#i still have no idea where this thing is going outside of a few vague scenes in my mind

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Part Seven

“Hey Buddy, you got dressed.”

“Dessed,” Eddie plucks at the sleeve of the pullover, then rubs his arms, copying what Steve did to show what he meant by cold, Eddie even does a fair approximation of Steve's, ‘brrrrrr,’ sound. “Good?

Steve can see from here that the inside of his closet is a disaster; Eddie must have pulled things down while he was hunting for something to wear. Steve figures he can fix it later.

“Yeah, really good. Come on, lets make a grocery list.”

“Go-ser-eee list?”

“Yeah, all the things you like.”

Eddie follows Steve carefully down the stairs, and Steve is pretty sure he can say good bye to the sweater the second Eddie goes outside; at the very least the bottom part will be dragged along the floor everywhere Eddie goes.

Eddie pulls himself onto a seat at the breakfast nook while Steve gets a pad and a pen, “right. What would you like?”

Eddie leans forward so he can see better as Steve writes – Steve’s already listing stuff like milk and bread and coffee and cereal. “Celery. Cucumber. Peas. Apple. Grape. Pear. Many pear,” he’s watching closely, waiting while Steve writes out each word after Eddie says them.

Eddie leans an arm over the table, pointing at where Steve has just written, ‘pear’, “many,” he insists, “many pear.”

Steve crosses out ‘pear’ and writes ‘many pear’ instead, “that okay?” Steve’s sure Eddie can't read what hes writing, but he does understand the concept of ‘many pear’ being two words and not one, which means he’s grasping this whole thing really, really fast.

“Paper,” Eddie adds.

“Okay, got it. More paper.”

“Okay. Stee go out?”

“Yeah, I need to go to work, and I’ll bring the groceries home with me.”

“Go-ser-ee in work?”

“No...I have to go to work to earn money to buy groceries,” Eddie stares at Steve blankly, “wait here.” Steve comes back with his wallet, and fishes out a few dollar bills and puts them on the table, “So I go to work, and earn money,” Steve slides the dollars closer.

Eddie touches the corner of one of the notes, “one.”

“That’s right Buddy, that’s the number one. This is a one dollar bill.”

“One dollar bill.” Eddie repeats dutifully.

“So I take this,” Steve points to the bill, “to the store, and I can get an apple.”

Eddie frowns at the money, “one dollar bill in work Stee...one dollar bill in store...Stee apple?”

“Yeah, yeah buddy.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie in work? Eddidie one dollar bill pear.”

Steve snorts a laugh at the thought of Eddie in a Family Video vest, probably shouting, ‘no,’ and, ‘bad,’ at customers who put the tapes back wrong. Steve’s pretty sure the general public could break even Eddie’s spirit.

“No buddy, you have to stay here, where it’s safe.”

“Safe,” Eddie points in the vague direction of down the hall; Steve understands what he means, Steve does the same thing to illustrate to Eddie that he’s going out, “not safe?”

“That’s right.”

“Stee not safe?” Eddie cocks his head, frowning spectacularly.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs to himself. “Okay. Okay Buddy, out,” Steve points, “safe for me, not safe for you.”

“Why?”

And oh Steve is really starting to loath the ‘why?’

“Because...you’re different buddy,” Steve sticks a leg out and points to it, then points to Eddie’s tail where the end is curled on the floor.

Eddie frowns, but doesn’t push it any further.

Eddie’s inside when Steve gets home, and Steve’s kind of glad, it’s definitely chillier now than it was a couple of weeks ago. Eddie might have his tent, but Steve has no idea what kind of temperatures are tolerable for Eddie; he must be pretty fucking sturdy to live in the Upside Down, but still. Steve has no clue if Eddie’s just mimicking him, because Steve has told Eddie it’s cold. He doesn’t even know if Eddie feels temperature like a human. Still, he probably wouldn't be voluntarily wearing the sweater if it was making him too warm.

Eddie’s laid out on the lounge floor, his book open, surrounded by colored pencils. It looks like he’s making an attempt at drawing some sort of tree, surrounded by grass and sky. It’s not terrible; Steve can even tell pretty much what it’s supposed to be, at least.

Steve's got to tell Dustin that Eddie can definitely see color just fine.

“Hey Buddy, you want to help put your things away?”

“Eddidie help,” Eddie follows Steve into the kitchen, “idge door. Idge. Cold in idge. Pear in. Grape in. Celery in.” Eddie chatters the whole time he unpacks the paper grocery bag, narrating everything he’s doing. He eats a pear when he’s done.

“I got you more notebooks, too.”

“Paper?”

“Yeah Buddy, as much as you want.”

Steve dumps a can of spaghetti into a pot on the stove, then turns as he hears a loud scraping noise; Eddie pushing a chair across the kitchen.

“Hang on,” Steve gets it for him, moving it to the side of the stove. Eddie climbs up, sitting on his tail to make himself tall enough to watch Steve making toast and grating cheese.

“You want to try?” Steve offers the wooden spoon to Eddie.

Eddie frowns at it, “warm?”

“Many warm. Hot. Here,” Steve blows on the spoon for a moment.

Eddie leans forward and licks it. Eddie pulls an assessing face, and then finally volunteers, “good bad.”

“Yeah. I get you buddy.”

Eddie turns on the TV when they go into the lounge, Steve sits on the couch to eat, “I think the kids are coming over tomorrow. They’re coming over to watch movies.” Eddie tilts his head, “TV. The kids are coming to watch TV.”

“Max. El. Dust bin. Lu-cas. Mike. Will.”

“You got it buddy, the kids.”

“Kids. Mongrels.”

Steve laughs so hard his toast nearly slides off his plate.

Mike shoves a bag in Steve’s hands as he passes him in the doorway, “Nancy told me to bring this over for Eddie. It’s all Holly’s old stuff.”

Steve looks inside the bag and finds a couple of kids coloring books; neither of them used at all. A handwriting book, the kind where you trace the letters and numbers before doing it yourself. A very basic math book, probably for really little kids, but on the first page is a picture of four plus four, represented with two groups of four apples. Steve’s confident Eddie will like that. There’s a couple of other things, and Steve’s sure it’ll all be useful. It’s actually a great idea. One of the books has pictures of clocks, and the digital time; Steve really should teach Eddie to tell the time. Maybe he could get him a little battery clock for his tent.

“Thanks Mike.”

“Yeah whatever,” Mike grumbles, already making popcorn and generally just helping himself to Steve’s shit.

Steve sits in the middle of the couch, El to one side of him, deliberately keeping an empty space on the other. All the other kids are sprawled out on the floor, eating red vines and dipping into bowls of popcorn. Eddie’s watching from the kitchen doorway; he’s clearly still uncertain about the kids.

They’re all lying quiet though, engrossed in the film. It’s probably half way through when Eddie finally risks it; Steve pats the couch cushion to encourage Eddie up next to him. Eddie does.

Usually he sits like a person, the end of his tail laid on the floor like feet would be, but tonight he pulls it up and curls it under him, all protected.

El leans forward, whispering over Steve, “hi Eddie.”

Eddie nods, volunteers back an uncertain, “hi El,” and then promptly hides his face in Steve’s shoulder.

As Steve suspected, the front six inches of the yellow pull over are worn and filthy, marred with grass stains.

Steve leaves him there for a little while, and waits until curiosity gets the better of Eddie. Steve offers him some popcorn; it’s buttered and salty, and Steve’s a solid ninety percent sure Eddie won’t like it. He’s right. He watches Eddie chew with his mouth open, a look of absolute disgust on his face, for a solid thirty seconds before Eddie finally swallows.

Steve leaves El with the popcorn and goes and gets them a beer to share, it’s the least he can do.

Eddie’s interest in the film seems to waver, depending on what grabs his attention the most. He seems to be watching the kids for...well. Eddie probably thinks of them as loud and erratic; it wouldn’t surprise Steve if Eddie had interpreted them as danger. Even if Eddie’s getting braver, that feeling clearly hasn’t gone all the way away just yet.

Steve feels him twitch, on high alert, every time one of the kids shifts.

Steve offers him a red vine; Eddie sniffs it but crinkles his nose up in disgust.

They decide to put on another movie; when all the kids get up to forage and grab drinks and go for toilet breaks, Steve thinks for a moment that Eddie might make a break for it. He sinks down further into the couch cushions instead; pressing close to Steve.

He doesn’t leave though, and the kids, mercifully, practically ignore Eddie. Lucas says ‘hi’, and Eddie answers, which Steve takes as a massive win.

One of the kids drops something in the sink; it clatters loudly, Eddie sitting up straight, whole body on high alert and turned towards the doorway, one arm flung back protectively over Steve's chest.

“It’s alright buddy, don’t worry. It’s just the kids. They’re noisy sometimes,” Eddie does lower himself again at that, and when he finally looks at Steve, Steve offers his hand. Eddie takes it. The webbing stops their fingers linking together all the way, but the contact has the desired effect and seems to reassure Eddie that there’s no danger, and he’s more relaxed by the time all the kids come back in.

They start the next movie, Eddie nestled right up against Steve, their joined hands resting on his thigh.

Part Nine

[imgae-insertshockedgasps-16]

okay i've seen a few Just Some Guy!danny aus and they've consumed my brain so here you go, it's under the cut, you're welcome and thank you (ps it also combines part of a prompty type thing i saw the other day, props if you know it)

Danny was not entirely sure how he got here.

He was just walking along, bopping to some great interdimensional tunes, eating his tuna fish sandwich - with ectoplasm and pickles, of course - when KABLOW there's this big ole tightie-whities-on-the-outside wearing guy.

Now, Danny's not great at keeping up with the times, but he's pretty sure this is that Superman dude.

Said SuperDude was staring at his headphones and making vague "hey take them out pls so can converse" gestures, so naturally Danny pops the Interdimensional Walkman out of his chest to pause his wicked music, and then puts the whole kit and kaboodle back behind his rib cage.

"What's up? Did you need help or something? I mean, I'm pretty solidly retired but I guess if it's super important I can-"

SuperGuy abruptly stopped staring and started speaking, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

Ohhhhh, Danny totally gets it now.

"Oh, dude, I gotchu. You want me to hook you up, right? Don't even worry about it, I know a guy who'll give you one a these babies for free! You're Kryptonian, right? Yeah, I totally get it, you wanna listen to some music from your home planet, no problemo my newly-minted friend, give me, like, ten seconds-"

And so Danny tore open a neat little portal and stuck his head through it, asking Technus to pretty please give him another Interdimensional Walkman, no he didn't even break this one-! He ran into a Kryptonian who heard him rockin out and wanted to know where he got the beats, and he'd told them that he could hook them up! C'mon Technus, you can't let them down! They're all lonely! They want to learn about their culture!

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

Clark has no idea what's happening.

He had been searching for this ear-splitting, headache-inducing noise, and had come across a guy dancing down the sidewalk.

Not unusual, right?

Except that the terrible noise was coming from this man's - kid's?? He can't quite tell how old he is - headphones!

Of course, he didn't want to be rude, so he politely gestured for the man to remove the headphones. The man then proceeded to reach into his chest and pull out some kind of - Walkman?? Do people still use Walkmans?

Clark was naturally concerned, so he activated a spot of x-ray vision, just to see what's going on in there, and was promptly horrified.

This man was using his chest cavity as a storage compartment!

Two wallets, a key ring, a lunch box, some sort of odd thermos, bits and bobs of random parts and tools were all tangled around - and occasionally in - this guy's organs!

Suddenly, Clark realized that he'd been staring for a while, and the man was now talking. Something about coming out of retirement to help, oh dear, Ma would knock him around the head if he kept being so rude, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

And now he was speaking rapidly, something about music from Krypton? Clark's pretty sure that not a whole lot survived the explosion, and he'd be pretty surprised if this guy just happened to have-

A vaguely Lazarus colored portal??

