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someplace-darker · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 10: Drunk Sex | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie munson x reader (no y/n)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, PWP, Drunk sex, dubcon due to said drunkness, riding, implied facesitting, no protection (wrap it!!), semi-public sex (they're in his van in the woods but whatever), reader is afab but no pronouns are used

Summary: Eddie picks you up to celebrate his birthday with whiskey and stargazing, only to end up getting a present from you in a different form than usual.

A/N: holy shit i told myself i would make this one only like 800 words but noooo I had to push. This is also kind of cute and intimate. Oh well, it's late and i'm tired! I haven't written for Eddie in a second but I hope yall enjoy!

It’s cold in Eddie’s van, the back doors open to ‘let some air in’ as he had said, but you wonder if it’s actually just an excuse to tangle your legs with his and press your flushed cheek to his equally warm chest. He had picked you up from your job, insisting that you ride with him and he’d take you back to your car in the morning. You agreed, since it was his birthday and god he just had to look at you with the widest eyes possible.

So, you sat in his van drinking and telling stories until the sun set behind the hills of Hawkins, now pointing at the stars and naming them. Eddie loves listening to you talk about the stars, even if you are forgetting a few of them right now and he has no clue what you’re talking about.

“See that one?” you question, waggling your finger at the sky until he looks away from you, peering out the back. “I think so,” he murmurs, voice low and slurred just slightly, the warm whiskey settling into the pit of your stomachs easily. “It’s a bear,” you hum, dropping your hand back down to hold his waist, nosing against his chest until he turns his head and kisses your temple.

“I don’t know how you remember all of this stuff, baby,” Eddie shifts to pull your body on top of his, grunting when you settle completely. A breeze blows through the back, making you shiver and press harder into him as if he could fight the wind for you. If you would ask him, he’d say yes. “We learned about it in fifth grade Eds, I just don’t think you were listening,” Eddie grunts as you shift, hands settling on your ass to keep you from moving more.

“Probably not,” he confirms, groaning under his breath when you move again, unknowingly pressing down onto his crotch. It takes a bit longer for your brain to catch up with Eddie’s predicament, his cock pressing into your abdomen for about two minutes before you notice.

“Oh,” you grin, planting your hands on the floor beside his shoulders and pushing yourself up until you’re seated on him. It’s dark to the point that you need to squint to truly see him, his hair frizzed and splayed out beneath his head, cheeks tinted rosy red from the celebratory alcohol in his system. “Can I give you a present, Eddie? Do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, waiting for an answer before moving any further.

His tongue flits out to wet his lips, his grip on your backside firm as he pulls you forward in a short motion that causes you both to moan “yes, please.”

Your movements are unbalanced as you try to back up enough to tug at the button of his faded jeans, wobbling slightly and nearly toppling off of him as you both giggle at yourselves, Eddie’s hands coming up to hold yours until you’re able to gather your bearings once more. “Careful baby,” he grins, long lashes brushing against his cheekbones as he blinks up at you, adoration clouding his gaze. The warmth in his tone makes you shiver, forcing yourself to focus on the small metal piece keeping you from touching him. Eddie watches you with an amused expression, rubbing his thumbs against your thighs.

“Why is this so fucking hard,” you grumble, the buzz in your fingers becoming more annoying than it was enjoyable before. The button finally pops out of the loop after a minute, your arms shooting into the air as you whoop triumphantly. “That was s- so much fun to watch, seriously, I think we should do it again,” Eddie teases, jokingly reaching for it before you swat at his hand, tugging at the zipper and tugging the waistband past his ass to his mid-thigh.

“Yeah keep laughing shithead,” you say with as much affection as possible, fire lighting in your stomach when Eddies stops laughing to moan as your hand finally grips him under his boxers. His eyes pinch shut, lips parted around a gasp, your grip on his cock light as you twist your wrist and pump him in your hand.

“Baby, I love you so much and this is so fucking hot- but I will not last right now if you keep going,” Eddie forces out honestly, muttering curse words under his breath when you pull him free and climb back up his legs, bunching your skirt to your waist and pulling the crotch of your underwear to the side. The glimpse you get of his dick before you straddle him completely is one you’re grateful for, flush and twitching under your watchful eye, the tip beading with precum.

There’s something inherently romantic about riding him in the back of his van on his birthday after stargazing, and you wish that you could snap a picture of what he looks like at this moment. Splayed beneath you with bitten raw lips, brown curls sticking to his forehead and cheeks red from the alcohol in his system, letting you take the reins with such willingness and trust it makes your heart ache. You line yourself up with his cock and lower yourself just enough for him to press into you, then reaching for his hands and placing them on your hips.