What in the world-

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

"Thanks Technus! You're the best! I owe you one non evil scheme related favour!"

Danny zips up the portal and turns around, fiddling with the tapes and Walkman in his hands as he goes.

"Here you go! I wasn't entirely sure what genre you'd want, I don't really listen to a whole lot of Kryptonian stuff to be honest, it's usually too heavy on the vocal for me- not that vocals aren't great! But I want a whole band experience, yaknow? I'm not really looking for individual singers. Anyway, I just had him go for a couple songs of each major genre, but if you want something different you can totally-"

"Wait, hold on, you're telling me that there's Kryptonian music on those tapes? Playable by that Walkman?"

"Uh, well, yeah. Isn't that why you tracked me down? And, technically, I mean, they're ectoplasmic tapes and an Interdimensional Walkman, so. Hey, did you know that kryptonite is actually super-condensed ectoplasm? And since it's filled with the anguish and suffering and fear and whatnot of your entire home planet dying, it only negatively affects your species! Pretty cool right? Oh, shit, was that insensitive, I really didn't mean to be, I just thought that maybe you'd want to- ACK!"

Danny was not expecting SuperMuscles to get so close. He thrust out the IW and tapes and dropped them into SuperFellow's hands, "Listen, I gotta run. I'm supposed to be at a o-chem study group right now and they're totally gonna be pissed. Hit me up if you want a different tape."

And the proceeded to run in the opposite direction, duck into an alley and turn invisible, and fly over to the cafe his study group was in.

"Listen, I know I'm late but you'll never believe why-"

[1427]

something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove. 

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar. 

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost. 

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be? 

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room. 

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief. 

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.” 

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh. 

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.” 

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?” 

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room. 

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway. 

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there. 

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else. 

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet. 

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl. 

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence. 

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything. 

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end. 

Why won’t he look? 

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing. 

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward. 

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.” 

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.” 

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally. 

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know. 

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more. 

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady. 

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him. 

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing. 

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.  

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground. 

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?” 

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all. 

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do. 

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile. 

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going. 

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot. 

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly. 

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them. 

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more. 

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him. 

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans. 

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened. 

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him. 

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water. 

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

 You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person. 

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room. 

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?” 

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’. 

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth. 

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant. 

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body. 

He needed more. He needed to watch you again. 

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that. 

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him. 

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you. 

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained. 

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly. 

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own. 

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good. 

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on. 

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t. 

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you. 

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

[justficsiguess]

thinking about... yandere!batfam...

Imagine you're living your normal life and *boom*, one day suddenly a portal opens right in front of you, you fall through it, it closes right behind you. You can only make out a few vague shapes making their way towards you before you pass out.

When you wake up you're... in a bed. Surrounded by a bunch of people who introduce themselves as the Wayne family. You're in Gotham. There was some kind of portal accident with a villain and you fell here from a different dimension and you're stuck until they can figure out how to fix the portal machine, because it was broken during the fight.

Villain? Portals? Gotham? And what was this family doing there during a fight?? They explain that they're vigilantes, Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, etc etc. They decided to tell you this because you'll have to work with them to figure out your home dimension and they didn't trust anyone else to take you in, plus this is just more efficient [and more comfortable than living in the batcave]. I haven't decided yet if you're from a dimension where they exist in comics or don't exist at all, but either way, you're really confused bc this is just not something that happens in your universe.

Anyways. You live with them now, get closer to all of them, work with them sometimes (even though you can't do much, mostly you just watch them work but they insist it's important you're there), decorate your temporary room in the manor a bit, learn some stuff about this dimension (some people have superpowers?? cool!!). You can't go outside though, they say that would be dangerous, as you're not from this dimension and not supposed to be here at all. You want to go back home, but the repairing of the portal machine seems to be very complicated, everyone keeps telling you they just can't figure it out...

One day, during a rare (very rare) moment alone, you decide to look around the manor. You still haven't seen everything in here, it's so big! After some exploration, you stumble across an interesting room that's kind of hidden away. It looks almost exactly like your new room in the manor, but dusty, with some items you remember the Batfamily proudly showing you as you were decorating your room, and becoming unreasonably disappointed when you didn't like them. But the most concerning thing is that there are pictures of you. Not new ones they took since you've been here, but older ones, where you're younger. But, no, it doesn't seem like they're pictures of you exactly, there are photos of a pre-teen you on Bruce's shoulders, that can't be you, you just met them! There are also pictures of a vigilante you've never seen before, which you figure must be this other-you as well. What happened to them? And why would everyone hide this from you?

Turns out you didn't come here from an accident with a villain at all. The Batfamily lost the other version of you somehow and decided they wanted you back. But not a strong, smart vigilante like the version of you from this universe. No, they could get hurt again, or figure out what's going on sooner and escape. They chose you, hoping they could slowly get you accustomed to the idea of staying and then one day lie to you and say they can't fix the portal machine, they can't send you back. It still hurts them to know you're not exactly like the you they lost, you were raised in a completely different way, of course you're not the same, but they'd never let you go, either. They love you.

They were hoping you wouldn't find everything out so soon... but, well, they can fight over whose fault it is that you were able to find this room later, first they need to find a way to calm you down and stop you from leaving them.

If you find yourself drugged and/or tied to your bed, don't be mad at them! You gave them no time to explain before you started panicking and trying to get away, they couldn't just let that happen!

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ NAUGHTY GIRL. ❞

— minors dni, gojo x afab! reader, they’re both sassy, poly! stsgverse, he plays w/ your tits, sequel to “YOU LITTLE THIEF!”

A cool breeze awaits as you burst into mostly darkness. There’s a few headlights in the parking lot, other patrons coming or going. Glancing back, you catch sight of Gojo nearing the shoe rack. You curse his longer legs, and the color of Geto’s car which blends into the pitch blackness outside. You decide to run in the vague direction of where he parked, hoping it yields results that aren’t Gojo immediately catching up to you. Hopefully people don’t find you too suspicious, the way you’re ducking and weaving through cars to stay out of sight. Gojo’s nowhere to be found whenever you peep back to spot him. It raises the hairs on your arms, makes things a lot more suspenseful as if you’re trying to avoid some kind of knife-wielding murderer in a horror movie.

You finally spot Geto’s car, close to the back of the lot, and dive behind it so you’re next to the driver’s side door. Catching your breath takes a few seconds — you’re lucky his alarm isn’t activated to give you away. Approaching footsteps raise your heart rate, but it’s just some gaggle of teenagers walking by. Or a young a couple on their way inside. Not yet a white-haired man looking to do you harm (take his phone back).

Quietly, or as quietly as you can on gravel, you lift yourself up to peek through Geto’s dark, tinted windows. Despite being akin to a lighthouse tower, Gojo is nowhere to be spotted. It dawns on you that he might also be using cars as refuge. Perhaps if you looked underneath, you’d be able to spot him? Alright, let’s see, you think, lowering and regretting the idea as soon as your knees meet harsh rock. You look back, forth, back again. Nothing. What in the hell…?, you rise back to your feet, not noticing the looming, dark shadow approaching with abnormally quiet steps. Where the fuck did he go?

“Gotcha!” And Gojo muffles your terrified shriek with a large hand, other hand on your waist to pin you to the black car. “Aww, were you lookin’ for me down there, gorgeous?”

Brows drawn together, you inspect the place behind him, too concerned with how in the world he got behind you. He lets you strip his hand from your face to question him. “Where did you come from?”

Gojo grins, tilts his head a little to the side. “Can’t go around revealing my secrets now, can I?”

He takes delight in your unamused look, and your scoff. “What are you, a magician?”

“Nope, but you are. So make my phone appear, right now.”

“Or what? Are you gonna pat me down, Mr. TSA?”

Regret, immediately, as he rolls his eyes in thought. “Actually. Yeah, I am!”

You watch as Gojo pats your arms, waist, legs, one bold pat on your behind, before patting at your shoes. “You think your phone could fit in there?”

He looks up, and the sight of Gojo on his knees before you kind of makes you feel powerful. Like a deity. “I have to be thorough.” He pats you a little harder on the way back up, avoiding your chest, and pouts when he still finds nothing. “The hell? Where is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Brat, he thinks. Gojo’s hands squeeze over your waist, pressing you against the car again. He leans over you until your foreheads are almost touching. “Give it here. Crook.”

That only prompts your giggle in response, e/c eyes never leaving the blues of his. Your hands fiddle with the edge of Gojo’s shirt, and he opens his mouth for another word before there’s a vibration from your chest.

Both pairs of eyes flicker to the faint glow beneath your shirt, and the bravado plummets from your face. “O-oh…”

He looks back up to grin at you. “Found it. I’ll be taking it back now.”

Before you can complain, Gojo slips a hand beneath your top, working his way up until it rests atop your bra, where he finds his phone half-tucked inside. Your breath stutters when his fingers slip underneath, smoothing over your nipple as he pinches the phone and tugs it downward. His other hand glides upwards to take it, and Gojo slips the phone in his pocket, but leaves one hand resting against your bare breast.

“Naughty girl.,” he scolds, thumbing over the stiffening bud. “Why was it in there huh? Did you plan this out?”

You fumble for a response. “I–, no–“

“Because,” a roll of your nipple has you arching into Gojo, where he wraps an arm around your waist. “You could’ve just asked, if you wanted me touch you. Use your words next time, baby.”

His lips make a home on your skin, placing gentle kisses along your neck, jawline, cheeks. It drives a series of mewls and whimpers from you, causes your thighs to clench together around his leg. “G–et off m-me, I’m going back ins-side.”

“Tryna run away again?,” Gojo mocks you, nipping at the sensitive part of your neck. “Cute. Sure, we can go back inside.” He gives a hard suck on the skin, sure to leave a mark, before pulling away to catch your hazy eyes. “You gonna behave for me?”

Even though Gojo can see right through you, needily panting and pushing your chest further into his palm, you still choose to be a little difficult. “Behave? Like some puppy—“

You yelp, him having tugged at your nipple, pinching it between his fingers. “Yep, like my good girl. Play nice, no more stealing or it’s wraps, got it?”

There’s an underlying threat in his statement, one that prods at your curiosity. But you decide to play along for now. “Fine.”

He gives your face another kiss, close to your lips. “Don’t like the way you said it. Again, with less attitude.”

“I didn’t have an attitude.”

“Well, you definitely have one now, so do it again.”

You roll your eyes, catching his expectant stare. His hand twitches at the bat of your lashes, the jut of your lip, eyes widening in an adorable pout. “I’ll be such a good girl for you, Satoru.” The way you purr his name is like gold in his ears. Gojo can feel a throbbing within his pants, but his hands retreat for now to leave you be. You’ll be sure to act up again, and he’s gonna let you have it when you do.

tagz: @staryukis @anthoosies

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'Till you Make it | Part 14

“Eye Spy… with my little eye… something beginning wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith T”

“Is it tree?”

“God, how do you keep doing that?”

“That’s been your fifth tree in six rounds, Eddie.”

“There’s loads of trees!!”

Steve was driving, he’d taken the driver’s seat of the rental car, Eddie calling shotgun putting his parents in the back seat, which neither really minded as they still had a few things to work out that they’d put on the back burner to allow Steve and Eddie to take those middle seats on the plane.

“Okay my turn, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… T.”

“Is it tree?”

Steve sniggered but shook his head no. “No it’s not tree.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“It’s black.”

“T and black… can I have another hint?”

“You only get two hints are you sure you wanna use it now?” It was actually quite cute how Eddie hesitated, hand lifting to his chin, fingernails caught on his bottom teeth. “Maybe try another guess?”

“T and black…” Eddie looked down, and around himself, there was nothing outside that fit the bill, so it had to be inside the car. “T… and black… it’s definitely black, and begins with T… Teeelevision?”

“Do you see a television?”

“No.”

“No, Eddie, it’s not a television” he clicked his fingers in disappointment, as if it were actually a plausible guess.

“Tuuuuuaardvark.”

“What the hell is a tuaardvark?”

“An aardvark with a Tu at the beginning.” Steve really was trying to focus on the road, but Eddie was so effortlessly funny that it was impossible not to laugh. “Okay gimmie the hint, and make it a juicy one. An I do mean juicy, it needs to rival your—”

“Eddie!”

“Your juicy personality, get thy glorious head and its voluminous hair out of the gutter, baby.” He got a quiet giggle out of Lynda with that one, both parents trying not to get involved. They had things to do, even a getaway had work involved.

“For that alone I’m only going to tell you that there’s a few of them.” But he was going to smile about it, because he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, it was just… to hard to not smile around Eddie. His enjoyment was as infectious as his happiness.

“Awh shit, I always knew I’d be my own undoing. Go on then, put me out of my misery.”

“You sure you don’t want one more guess?”

“Do you think that’d help?”

“I think if you really look you could get it.”

“God you have such confidence in me, where was this support when I was trying to graduate? Okay.” Eddie pulled his long legs up and awkwardly crossed them in his seat, eyes skimming the surrounding area, then dipping down, brows furrowed in thought. A black few things beginning with T… a black few things, beginning with T… Teeee tee-tee-tee-tee-teeeee…teeeeshirt?”

“No, it’s not T-shirt.”

“Shit. Okay, not T-shirt” he reached up his hand and scratched his cheekbone, and out of the corner of his eye— he gasped sharply and yelled, “tattoo!!”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the car, he’s GOT IT!” There was a polite round of applause from the back seat that Eddie turned back to bow to, hands clasped together in victory. “Ooh, we’re almost there, one more round I think, and don’t pick a tree.”

“Okay! Okay lemme think, let me think, leeet me…OOH, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with M.”

“It’s mole isn’t it?”

“GodDAMMIT!”

Eddie had no idea what to expect when they started their journey, he had no idea what their end result would look like, he had a vague idea that it’d probably be extravagant, and that maybe he wouldn’t like the look of it purely going off of the Harrington’s house back in Hawkins, that place looked cold.

It looked empty.

What sat nestled at the end of a long woodland driveway, was nothing like the Harrington House.

Sure, it was large, could probably fit a good few families in there with room to spare, but it was styled like a log-cabin, just, bigger. It was all wood undoubtedly farmed from the surrounding areas, natural stone work making up the foundation and the chimney probably mined from the mountains around them, and glass windows.

It looked… huge but still so cosy.

Like the inside would probably smell a little like Christmas and warm every inch of you just by standing in it.

“Okay,” Eddie turned around in his seat to look into the back, and really did try and school his tone into something as respectful as he possibly could manage “not to disrespect your house in Hawkins but why would you live there in that if you have this out here?” Hawkins was a shithole in Eddie’s opinion, it was full of backwards thinking angry church types with vendettas against fun and honestly nothing happened there.

The most exciting thing to happen in Hawkins in the history of ever, was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s hair because it looked suspiciously like a nest.

They had no creepy ghost stories, no weird happenings, no strange people unless you count himself and maybe a few of the hellfire kids, maybe his bandmates, but it was boring. He wanted out. The only thing keeping him there was… well… his Uncle.

“It’s not ours” John answered as the car pulled to a stop outside of the slowly opening garage, the eldest Harrington putting his things back into his bag and unclipping the seatbelt. “It’s Steven’s.” And that wide-eyed stare was immediately switched from the elder Harrington’s to the youngest, the sheepishly smiling Steve.

“It belonged to my grandparents, or well… my grandpa. He left it to me in the will, but we’ve been coming here to spend time with them for years this is just… the second year now without either of them here.” They had a maintenance guy, or multiple guys on retainer who’d go in once every two weeks to keep the place clean, but other than that it remained empty. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, expression softening, Steve shook his head though, “sorry, that just set a weird mood, let’s just… get inside and get settled, yeah? I’ll even let you pick our room.”

“Room as in… one room? For the both of us? That’s—that’s uhm” he looked back at the parents “that’s okay with you guys?”

“Sure, again it’s not our house.” And even if it was, both John and Lynda figured Steve would wind up in Eddie’s room anyway “we’d prefer it though if you picked one on the other side of the house to ours.” John opened the car door, catching Eddie’s attention again “we’ve been burned by those old wooden walls before.” And then he was out of the car, followed by Lynda who he helped climb out, leaving both men in the car alone while they made their way to the house.

Steve pulled forwards into the vacant garage, the door to shut behind them, and a light automatically switched on, replacing the darkness of the garage with a warm white light.

“They’re not the only ones who’ve been burned, trust me.” Steve shook his head with an amused smile as he cut the engine. “Is the one room okay, Eddie? It’s not like… crossing any lines with you, is it?” His parents weren’t there, they couldnt hear them, there was no reason to pretend, even if he did want to try and make it as realistic as possible as per Robin’s idea, he had to keep checking in with Eddie to make sure he was okay.

“No! No, no it’s okay… I’ve never… I haven’t really… shared a room with anyone before” only child, and Wayne had given him the only room in the trailer “is it like… a two bed situation or—”

“One bed, Eddie… one room, one bed, there’s only one room in that house with multiple beds in it and it’s full of bunk beds from when I was twelve an all the cousins used to visit around the same time… it might seem a bit weird if we pick that one.” He was going to be spending an entire week… sleeping in the same bed as Steve Harrington, in what was essentially a dream house nestled in the woods.

He was going to get used to it. He was going to get used to it all, and it was going to kill him to leave it all at the end of the week. It was going to destroy him to lose it all.

“Heh… maybe—maybe someday we could bring the kids up, they could stay in the bunk bed room” grin and bear it, maybe it’d all work out if he just… went with the flow. Wishful thinking usually went against the good ol Munson Doctrine, but… everything Steve had been doing since they first started their whacky plan had flown in the face of that stupid doctrine so… maybe deviating from it wouldn’t hurt as bad as it could if he just… went with it.

“I mean… we could force them to use the bunkbeds, an that could be pretty funny”

They probably wouldn’t be as psyched to stay in bunkbeds as they would have been back when they were all tiny, squishy middle schoolers, although it’d probably be easier to get their parents to agree to the trip now they were older.

“Payback for all the shit they’ve thrown at us over the years.”

“It’s like you’re in my brain.”

Part 16

[cherryfennec]

So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-

Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!

This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:

General headcanons;

This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:

Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.

The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.

Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;

While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.

In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.

Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.

There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.

In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.

Few bonus headcanons!

I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!

[fortheloveofpiggy]

TW this is a rant about proship and comship! Tags will have more in-depth trigger warnings

Edit: OMG PROSHIPPERS STOP MAKING THIS POST ABOUT DEFENDING IF SHIPPING CHILD X ADULT OR INCEST IS OKAY OR NOT THE POST IS ABOUT THE LABLE I DONT WANT TO ARGUE WITH YALL ABOUT THAT ANYMORE.

This is my one post where all people on all sides of the proship debate can interact. Including proshippers. If that makes you uncomfortable then don’t interact. I hate echo chambers and I want to hear all sides.

Also sorry for cross tagging just want the opinions from all sides

Actual post:

I hate the terms proship, neutral ship, and antiship. They’re all extremes and I hate them. From what I understand the meanings are

Proship: support all ships no matter what even if they’re comships

Neutral ship: doesn’t have an opinion at all

Antiship: is anti any comship which is outrageous

If y’all don’t know comship just means complex ship or they enjoy more morally grey or imperfect ships. This can include things like human X different intelligent species (like aliens, furries, monsters) which most rational people don’t think is bad. But this can also mean kid X adult, family x family, or victim X abuser

I actually don’t identify as pro, neu, or anti because I think some comships are good and healthy. I think morally grey ships are important in media when done correctly. Especially since a lot of relationships are rocky and not always healthy and it’s good to show that in media. My own ocs personally aren’t in a perfectly healthy relationship because of their own issues. But this should be done respectfully and with care. Abuse shouldn’t be romanticized but people can be romantic outside of the abuse going on just like in real life relationships

But in a pedophilic fan fiction or art or an incest fanfic or art there is no such thing as a loving part of it. The relationship in itself is abuse because a minor being with a child is abuse and family members being together is abuse. It’s not healthy for anyone involved to romanticize relationships like that and frankly can effect reality no matter how you spin it because it’s representing something as normal to kids.

Right now a lot of neutrals, antis, and probably a lot of pro shippers are agreeing but that’s where my point really starts

The term “proship” and “anti ship” are too vague. If you say you’re proship you sound like you defend media where children are harmed. I understand the meaning is being proshipping and minding your business but that’s still what you look like and frankly that’s what the term does. If you’re pro everything then that means you’re pro the harmful stuff too

And the term “antiship” suggest that you’re anti shipping in general or anti any complex ship which is also unhealthy for us all because morally grey topics need brought up. Antis also are very very commonly okay with harassment when it comes to proshippers

And neutral ship is basically just saying you don’t have a opinion at all which is harmful because you’re suggesting you’re okay with the harm done on both sides. And I understand some people who are neutral ship agree with me and don’t just not care but I feel like majority is the former not the latter (based on what I’ve seen)

Also disclaimer if you’re neutral because of mental health or because you have better things to deal with that’s valid but identifying as neutral ship does put you in it and i instead suggest staying out of it entirely

So idk maybe we should make a term for the middle. I had a few ideas maybe something like middleship or intentship (intentship meaning enjoying or allowing all ships as long as the intentions are good and are not to romanticize trauma or abuse)

Idk everyone can share their opinions but if I see another proshipper say fiction doesn’t effect reality I’m gonna scream and if I see another anti shipper call all morally grey ships bad as if they done killed their grandma I’ll go insane

[strayed-quokka]

lacking in subtlety || kim sunwoo

» summary: it was a bad idea to like your brother’s best friend. it was an even worse idea to let him into your room when your brother was one door down.   

» pairing: sunwoo x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors do not interact 

» genre: brother’s best friend, smut, porn without much plot but there’s backstory i guess

» warnings: dominant sunwoo (kinda?), he’s also a bit possessive, i guess submissive reader, oral (m and f receiving), creampie, his hand finds your throat but there’s no actual pressure, vague exhibitionism (?), sunwoo gets caught but he kinda asked for it, the beginning takes ages whoops, open ending cause i’m annoying, one use of good girl and some pet names

» words: 4,738

» a/n: i know i’ve done brother’s best friend before but i’m a hoe for that concept aight deal w it… also i have like… 20+ smuts for the boyz in my drafts i don’t know what’s going on anymore but i’m thinking either juyeon next because hands or a threesome with moonbae because it’s been sitting in my drafts and lord is it wild 

also i know i disappeared but life happens and also people were stealing my work so i wasn’t really in the mood to write anything for anyone but here we are i’m back cause i wanna indulge ✌️

You’d never been much of a risk taker. In fact, on paper, you probably looked quite boring, good grades, a nice set of friends, never misbehaving, all of it lined up to make you rather uninteresting. That’s why when the shift from seeing Juyeon’s best friend Sunwoo, as someone more than a simple acquaintance happened, you simply ignored it. 

He’d never find you interesting enough. 

Though you were friends in a way too. Your brother was comfortable enough with Sunwoo never getting too close to you in that regard, and so the two of you would often interact even if he wasn’t there.

But the conversations were usually rather generic. Exchanges of how your days were, maybe the occasional comment about an outfit the other wore, but never anything beyond that. You still remembered coming downstairs in an oversized hoodie one day and Sunwoo jumping on the question to ask where you got it. He wore the same one in a different colour a few days later, and you swore he knew how flustered it made you.

You knew him, but you didn’t know him in a way that you knew friends. Nevertheless, you were always comfortable with him, even comfortable enough that during movie nights, if you happened to be around, lying next to him or even against him was deemed completely normal. 

You’d done it since you were little, and so even once it shifted from being simply platonic to something that made your heart race as you got older, Juyeon never once questioned it. He never felt the need to and neither did Sunwoo. You weren’t sure if he was simply oblivious or intentionally ignoring the way you felt, but you were relieved either way.

Juyeon never noticed that your first semester back from university, Sunwoo started to get more physical towards you. His arm being wrapped around you wasn’t new, but where he let his hand rest was. You still remembered the first time it fell on your hips, but it stayed unmoving and almost felt like an unintentional accident. 

Though with Sunwoo, nothing was unintentional. He thought you were beautiful and incredibly hard to resist, but he tried. He tried by simply leaving little hints, hints that could mean nothing or everything at the same time, and hints that Juyeon wouldn’t notice or brush off because Sunwoo wouldn’t cross that line. He’d never be so stupid. 

Sunwoo didn’t want to cross the line, but there was only so much self control he had. Especially when you never, not once, rejected anything that he did. 

You’d just finished your first year at university, enjoying the start of your summer break, when things shifted again. Trying to get used to Sunwoo drawing patterns on your hip or nuzzling up to you could never have prepared you.

The weather was terrible, a summer storm looming outside with the sound of rain crashing against the window as a random horror movie played that you lost interest in within the first twenty minutes, and you could tell Sunwoo didn’t care for it much either. Horror movies were Changmin’s thing, and maybe you should’ve been nice and invited your best friend along for the evening. 

You were leaning against Sunwoo, his arm around you and fingers resting on your hip with a blanket draped over your bare legs and a part of your waist.

Juyeon was on the opposite side, a bowl of near empty popcorn on his lap with a blanket around his own figure. 

Sunwoo shifted, the blanket slipping off your body though he caught it and covered you again, and you would’ve likely barely reacted if it weren’t for his fingers moving over your bare thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, and you tried to hide it with a cough though Sunwoo knew better. 

Though just because he knew better, didn’t mean he was about to risk it entirely. 

He’s slow, as if trying to calculate all the risks in the scenario he’s in, including both your potential rejection and Juyeon seeing what he’s up to, so it’s incredibly delicate as his fingers move under the thin blanket and to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it up above your hips. 

Your eyes widen, looking down though the skin he’s exposed lies very much hidden over the thin fabric that’s keeping you warm. You feel like you’re burning and can’t breathe, trying to regulate it without raising any suspicion. 

Sunwoo doesn’t feel your rejection, though he takes the time to whisper as quietly as he possibly can, “say stop and I will.”

You look over to Juyeon, but he hasn’t heard. It’s both a relief and a thrill, and you only nod to Sunwoo, tilting your head slightly upwards and to the side, eyes rested on his plump lips that had just hovered by your ear.

His fingers twist around the thin lace laying over your hip bone before he runs his hand down your thigh. He’s meticulous and painfully slow, but the result is that if you didn’t know any better, even you wouldn’t suspect much of anything. And the thrill of it all leaves you embarrassingly wet. 

You’re impatient too, and maybe it’s a mistake, but you push his hand just enough to rest in between your thighs. Sunwoo isn’t stupid either, he knows exactly what you want and exactly what you’re craving, and he’s more than willing to give it to you now that you’ve cleared up any potential misunderstanding of your motives. 

That’s the problem. Sunwoo has always been more than willing to do anything you ask, even when he shouldn’t. Whilst Juyeon had never explicitly stated that you were off limits, he knew that you were. He could have anyone he wanted. Anyone but you. 

And you’re exactly what he wanted. 

He’s teasing you, mostly because he doesn’t have a choice if he wants to remain discreet, but also because he likes it. He likes seeing you react, how you bite your lip and try to push your legs apart just enough for him to have his fingers between without the movement being too obvious. Sunwoo pushes into you as a response, and you can feel his cock against your ass. 

This was bad. You were both stuck here, and you were feeling incredibly hot and desperately trying to be quiet. 

“Are you okay?” he says it loudly, and you can’t believe the nerve he has to ask you right in front of Juyeon. Your brother looks over at you, concern on his face as Sunwoo’s fingers stop right back on your hip. 

“What’s wrong?” there’s genuine concern there, and now you wonder what you look like. 

“She feels warm. Fever?” 

You want to hit him, but the only way you retaliate is to shift around with the way you’re lying, purposely pushing against him. You hear the angry hiss leave his throat, but it’s so quiet, similar to a low growl, so you don’t think Juyeon hears it, or if he does, he assumes it’s because your shuffling around must’ve kicked his friend. 

“Do you wanna sleep? We can watch this another time,” you nod at your brother, for as much as you very much enjoy the lines you’re crossing, the gamble doesn’t seem worth it with him right here. That, and in some way, you respect your brother just a little too much. 

“I’m gonna have a cold shower,” you twist your body up, ensuring the blanket is still on Sunwoo as he lets you go and repositions on his side, “night Juyeon. Sunwoo.”

You hug your brother goodnight, retaliating by hitting Sunwoo’s ass over the blanket, making him yelp and glare your way as you disappear into the bathroom. 

Fucking hell, did that just happen?

You can’t believe it. The immediate guilt sinks in for what you’ve done. It’s obvious to you, just how deep your crush and sexual attraction for Sunwoo has gotten, but a part of you wishes you could still suppress it. 

The water is ice cold when it hits your skin and you let out a squeal, eventually rinsing yourself off and washing your hair, attempting to snap out of the constant daze and addiction that is Kim Sunwoo. But the more you let him be in your mind, the more he refused to leave, and the worse your thoughts got. 

Maybe you just needed to get laid. It had been a while since your ex (who you conveniently enough, don’t think Sunwoo liked), and now you were in a state of such frustration that you were taking it out onto the only man available in the house. 

Though desire was a funny thing. 

It just wouldn’t go away. 

You lay awake for hours, staring up at your ceiling with only one person on your mind. There’s no doubt you’re losing it, unable to sleep for every time you close your eyes, it’s the same thought and wish for a dream over and over again. 

You resort to the only form of advice you can run to. Changmin.

“It’s two in the fucking morning, please,” he groans, his voice rough and tired, and it really doesn’t help your sexual overdriven hormones. It’s not like you were attracted to your best friend, but his rough voice combined with everything else sent you into a near meltdown. Maybe you should just ask him to sleep with you. 

“I want to fuck Sunwoo,” it’s quiet. You’re not sure if Changmin has to think about what you said first before he reacts, or if he just has no idea how to react, but eventually you hear him shuffle around and speak. 

“I ehrm… I’m not sure what you want me to say to that,” he pauses again, clearing his throat, “does Juyeon know?”

“What the hell do you think?” 

“Yikes, you really do need to get laid,” you nearly scream before remembering that any loud noise is going to garner unwanted attention from the two men that are either just downstairs or down the hall from you, so you suppress your agony instead, “why Sunwoo, though?”

“Have you not seen him?”

“I mean… not recently,” you sigh, rolling onto your side to look out the window. The rain seems endless, so you can’t exactly expect Changmin to get up and walk here to keep you company. 

“You’re staying up with me.”

“I’m tired,” he groans, enough for you to briefly feel bad. Though one of your biggest flaws is your stubbornness and your best friend knows that. 

“If I have someone else give you company, will you let me sleep?”

“Who’s crazy enough to come out at-”

There’s an abrupt cut on the other line, and you realise Changmin’s hung up. He either had a death wish or a plan, maybe both, and honestly, neither were comforting to think about.

A knock on the door breaks you out of it, half expecting your brother or maybe both of the boys to walk in, but it’s only Sunwoo. Immediately, you feel the need to wrap your blanket over your bare legs, “come in?”

He finally steps inside, leaving the door slightly ajar as he approaches you. He’s still in the same sweatpants and shirt from earlier, his hair more ruffled and messy from the constant laying down. He looks so inviting, his lips so full and his eyes so entrancing. It’s pure torture. 

“Changmin messaged me,” you pale, and now you’ve decided that he really does have a death wish, “want to explain?” 

He holds his phone out to you, a message from a number you can recite by heart sent just a minute ago. 

Y/N wants to sleep with you. Double meaning implied. Leave me out of it.

“What the fuck Chan-,”

“Is it true? Double meaning implied?” he smirks, and you realise quickly that to him it’s become a bit of a game to see how far he can push and taunt you until you either decide it’s enough or give in. You’re not sure why Sunwoo suddenly got so confident, though you suppose he always has been, the only difference now is that he knows how you’re thinking.  

“You don’t have to cover up. It’s quite warm,” his voice is low, but you doubt it’s out of worry for Juyeon hearing him. He’s right as well. It may be raining outside, but it’s incredibly hot in here, and you let him when he asks to remove the fabric over your bare legs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed. 

“Are you… still watching that movie?” 

“Finished it. And two others. Juyeon went to bed, it’s literally been hours,” you nod, wondering if he really is two doors down from you, fast asleep. Maybe he’s scrolling through his phone or doing god knows what else. 

“And you?”

“Well…” he starts, his fingers moving up along your left leg and causing shivers to run along your skin, “see, I have a bit of a problem.”

You may regret asking, but curiosity gets the better of you and you feel like you’re damned to hell. That, and the fact that maybe you really don’t care at all anymore, about any of the risks, “which is what?”

He grins, and it’s a smile that tells you he has something on his mind that thrills him and intoxicates you. Sunwoo comes closer, resting the palm of one hand on your inner thigh to push your legs apart, his lips right by your ear, “I really need to know how sweet you taste.”

Your resolve breaks. Maybe it was broken before, but it’s definitely shattered now. A whimper falls past your lips and now he’s right above you, watching with eyes like you’re his prey. 

“Am I allowed, sweetheart?” 

It happens fast, the way you grip his shirt and pull him down until your lips meet. His lips are slightly salted, likely from the popcorn, and he’s quickly pushing his tongue between your lips and gripping you harder by your thigh. He’s rough, a little forceful with it, but you like the dominance he holds over you. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how hard it’s been to resist you,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your neck, one of his hands slipping under your shirt to grope your breasts, playing with the sensitive flesh and hardened nipples, twisting slightly as you mewl underneath him. 

He’s overwhelming you. Sunwoo always has a way for your senses to go into overdrive, but with what he’s doing now, you can’t think.

“P-please,” you sound pathetic, but he’s nice enough to listen. At least you thought he was. 

“Let’s play a game,” oh no. He’s pulling you up, until you sit with your legs over the bed, planted firmly on the floor as your eyes find the still open door. 

You’d forgotten it was open. Sunwoo, however, clearly hadn’t, “what game?”

He’s down on his knees before you, his shirt discarded before you can even blink, and it takes a while to adjust to the naked chest and muscular build he’s always hidden from you. You tremble just at the thought, watching him closely as he repositions your legs onto his shoulder, pulling himself closer to you, “see how quiet you can be with that door open, sweetheart.”

You should be scared. The risk of getting caught has exponentially grown with the factor of an open door, but you feel his teeth lightly dig into the flesh by your upper thigh and you seem to forget everything else. It’s like he’s telling you to pay attention to only him, with each sharp sting of his teeth that leaves your skin red. 

Something about it you love. The dominance maybe, or maybe the possessive nature in which he litters your skin in angry red marks that you want to have, “look at me.”

It’s demanding, but you barely hear it first until his fingers dig into your thighs, pushing your legs just slightly more apart, and you sit up just a little to meet his eyes. He almost looks dangerous, near possessed in his hunger for you, and suddenly you’ve never felt more attractive in your life. 

He makes you feel wanted, and maybe that’s enough to explain why you’ve always been pushed towards him like a magnet. Even if you knew him at a surface level, he’s always been attentive to you in the little things. 

You nearly curse the world the minute Sunwoo delicately lays a kiss over your clothed clit, and it’s frustrating how that alone damn near makes you see stars. Such a simple touch of his lips should not feel like the end for you, and yet it does. You grip his hair before you can help yourself, pushing him between your legs as he chuckles, “are you that desperate?” 

“Shut up,” his nails dig into you harder, a scowl on his face as he nearly drags you down further, and you nearly yelp when your underwear is pushed to the side and his full lips meet your bare folds. 

“F-fuck,” he doesn’t respond to you. Either he’s off in his own world or he’s intentionally ignoring you as punishment for the way you run your mouth, but you’re in heaven, though it feels like the greatest sin that’ll have you sent straight to hell. 

You’d never have said you were a very vocal person in the bedroom. Even if someone made you feel good, your moans were usually quiet, more breathy and whispered than they were loud, but Sunwoo made you want to scream, and knowing you couldn’t made it so much worse.

Sunwoo seemed to know what he wanted, because without much warning, he’s letting his index finger graze your folds and it’s near embarrassing just how much of your juices coat his finger when he does, bringing it up to your lips, “are you gonna be good?”

You nod, desperate as you take his finger in your mouth, sucking on it like you would his cock, the taste slightly sweet while he’s back between your legs. You feel like your senses are going into overdrive, moaning as you take one of your hands and grip his hair, pushing his tongue deeper between your folds, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“S-Sunwoo, p-please,” you want to cum, and it feels like you’re so close, but it’s like he wants to remind you just how insufferable he is as he pushes back the second you feel like you may tip over the edge. 

The whine that releases in your throat is loud and pathetic, and you both share a wide look of shock and worry because what if Juyeon heard it. 

A minute passes, the only noise in the room being both of your heavy breathing, and when Sunwoo decides that Juyeon likely hasn’t woken up, his attention is back on you, “take off your shirt.”

You nearly don’t hear him, too busy staring at his swollen lips that glisten just slightly under the moonlight bleeding into the room, and he looks so beautiful that you feel like you’re falling for him right in that very moment, completely. 

“You need to stop staring like that. It’s not good for my heart,” his words make your head spin just as they put you into action, stripping off the very little you have on until you’re entirely naked. 

Sunwoo just stares first, and you wonder if maybe you should cover yourself but the minute you reach for the blanket, he’s stopping you, “don’t you dare.”

It’s rough, a demand that you listen to, especially when his fingers grip your chin to look up at him, “you look far beyond what I ever dreamed of.”

“You dreamed about me?” 

He grins, leaning down to kiss you as you let yourself go, back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you, “all the time.”

“Tell me,” you wanna hear it. Want to hear what you do to him, when this entire time you just thought that Sunwoo was the one making you crazy. 

“How good you must look with my cock inside you. You’d probably take it so well,” you’re nodding, whimpering slightly as he’s bruising your neck, and your hands are playing with the waistband of his sweatpants, asking without a word for him to take them off. 

It’s a relief to you that he listens, until you’re both entirely naked though you’re the one left salivating at his hardened cock. A little above average but thick, making you feel like you’re going dumb staring at him, “you wanna open that pretty mouth for me?”

You feel him grip your thigh and push you to the edge of the bed again, your face eye level with his waist, and it’s almost instinctual for you to part your lips, the tip of his cock laid flat on your tongue until you take him deeper. 

It becomes clear to you that you underestimated his girth, your jaw quickly sore but you don’t want to accept it either, relaxing your muscles as you swirl your tongue underneath the base of his shaft, moaning around his cock, eyes finding his to see that he’s already staring at you with such darkened lust that you feel like he desires only you, and it makes your head spin. 

“Just a little more, good girl,” his praise goes right to your core, making you shake and he notices, fingers tugging at your hair as you take him just a little more, your mouth so full that you have to release him and gasp for air, but Sunwoo doesn’t mind for a second that you need to pull away. 

Especially not when his patience is running thin with what he really wants. 

You watch him step away from you, making you nearly cry out and complain but he moves to sit up with his back against the headboard, tapping his thigh as if inviting you onto his lap, and you don’t need to be told twice to obey his wishes. He grabs your waist when you’re close enough, and in a way it’s gentle as he guides you, straddling him and making his cock ache against your bare cunt, your juices coating him as he tries to steady his breathing. 

“F-fuck, you sure you want this?”

He looks pained, like he would shatter if he had to stop now, but you also see in his eyes that he’s genuine. That he’s giving you one last out if you want to take it. Fortunately for you both, you don’t want to.

“Yes, p-please Sunwoo?” 

It’s the desperation in your voice that releases something primal in him, the last bit of reserve leaving him as he lifts your thighs with a harsh grip that makes you see stars, aligning his cock against your entrance. He’s careful and slow, which at first you want to cry about, but you quickly realise that he has to be slow or he may hurt you, your body having to adjust to how tight it’s gripping him. 

“G-god, have you never been fucked before?” 

“Not like t-this,” your mouth hangs open, eyes shut as he feels his possession of you grow, and it does things to him knowing that it’s only him that’s got you squeezing around his cock like it’s your first time. 

“There you go,” the praise makes you whimper again, clenching around him and Sunwoo nearly sees stars when he realises how much you like to be praised and told you’re good for him. 

He feels like you’re cursing him straight to hell with the thoughts you’re giving him, something primal in him awakening, leaving him barely able to wait for you to let him move. 

“P-please, m-more,” the open door has been forgotten the second Sunwoo lifts you off his cock before slamming into you, making you nearly scream in pleasure though he muffles it with his hand, alarmed though not near enough to have him stop. He doesn’t think he can, not with the way you feel around him, meeting the thrusts of his hips halfway as you bounce on his cock. 

“S-Sunwoo, m-more,” he groans, eyes falling between the way he disappears inside you and your lips, and he knows he can never return to seeing you the way he did before, not now that he knows he’s gotten his hands on you. 

“I want you to belong to me,” it should maybe be alarming, to hear him lay claim on you like this, but to you it’s the sexiest thing anyone’s said to you, and honestly, you know you already do. 

“F-fuck, yes,” your movements quicken, his hand finding the base of your neck, just to grip onto you but not adding any pressure, but the action is enough to urge you on, like you want to do more for him and he hisses at the way your wrapped around him so tight and willing. 

“Good, y-you do so good,” Sunwoo feels like he’s burning, gripping both your hips when he feels you lose control at his praise, keeping you in place with a vice hold that might even bruise, and you know you’re going not going to last. Not when you see the way his eyes are glazed over and never leaving you, his hair clinging to his forehead and his muscular chest moving rapidly as he breathes.

“Sunwoo, I-”

“I k-know baby,” his voice is smooth, but his pace is feverish and rough, and his neck presents itself to you just as the scale tips and you’re releasing your orgasm, biting into the skin of his shoulder to hide your pleasured screams of his name, the cries and the pathetic way he makes you whimper and see stars. 

The pressure and pain from your teeth and knowing why you bit him just as you grip his cock harder inside your walls has him spilling his cum into you before he can properly warn you, but you don’t seem to mind at all as his lips fall to your shoulder, muffling his own breathing as you both come down from your high. 

His hands find your back, nails grazing the skin gently before he’s just holding you in his arms, wincing slightly from the way you’re stimulating his cock even now, but when he tries to pull away from you, you grip onto him tighter. 

“P-please,” he nearly wants to cry, head falling back against the headboard as he looks up, trying to collect himself and maybe even think about what he’s just done. But all that runs through his mind is how you’re keeping him in place, gripping him, whimpering and willing and his, and he’s forgetting every possible consequence to his insane actions. 

“I’m a dead man,” you laugh, properly for the first time in a while and it makes him smile, and as much as he wants to keep you over him, to fill you up, he’s also a little more than relieved when you fall next to him because he’s not sure he could’ve handled the overstimulation any longer without being the one to beg. 

“So is Changmin,” even if your best friend will likely ask you questions, and likely throw it in your face that he did you a favor, you still very much want to kill him. Sunwoo chuckles, brushing his fingers against your shoulder gently, and the way his eyes are watching you so softly now makes your head spin.

“Kim Sunwoo, put your fucking clothes on or I will drag your naked ass out anyway, you’re dead,” both of you tense, simultaneously looking to the ajar door, though you can’t actually see Juyeon, you just very much know he’s there. You guess it could be considered kind of him to not just barge in, but it almost makes you more embarassed because if he’s not walking in, he knows exactly why he shouldn’t and there’s no way out for either of you.

You expect Sunwoo to be more ashamed or worried, but he sends you a cheeky grin and kisses your forehead before stumbling over to his discarded grey sweats. 

“Well, guess I have to go princess,” and while you’re left blushing, incredibly embarrassed, his bashfulness makes you smile, even when you know that Sunwoo is very much screwed. 

“Y/N, you too. Now.”

And so are you. 

waiting to be chased for the open ending but it just wasn’t important to the story to add what happens there so... 

anyway thank you to everyone for reading, commenting and liking my work even while i was gone :) there will be more cause like i said... moonbae threesome and juyeon hands whoops

on a rather serious note though, please do not plagiarise my damn work. i spend hours on it and while i was grateful to be tagged and made aware of what was happening to me and other writers, it really makes it hard to even have motivation to write and dedicate that time if someone just takes it. i understand similarities in ideas because that happens (like please, as if i’m the first to do brothers best friend), but to copy paste is just beyond disrespectful and i’m tired of it. 

tbz masterlist

[wolfiesmoon]

Ice skate date?

TWST x gn!reader

characters featured: riddle, azul, ruggie

since i am obsessed with the concept of teaching (almost) grown men how to skate, i return with brainrot (twst edition)

but then again i have a feeling that a lot of the characters have no idea how to ice skate (due to various reasons I'll get into here) . if there happen to be any events or lore where the characters actually know how to ice skate consider this to be a fun little au where they dont

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Riddle Rosehearts

There's no time for useless things when you want to achieve perfection.

That's what Riddle's mom told him when he expressed interest in anything but studying. She had every minute detail planned out and a "useless hobby" would not fit in.

Therefore, Riddle never learned how to ice skate. You can imagine he has his reservations about going to the rink with you.

After a bit of convincing and lots of reassuring him that you won't laugh under any circumstance, he begrudgingly agreed to go.

As soon as he stepped on the ice, he felt unsafe, like he might fall over at any moment but you quickly held out your arm for him to hang onto.

"Thanks." He looked a little startled which almost made you laugh but you shouldn't break a promise.

His grip on your arm tightened as he attempted to glide across the ice beside you. Seems he's really afraid of falling.

"Relax, you'll pull my arm off if you squeeze it that hard." You reminded him gently. You have a feeling you understand why he's so determined to not fall even once and avoiding the stares of curious children.

His grip on your arm loosened but that made him stumble on the ice and almost fall over and he immediately gripped you again. At this point you're worried you'll lose circulation.

"Riddle, it's fine if you fall. You shouldn't worry too much." You smiled, remembering how you used to fall a lot back when you were first learning to ice skate.

"Even I still fall on the ice a lot. This is nothing like a magic history exam, you don't need to be perfect. There's no way to be completely perfect here, anyways."

"I know that. Do not patronize me." Riddle huffed, leaning onto you more and attempting to slide on the ice properly.

"I was not." You wondered if you were too vague with your advice. Did he even get what you meant to say?

Actually, now that you take another look at him, he looks more relaxed and at ease. "Riddle, you idiot. You don't have to act so modest when you're glad I understand you." You thought to yourself, looking lovingly at his determined face.

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Azul Ashengrotto

Honestly, where would he learn to ice skate under the sea? He never even used legs until his teenage years, so ice skating was completely out of the question until now.

That being said, he felt less than confident stepping on the ice.

It was still water, but he didn't like it in this solid form. It was much too slippery and unpredictable for his liking.

"Come here! You can do it! Come on!" You were standing around 5 metres to his right, beckoning him to come over as if he's a toddler who's just learning how to properly walk.

"Drop the babytalking, please." he was definitely not amused which only made you giggle harder.

"Oh, but I was so benevolent as to help you learn how to ice skate. What a shame that my help is so unnapreciated." you did your best Azul impression.

"Wow. I would compliment your acting skills if this wasn't completely innacurate and used to make fun of me." despite that, he managed to somehow make his way to your side, stumbling a few times.

You smiled cheekily, pointing at the edge. "Hold onto that. And onto me too, if you want." He did as you insctructed, looking a little nervous and unsure.

A little kid passed by the two of you, staring curiously at Azul. It must be a little weird to see someone so old just learning how to ice skate for the first time. You anticipated the little children staring.

You could feel him squeeze your arm slightly tighter at that and he seemed to be looking outside the ice rink, avoiding your eyes.

You gently took his hand.

"It's fine. Don't think about it too hard."

You felt him stiffen for a moment.

"You're honestly pretty scary sometimes, you know that?" you had no idea in what sense he meant that since he still didn't look your way. But you have a feeling his cheeks are pink right now.

Doesn't matter either way since he squeezed your hand lovingly.

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Ruggie Bucchi

"Aw man, I just can't get this right." You helped Ruggie up for what felt like the hundreth time. He had free time this weekend so you suggested ice skating, to which he immediately told to he doesn't know how to.

Thinking back on it, it makes complete sense that he wouldn't know how to ice skate. The Sunset Savanna is a very warm nation so snow doesn't fall there and Ruggie didn't exactly grow up in the best living conditions either so he wouldn't have been able to afford a trip to a colder nation anyways.

"You'll get it soon enough." He didn't seem dejected at all even after all the failed attempts to keep up with you, which was nice to see.

"I hope I do, or Leona will get mad at me for being late to tuck him in."

"I still can't get over how ridiculous that is. Tuck him in? What is he, a toddler?" You sighed, catching him when he stumbled over and he thanked you cheekily.

"King's orders, what can ya do." He shrugged. He thinks he's almost got the hang of it now. That's a good thing. Very very good.

"Why are you so determined to learn by today? You know we can always come back some other time." you held his hand, helping him keep balance.

"Isn't it obvious? It's cuz I wanna go on an ice skating date with you. A proper one!" he grinned widely at you, feeling proud of himself.

"Okay, you romantic." you rolled your eyes playfully. The closest you'll get to an "ice skating date" is a beginner skating class for teenagers. Atleast in this short time frame.

But you have to admit, the way he said it with so much determination was downright adorable and almost made you want to cover the rental ice skate fee. Almost.

He'll probably conjure up some insane scheme to avoid paying for them anyways. Which makes you worry about getting in trouble with not just the school, but also the law.

You should probably hold him back this time, huh.

[eliluvschan]

Moonlit Strolls

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 1.323

warnings: just the guys being the biggest supporters of their leader :)

genre: fluff

a/n: happy valentines day guys! i'm single as a pringle but that won't ruin the fun of me posting a new imagine! and like Lixie said in Surfin’ ”i got ninety-nine problems but the sea ain’t one”

Chan was pissed. pissed because his crush, is dating a good for nothing drummer.

“a drummer!” Chan exclaimed. “come on, she had better taste!”

“i need some fresh air. i’ll be back in a while.” Chan told his dongsaengs as he walked out of the door.

“you’ll find someone way better hyung!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

“yeah. whatever.” Chan replied irritated.

he walked outside, pausing only to pet Minho’s cat, Soonie.

he walked to the beach.

walking along the coast, he looked up and saw a sparkling bright moon.

it’s light was dancing off the water in front of him.

looking around, he saw billions of stars and he smiled.

he took of his shoes, rolled up his jeans and walked ankle deep into the water.

the water tickled his toes and he smiled again.

a few minutes went by, and he heard someone sigh.

he turned his head, only to look at the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

she had dark hair and her eyes were twinkling, the perfect moon reflected in them.

he was speechless. his jaw dropped and he made a funny gagging sound.

the girl didn’t notice him.

Chan got control of himself once more.

maybe Hyune was right. he thought. i’ll find someone better than her. i might already have.

but her breath taking beauty kept him frozen to the sandy floor of the beach.

the girl left after another couple of minutes.

Chan’s eyes followed her until she was out of his sight.

“love at first sight?” he asked himself.

yeah. definitely.

he walked back home with his shoes in his hands and his spirits considerably lifted.

he hosed himself and walked inside. he met Soonie along the hall as Chan picked him up and walked into the living room.

the guys were still sitting there.

“hey guys!” he said.

“woah! someone’s feeling good!” Minho said.

Changbin and Seungmin chuckled.

“good luck hyung.” Felix said.

Chan smiled.

“thanks guys.”

he sat down and pet Soonie who fell asleep on his lap.

“so, what’s she like?” Jisung asked.

“beautiful.” Chan said, going into a trance. lost in thoughts, he smiled vaguely.

Jisung, realizing what was happening, hit Chan with a magazine from the coffee table.

“what did you do that for?” Chan shouted.

“we’re asking you something.” Seungmin said calmly.

“what, i told you she’s beautiful. what else did you ask?”

“i asked where you met her.”

“describe.” Minho commanded.

“i was walking in the water and i heard her and i looked around and then i just, literally, froze.”

“that’s it? you suck.” jeongin said laying back on the couch, feet stretched out on Felix’s lap.

“oh, one more thing!” Chan exclaimed.

“what?” they all sat up, waiting for what their leader and hyung was gonna tell them.

“she had dark hair and big shiny eyes and she’s… perfect.”

“my boy’s in love!” Changbin high-fived Felix as Jisung and Hyunjin wiped their fake tears away.

the eight guys sat in silence for a while.

“i’m off to bed.” Chan said and left his little brothers staring after them.

as Chan jumped into bed and punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape, he realized he had no idea who the girl was, where she lived, or if he’d ever see her again.

Soonie climbed up beside him, and Chan fell asleep thinking of that girl, who was the prettiest he’d ever seen.

— ❀ —

the next day, Chan woke up with a plan and a song formed in his mind.

all that i want is you

even if i’m a fool

why do i fall for you

no turning back once we’re connected

he heard a knock on his door and looked up to see Changbin smiling at him.

“nice.” he said.

“thanks, man.” Chan replied.

“so, what’s the plan?” Jisung appeared in the doorway.

“i think he’s moving into these relationships too fast.” came Minho’s voice.

Chan frowned.

“i haven’t been in a relationship in over more than 3 years.”

“so, what was that thing with, uh what was her name again?” Seungmin said, his head poking out the door, as Jeongin agreed with him.

Hyunjin and Minho sighed, shaking their heads.

“are we missing out on something?” Jeongin asked.

“maknae’s, you’re both grounded for five hours.” Changbin face-palmed himself.

“oh ha ha.” were the boys’ reply.

Chan laughed as the boys bickered.

“not our fault we’re always the last ones to know, cause this workaholic here is always in here or his studio at JYP.” Seungmin defended them.

“alright, i’ll try to be less of a workaholic and be more with you guys.” Chan gave in.

“now go get miss mysterious, hyung!” Jeongin said.

“plan says i have to wait.”

“what plan?” Felix’s eyes widened as he looked at the others.

Chan smirked and his eyes flashed.

“ohh, he doesn’t want us to know.” Jisung said pointing at himself and the others.

“ahh, Channie hyung.” Seungmin began. “you’re grounded for fifteen hours.” he winked at the others.

“oh come on! what’d i do now!” Chan asked his dongsaengs exasperatedly.

“you didn’t tell us the plan.” Hyunjin said simply.

“hey, i just thought of it and i’ve got a personal life too, you know!”

“ooh, personal, is it hyung?” Minho said, smirking at Chan.

“uh, what are you guys up to?”

the others grinned.

“guys?” Chan asked with a note of panic in his voice.

the guys ran at Chan and began tickling him.

“guys, guys, stop- stop it. please!” Chan choked out.

— ❀ —

the afternoon passed as the guys just hung around their dorm.

the guys shortened Chan’s period of grounded-ness to six hours because he told them what he was going to do.

“okay, listen.” he told the guys as they all sat in a line on the floor, with Chan in front of the tv.

“i’m gonna go to the beach again tonight and most probably, she’s gonna be there. so, i’ll ask her out then.”

Minho burst out laughing.

“do you seriously think she goes for moonlit strolls everyday?”

“hey, lots of people do and i just know she’s gonna be there.” Chan said defensively.

“good luck, hyung.” Seungmin said, patting his shoulder.

— ❀ —

at the same time as the day before, Chan left the house, pausing again to pet Soonie and walked to the beach, wishing on the stars as he went that the girl would be there.

just like the last day, he took off his shoes and walked into the water, admiring the moon.

why did it have to be so beautiful?

a girl giggled.

Chan looked, and jumped with joy. the mysterious girl was there!

wow, she’s more beautiful than before. he thought.

Chan walked over to her.

“hi.”

“hello.”

“i’m Chan.”

“hello Chan. i’m Y/n.”

“that’s a beautiful name.”

she giggled again.

“thank you.”

Chan smiled.

“do you come here every day?”

“i, uh, no.”

“really? but i saw you here yesterday too.”

did she?

“oh, well. d- do you wanna know the truth?”

“yeah, sure.”

“okay, look. i saw you here yesterday too and i just couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. i mean, i just couldn’t believe how someone could be so pretty. i’m here just because i thought that you might be here too. i wanted to talk to you.”

thank god it’s dark. Chan thought as he blushed.

“really? w- well, you know. i don’t come here every day either. i just saw you here, and thought i’d see you again today. it’s like love at first sight! know what i mean?” she asked and grinned shiftily at him.

“i know exactly what you mean.” Chan smiled.

she smiled and looked up at the moon.

''can i kiss you?''

''yes.''

Chan leaned down and placed a small kiss on her lips.

he took her hand.

“wanna walk with me?”

“yes.”

— ❀ —

“Min! i’m adopting Soonie!” Chan yelled as he entered their dorm.

~

[jamie-leah]

Lifeline

Bucky x Reader Fic

Oneshot? Series? You tell me...

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 1,809

Warnings: Mentions of physical abusive, Abusive relationship, descriptions of panic attack, rusty writing, fluff

A/N: Thought I would dip my toe back in the water, see how you're all doing? Feel free to tell me if you want more and feel free to make requests. I need to get back into the swing of things!

Next Part--->

Masterlist of Masterlists

It’s been two months, and he still hasn’t found you yet. Despite the nightmares and the hypervigilance, you would call that a win. It’s the longest he’s gone without finding you. Maybe he’s given up? But deep down you know that isn’t the case. You humiliated him when you ran, left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. There would be questions from the neighbours, friends and family. He would never let a slight like that go, and you know it.  

The bell dings above the door in the diner you’ve been working at since you arrived in New York. It brings you out of your head and into the present, to see Bucky walk through the door. You hadn’t realised that it was that time in your shift, looking over to the clock to confirm that it was in fact nine at night.  

You give him a smile. A small one, but the most genuine you’ve been able to manage since running from your ex almost a year ago now. He returns a full watt smile of his own. A smile you never see him give to anyone else, but you don’t look too deeply into that considering you’ve never seen him outside of this diner.  

He sits at the bar upfront to the counter where you already have his black coffee waiting, “you fancy any food? Kitchen is closing soon”, you ask.  

“I’ll take a plate of fries if there’s any going?”, his voice sending a tiny shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl ever so slightly. You are aware of this growing attraction you have to him since he started to come in here regularly a week after you started. And you hadn’t thought about anyone like that since...well since you started your relationship with Andrew around seven years ago.  

Bucky never said much the first few times he came in. He would just nurse a few cups of coffee at night and then leave but after two weeks like that he caught you on a particularly rough day. You were in the middle of a panic attack when he jumped into action and calmed you down and stared anyone down who might have looked or said anything.  

Since then, the damn broke and while you may have not told him about your ex, you both shared some personal titbits that would probably qualify you as friends rather than acquaintances. And ever since that time you told him you hadn’t had time for a break or a bite to eat, he orders fries and makes you share with him. He feigns that the portions are too big, and he needs your help to finish them off, but you know better. You don’t say otherwise, you’re grateful either way.  

When you place the fries in front of him, he asks, “busy tonight?”  

You shake your head as you pop a fry into your mouth, “not really. It’s always quiet on a Tuesday. How was your day? Save anyone today?”  

Bucky rolls his eyes at you. You had no idea who he was when he first came in. And Bucky still had to spell out who he was and why people stared at him in the diner. You were vaguely aware of superheroes, but Andrew kept you rather sheltered so you never knew who they were or the politics of them all.  

Bucky grabs the ketchup and squirts some on your side of the plate and some on his, “no missions today. You know I’m gone for a while when I am.”  

You sigh, because yes you do know he’s gone for a while when he has missions and its usually the longest days or sometimes weeks without him coming in every day.  

You shrug, “I don’t know, there was that time you saved someone from a car explosion on your way here.”  

You smirk as he groans at the mention of his heroics, “that was one time! I can’t believe that even showed on the news.”  

You throw a fry at his face, “I can’t believe I had to find out from the news! You didn’t say a word the entire time you sat here.”  

You laugh as you see a familiar blush creep up from his neck and blooms on his sharp cheeks, “I didn’t think it was a big deal”, he mumbles out.  

Someone walks in through the door, the familiar bell ringing. You walk from behind the counter as they take a seat at a booth. You squeeze Bucky’s shoulder as you pass by and murmur, “everything you do is a big deal to me.”  

You don’t wait for his reply or even a reaction as you head over to the couple talking quietly. You take their order and head over to the back and shout through to Kevin, “hey Kev, you got time for one more food order?”  

He pokes his head from the back, “sure thing”  

You pass him the slip and turn back to Bucky about to say something when a smash comes from the kitchen. You duck. No time to think, your body reacts on instinct, preparing for the worst while try to dodge the inevitable violence that is always directed at you.  

You stay crouched on the floor frozen in place, trapped in your mind at a time when you burned dinner for Andrew, and he threw places and cups all around the kitchen. Curled up on the floor, arms over your head trying to stop any shards from catching your face. You had to pick a few from your arms when he finally calmed down and left to go to the bar.  

Warm hands reach out to hold your face steady. You didn’t know your body was shaking until those hands held your face. So gentle in their touch you know they can’t be Andrew’s. You peek your eyes open and see beautiful, plump lips moving, forming shapes that should come out as words, but you don’t hear anything. Just rushing in your ears.  

It isn’t until your eyes glide up to the steel blue of Bucky’s that you let the air back into your lungs, the roaring subsiding until you hear his quiet murmurs, “you’re here, you’re safe with me. Come back to me.”  

Bucky feels you return to yourself more as your eyes dart around and your hands come to grip his tightly which are still holding your face. You manage a strangled, “I’m sorry” before your throat closes again.  

Bucky shakes his head, “nothing to apologise for.” 

When your whole body stops shaking, Bucky guides you back to a standing position. You glance over the counter, and no one is looking. They had no idea that your whole world suddenly came to a stop. No idea that you practically broke down over a broken plate in the kitchen.  

Bucky pulls your gaze back to his, “you with me?”  

You nod slowly, still not trusting your voice.  

Kevin puts the plates of food down on in the window without even looking before heading back to the kitchen. You reach out, your hands still shaking to take the plates but Bucky captures your hands with his. He links them for a few moments before placing them back at your sides. He takes the plates and heads over to the table you took the order from and delivers them with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.  

His false cheeriness is what starts to bring you back to yourself as you raise your eyebrows at his return, “why don’t you ever greet me like that?”  

He laughs, his head tipping back as he takes his seat again, “because you’re special.”  

“That’s what you say to all the girls”, you reply.  

And just like that the incident is gone. Not forgotten though, you don’t miss the way Bucky watches you more closely, the corners of his mouth set slightly lower now that he’s reminded of how broken you really are. He doesn’t ask, and you’re grateful for that. You’re not ready to talk about the monster that you try pretending doesn’t exist. But you never forget either.  

Bucky stays with you for the rest of your shift. He stands behind you like a bodyguard as you lock up the diner at one in the morning, just when the clubs really start getting busy. He makes a point to walk you all the way back to your apartment building and you don’t miss the frown he always gives it.  

You bump his arm with your shoulder, “it's not as bad as it looks, you know.” 

His face scrunches up, “if you say so. Still don’t like the thought of leaving you here though.”  

You bump into him again with a small smile, “careful Buck, some people might think you’ve gone soft.” 

You see his mouth twitch upwards as he replies, “only for some people.” 

You stare into the eyes that are staring back at you. You can feel them trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite understand. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t make sense. Someone like you doesn’t get to be happy, someone like you doesn’t get someone like him. You’ve never been that lucky.  

A horn blare down the street, as people whoop from the windows. It breaks the spell as you both turn to look with a small chuckle.  

“I better get inside, I’m beat.” You tell him as you point to your building.  

Bucky clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, definitely. I might be gone for a couple of days. A few things I need to take care of but I’m back on your day off...fancy hanging out?” 

The question almost trails off, but his stare remains intense. It dries up your throat as you open it and close it like a fish for a few moments.  

“It’s okay if you had plans, I just thought it might be nice to do something outside the diner and-”  

“I’d love to.”  

“And I was thinking we could- wait, really?” He looks to you as if he’s waiting for the punchline and it makes your heart ache.  

You give him a warm smile, “I’d love to do something. Despite being here for a few months, I haven’t seen much of New York so will be nice to get out with someone that knows it well.”  

His face splits in two to let out a huge smile, “Okay...okay, I’ll text you when I’m back?” 

You give him a nod and a shy smile, “yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.”  

His smile is so wide you don’t think he’ll be able to get any words out, so you turn and walk into your building, only glancing back once the elevator doors open to see him still stood there, smiling.  

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I didn't like the result of this oneshot to be honest, idk, the idea was good but the writing turned out bad along the way. But this had been sitting on my drafts for quite a while so I'm just gonna post it so I don't have to look at it whenever I open my drafts. Maybe you darlings can find something about this enjoyable, maybe not.

You wake up slowly, the first light of dawn slipping through the gap in your curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The soft illumination reveals the familiar shapes of your bed, wardrobe, a small table, and a few scattered books.

You reach for your phone and check the time: 7 AM. For a few moments, you simply lie there, processing the fact that you were awake so early, trying to recall if you had any dreams. You vaguely remember a loud noise but can’t quite place it if it was real or part of your dream.

Stretching lazily, you begin to shake off the remnants of sleep. As you become more alert, the sound you thought was part of a dream becomes clearer, vivid. What initially seemed like distant murmurs from your neighbors now grows distinct, nearer.

The voices aren’t coming from outside — they’re inside your house. Someone - not one but two people - were inside your house right at that moment, talking excitedly in whispers and murmurs. You blinked, confused, questioning if your mind was playing tricks on you.

"Jamil, this place is incredible! Look at all these things!" The voice is energetic and familiar, bursting with excitement. You can almost picture the person’s smile just by hearing it.

"Please, Kalim, don’t touch anything until we figure out what’s going on," Another voice responds, calm but firm, tinged with exasperation. It’s a voice you recognize as well. "We need to understand where we are first. I’m still investigating."

Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, your feet meeting the cool wooden floor. You hesitate, wondering if you should grab something for protection, but there’s nothing within reach. A book, a vase, a shoe, nothing that could injury or incapacitate a thief. With your heart pounding and without thinking much, you open the bedroom door.

In the hallway, you see something that wasn't expected: Kalim, with his silver hair and colorful attire, is curiously examining the objects around him, while Jamil, his eyes sharp and arms crossed, surveys the scene cautiously.

"Oh my God…" Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief. You close the door quickly, trying to wrap your mind around what you’ve just seen. After a few more seconds, with your heart racing, you open it again.

"Uh, hello! I’m Kalim and this is my friend Jamil. I think… we got lost and ended up here. What place is this?" Kalim asks, his sweet smile making your heart skip a beat. Your face heats a little as you struggle to find words.

This time, Kalim and Jamil, your favorite characters from Twisted Wonderland, are standing right in front of your door, Kalim’s hand raised as if he was about to knock. You freeze, staring at them as they stare back at you.

It's a little awkward, really. Being so close to them like that, seeing how different they are from their 2D version. Kalim shifts the weight from his leg to one over the other, a smile growing on his face.

Is this real or a dream? You can’t tell.

Realizing you need to respond, you clear your throat and explain that they’re in your house and tell them the name of your country. Jamil looks puzzled for a second.

"I beg your pardon? Could you repeat the country name?"

You do, aware that it doesn’t exist in their world — not from what you remember, there wasn't an equivalent of it in their world, still you just started playing so you didn't know much about it or about them, as you were still in Savanaclaw chapter. Kalim and Jamil exchange glances.

Jamil, clearly uneasy, speaks up. "We need to find a way back home. Could you possibly help us?"

As he begins explaining how they ended up here - through a portal that appeared from thin air and brought them there, you notice from the corner of your eye Kalim wandering around, his curiosity piqued by everything in the room. He picks up a book from the shelf, flipping through it with childlike wonder, occasionally letting out a delighted squeal when he spots a particularly beautiful picture or drawing. It's cute to see.

"Look, Jamil! This book has so many interesting stories!" Kalim turns to you, eyes sparkling. "You have so many beautiful things here. I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer."

You smile, feeling more at ease. "Well, that’s good to hear, because magic isn't real here nor anyone knows how to use it, so I’m not sure how much I can help you two."

Jamil nods, his expression thoughtful as he processes this new information. He falls silent, clearly rethinking his plans. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is — more so than you imagined. A selfish part of you doesn’t want them to return to Twisted Wonderland, even though you know they have people waiting for them back home.

"Can I make breakfast for you two?" You offer, hoping to lighten the mood. Kalim’s face lights up instantly.

Kalim has his siblings, his parents, so does Jamil. Despite your thoughts, you want to help. You’ve read enough isekai stories to understand how painful it must be to be away from everything familiar. They've might love here for a few weeks but then homesickness will kick in.

"I’d love that! Especially if it’s something different from what we eat in Scarabia," He responds, placing the book back on its original place.

Kalim eagerly sits down, his eyes darting around, taking in every detail of your kitchen. Jamil, on the other hand, sits more cautiously, his posture straight and alert.

As you head to the kitchen, still surprised and speechless, Kalim and Jamil following closely behind, both still taking in the unfamiliar surrounding. You gesture for them to take a seat at the small kitchen table. "Make yourselves comfortable. It might not be as grand as what you’re used to, but I’ll whip up something tasty."

As you start gathering ingredients, you hear Kalim ask, "So, what kind of food do you usually eat here? Is it spicy? Sweet?"

You chuckle at his enthusiasm. "I have a bit of everything. But I think you’ll like pancakes. They’re sweet, especially with some syrup or fruit."

"Pancakes?" Kalim repeats, the word foreign yet intriguing to him. "That sounds delicious!"

Jamil, still cautious but visibly more relaxed, adds, "It might be best to eat something simple. We don't know how long we’ll be here."

You nod, understanding his concern. "Don’t worry, pancakes are quick and easy. We can figure out the rest after breakfast."

As you prepare the batter, Kalim continues to pepper you with questions about your world, about you or your family, about this country or the culture. He’s fascinated by everything, from the kitchen appliances to the types of food you describe, from the legends and old myths to the songs and stories. Jamil listens quietly, occasionally nodding, but it’s clear his mind is focused on something else - probably the situation they’re in and how to resolve it.

After a few minutes, the kitchen fills with the mouth-watering aroma of pancakes cooking on the griddle. Kalim’s eyes widen as he watches you flip them with practiced ease.

"Wow, you’re really good at this!" Kalim exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat.

You smile, enjoying the warmth of their company despite the odd circumstances. "I’ve had a lot of practice. Plus, pancakes are pretty tasty so I eat them often."

As you serve the pancakes with syrup and some fruits, Kalim eagerly reaches for a plate, his excitement contagious. Jamil takes his with more restraint but seems genuinely curious about the taste.

Kalim takes a big bite and his eyes widen in delight. "These are amazing! Jamil, you have to try them!"

Jamil cuts a small piece, his expression remaining neutral as he tastes it - he was wearing that same neutral face as you cooked, watching over you like a hawk so you wouldn't try to poison Kalim. But after a moment, a small, appreciative smile appears on his lip. "They’re quite good."

You feel a sense of satisfaction seeing them enjoy something so simple. As you sit down to eat with them, Kalim continues to chatter, sharing stories about his world, his life at Scarabia, and all the adventures he’s been on, all which you know about since you spent so much time reading his and Jamil's vignettes. Jamil, while more reserved, occasionally chimes in with corrections or additional details, his tone always careful but respectful.

The conversation flows easily and you find yourself getting lost in their stories, almost forgetting that this whole situation is surreal. But eventually, the reality of it starts to settle in again and you realize that, as much as you’re enjoying their company, you need to help them find a way back.

"So," You begin, setting down your fork, "do you have any idea how you got here? Maybe we can figure out a way to reverse it."

Jamil straightens, his expression serious. "It’s still unclear. We were performing a task in the Hall of Mirrors when a portal unexpectedly opened. I tried to close it, but it pulled us through before I could react."

Kalim, still enjoying his pancakes, adds, his mouth half full as he respond to you, "I thought it was just another adventure, but now… it seems more complicated than that."

You nod, trying to piece together what they’re saying with your limited knowledge of their world. "I don’t have magic, but maybe there’s something here that can help. Books, maybe? Or something from the internet?"

Jamil raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Books and the internet? Perhaps there’s information that could be useful. We should start with what you have here."

Kalim, still beaming from the breakfast, jumps to his feet. "I’m ready to help! Where should we start?"

You glance around your home, thinking about where to begin. "I have some books on mythology and folklore that might have similar stories. And I can look up anything online that seems relevant. We’ll figure this out together."

Jamil nods, his expression a mix of determination and gratitude. "Thank you. Your help is greatly appreciated."

As you all prepare to dive into research, a sense of fear is palpable in the air, almost as if they were afraid they wouldn't be able to return home. Wishing on a star was something you used to do, you wished hard for things to happen, for things to be possible. And now they were. Jamil and Kalim were here, by your side, Kalim sitting beside you while Jamil was resting his face on his hands, tired. And as you begin your search, you can’t help but feel that this something out of a silly story. And you're going to do your best to send them back home.

[maxlarens]

(ONE MORE TONIGHT SORRY) 📎: Oscar and his (forbidden) love for pain au chocolat leading him to a tiny bakery outside Monaco bc less eyes and obviously it becomes his favorite spot (actually I want to do a smau on this now 😭)

sorry this took me five years i had so many thoughts it was actually hard to narrow down. surprise i rambled about another oscar idea that viv gave me! who's shocked?

yes😌 and i agree u do need to write an smau for this anyway. LOVE. so obviously he finds the exact bakery that you work at on a stewpid little rental bike😣 like he’s just riding around trying to get used to the city and he stumbles upon this like hole in the wall, tucked away little bakery because he can smell it all the way down the street or something. and can’t help himself.

and maybe he discovers it on break where he doesn’t have to be SO strict with his diet. and he comes back every couple of days because he gets like... ADDICTED to the pain au chocolat there. and y’know he notices you of course because you’re there every time. and he’s normal about it at first, doesn't think too much of you. until you start to acknowledge that he's a bit of a regular. and then it's like he finds himself thinking about you all the time. and he thinks okay maybe a side effect of being addicted to the pastries? but he its not like hes thinking about the food. he's thinking about your hair, the way you smell, your accent, the way you smile when he comes into view

you probably develop a bit of relationship over a few weeks. since he has to wait for you to make his coffee and for the pain au chocolat to heat up, he does a lot of standing around at the counter and chatting. it's awkward at first because oscar is. but the two of you warm up to each other quickly. you tell him what you're doing living in monaco, he tells you vague bits about his job without revealing too much straight away. he laments about his diet, you tell him he has to come by for coffee anyway. and he does, whenever he can. he starts to integrate the bakery into his running/cycling route as much as possible. he's there basically everyday. but when you tell your coworkers (who work on your off days) they have no clue who he is because he doesn't bother to come around if you're not there😭

secretly he thinks the coffee is average.

simply a MUST for you to start calling him pastry boy as a joke. this is how you learn his last name. and how you find out he's a formula one driver. which you obviously ask him tons of questions about while he blushes his lil head off🥺

i think the two of you continue like this for a while. and even though you know it's far more than a normal cashier/customer relationship, i think you're both reluctant to cross that line. you especially. because he's an f1 driver and you're just a barista. so i think you wait for oscar to make a move. he does eventually.

maybe around the monaco gp and he starts thinking about how he'd really like to see you there? he asks you out for lunch on a not-date date and things go well from there😌

the slow burn of it all is so cute i think! trying to find excuses to go see you even when his diet doesn't allow for it. the conversations that you get wrapped up in that can only go for so long until you're neglecting your job. oscar timing his visits to near your lunch break so he can spend more time with your attention on him. the slow integration of you into his life. and eventually you're living with him and maybe you get a different job but you still bring him pain au chocolat from that bakery🤭

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013 

You were outside when the woman rode up. 

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you. 

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different. 

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home. 

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.  

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up. 

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon. 

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.” 

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense. 

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened. 

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.” 

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!” 

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two. 

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.  

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…” 

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.” 

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…” 

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’” 

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing. 

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off. 

“Should have listened….” 

You glared at her. 

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. ��And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Glad you spared me.” 

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock. 

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…” 

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.” 

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…” 

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.” 

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.” 

“Dance party?” He frowned. 

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face. 

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall. 

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before. 

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did. 

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier. 

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission. 

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you. 

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow. 

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest. 

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.” 

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face. 

“You found people outside?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…” 

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. 

“The clinic…” 

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic. 

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside. 

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…” 

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…” 

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg. 

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?” 

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.” 

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.” 

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again. 

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…” 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you. 

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in. 

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…” 

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…” 

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see. 

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.” 

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…” 

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…” 

“Yes, I can.” 

You moved around him and he followed. 

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…” 

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it. 

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…” 

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…” 

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…” 

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…” 

“You…” he breathed. 

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.” 

*** 

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it. 

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…” 

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you. 

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.” 

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin. 

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…” 

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face. 

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…” 

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.” 

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you. 

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?” 

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…” 

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face. 

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…” 

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…” 

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath. 

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…” 

“I need you to take Savannah.” 

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…” 

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.” 

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…” 

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.” 

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes. 

“OK.” 

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20. 

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. 

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?” 

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat. 

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.” 

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child. 

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter. 

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.” 

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.” 

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand. 

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close. 

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world. 

August 2018 

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope. 

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…” 

“But they’re people.” 

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. 

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.” 

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing. 

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you. 

“Mama!” 

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you. 

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…” 

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?” 

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time. 

But the world, you knew, was not so kind. 

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library. 

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder. 

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK. 

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?” 

“What else would I need to shoot?” 

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book. 

“What?” 

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?” 

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.” 

“But I like animals,” she pouted. 

You smiled. 

“I know you do.” 

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you. 

You sighed. 

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.” 

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face. 

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe. 

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.” 

September 15, 2023 

“Mom?” 

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside. 

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?” 

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.  

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat. 

“Gattling, release.” 

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance. 

“We have to move.” 

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…” 

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.” 

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack. 

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.” 

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it. 

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment. 

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?” 

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…” 

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide. 

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…” 

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.” 

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.” 

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.” 

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody. 

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.” 

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her. 

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her. 

“Just three days, right Mom?” 

You swallowed, hard, before nodding. 

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules. 

You needed to buy her time. 

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape. 

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill. 

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised. 

You had to get back to her. 

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention. 

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you. 

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…” 

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. 

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?” 

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy. 

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

He laughed. 

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…” 

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground. 

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed. 

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.” 

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up. 

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…” 

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!” 

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other. 

“Show ‘er.” 

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair. 

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…” 

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.  

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…” 

Mitchum smiled. 

“Good.” 

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose. 

It was a year before there was room for anything else. 

Early April, 2027 

“Bambi…” 

“Move, Joel.” 

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her. 

First aid, that you’d need. 

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…” 

“I have to try.” 

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it. 

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…” 

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.” 

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…” 

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?” 

He froze, looking at you. 

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.” 

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…” 

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…” 

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart. 

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could. 

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…” 

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…” 

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…” 

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…” 

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…” 

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!” 

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls. 

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin. 

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…” 

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see. 

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you. 

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!” 

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain. 

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…” 

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…” 

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…” 

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…” 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…” 

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook. 

“Bambi…” 

“Get out,” you managed. 

He said your name. Your real name. 

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!” 

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…” 

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….” 

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!” 

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.” 

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.” 

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again. 

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

[lamboficarus]

im slowly losing how i did the star thing.

we came up with the idea that it was a power source of some sort and that it exists because grain is a gardener divine (out in the wild, someone had to be taking care of the divine. hence, special-type divine that takes care of the others. the star thing provides warmth so that the gardener doesnt freeze overnight. these divines also have some combat abilities that im still ironing out, because i *assume* they were part of an ecosystem before. even regular divine are theoretically a threat if you walk into their pens. so. motions vaguely. grain can be too, but moreso.)

anyway.

grain exists down in the blacksite because the caretakers werent allowed to leave the facility until everyone else had evacuated. the last caretaker left alive, Circe Celian (praise be the naming conventions of canon game) who was injured when the facility originally went into lockdown, used the time she had left to create conditions in the garden that would allow a special-type divine to grow, so that it would take her place when she died. If she wasnt going to make it, the least she could do is give those who remain a chance at survival.

at the bottom of the ocean, oxygen is a limited resource.

Grains role, if he were actually in the game, would be to make rounds around the facility, dropping the corpses of dead expendables off in the gardens to be used as fertilizer. You can fill up oxygen tanks if you find him in the halls, or offer the corpses of your friends in exchange for protection until you reach any in-game milestone. If you find his prices to be too high, you can tell him stories of places outside the blacksite.

you'll have to hope he likes it, because if he doesnt, well.

he might just kill you when your back is turned.

youre most useful to him dead, after all.

Occasionally he runs into sebastian picking up expendables in exchange for ferryman tokens. there may have been a few times where grains been like "nah id win" and refused to hand over an expendable when asked. he has a job to do and the rest of you WILL die of oxygen deprivation if he cant get it done.

kehe

(in this au, hes eventually the only divine left, and seeing as he's mobile ((and the timelines been extended to several months)) he's the only way any expendable would ever make it to the outer edges of the facility alive. the rest were either killed or burned to death.)