“Go ahead, Eds. It’s your day. I’m yours,” your coo morphing into a sigh when he pulls you down at the same time he plants his feet to thrust up into you. It can’t be comfortable to have sex in a t-shirt and leather jacket but Eddie’s too focused on you to mind, ignoring the rapidly climbing temperature coming from the heat between your bodies.

“I’m so lucky,” Eddie grunts, eyes flicking to where his cock disappears into your cunt, awe written so deep into his features you wonder if that will become his permanent expression. The cotton of your underwear digs into the crook of your thigh uncomfortably, but the spinning in your head dismisses it, too focused on how each snap of his hips into yours makes your body light up.

Once his eyebrows pull tight and his eyes roll back you know he’s close, his coordination faltering more than it already was. You can see the focus on his features as he tries his hardest to hold back, letting go of your body to run his hands down his face in concentration, legs stilling.

“Give me- fuck, sorry, give me a second, I wanna make you cum first but I just- so close,” Eddie groans and you smile sweetly, even when you offer to make him feel good he’s still thinking of you foremost.

“It’s okay Eddie, you can cum,” you whisper, leaning back and placing your hands palm down beside his knees to move easier, the view it gives him a pro as well. Eddie blubbers senselessly, nodding with earnestness when you start grinding forward and down, swiveling your hips for added effect. You can feel the twitch of his dick inside of you, strings of fuck leaving his mouth before he taps your ass twice and you lift off of him, panting from the exertion while he pumps himself in his own hand before cumming with a whine onto your lower stomach.

It takes several moments for Eddie to gather his composure, blinking at you in all his drunken glory before chuckling quietly to himself. It’s cute, you think, the deliriousness of his orgasm mixing with the pussy drunk look on his face. You go to readjust your underwear back into their spot but Eddie grabs your wrist, wicked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Take those off,” he speaks, honestly more of a breathy inhale than a statement. Raising an eyebrow questioningly, you agree “okay. May I ask why?” Eddie just hums and smacks your ass with a quick swat, making you yelp.

“You’re going to sit on my face.”

#kinktober #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson is alive and well thank you very much #yes they slept in the van he did not drive drunk #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eeeeeeeee #okay time to pump out another 1k words and then i can go to bed #I should really have prepped these like a month before

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be-good-to-bugs · 7 days

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you would think considering how much it loves sleeping that my body would, yknow, sleep when i ask it to. or even just when it has barely slept in days and im trying so hard to sleep

#the bin #uugghhhh i woke up at 1pm today bc my stupid idiot body refused to go to sleep at a reasonable time even tho i was alreday so sleep #deprived. i have to work at 6:30 tomorrow morning :/ so i guess i wont be sleeping till then bc i still have to clean stuff and shower #maybe maybe maybe ill get a nap in but idk. bleh. i hope after i get home my stupid body will sleep. its gonna have to bc i work 7 hours the #next day so i cant do that too sleep deprived. i really really hope i dont have to :( hhhh #i wanted so bad to get high last night mosty bc my body has been refusing to sleep this past week but my sister n her boyfriend didnt come #over so i wasnt able to get more edibles :( or boxes for packing. hhh. i need to move so soon! i have no idea what day its even gonna be yet #i badeky have an idea of how much its gonna cost either. they finally gave me a gas cost estimate afeyr ive been asking for 3 weeks #hhh. well. whatever. i only have 4 more shifts. im kinda sad tbh. i really like working here. my coworkers are so nice #tomorrow is probs the last time ill ever see my fav coworker. shes so nice. shes so nice she used he/him for me and calls me orb #i just mentioned the name in passing once after i changed my pronouns on my nametag and she noticed and she remember!#and before she used it for me she stopped and asked if i was comfortable with it or if i wanted to keep it private. i have never EVER met #another cis person who would even think to ask that. most cis people dont understand why you would care. shes like. the nicest person ive #ever ever met. why did i have to find such a great place to work in minnesota? well. even if i am super tired tomorrow morning itll probably #be ok. butbi really would prefer not to be.#i dont know why i havent been able to sleep properly. bleh. i do liek what edibles do to me its a fun time but its kinda annoying that i #cant use them very casually for sleep or pain. they incapacitate me for 14 hours minimum.#well. at least no matter how stressed i am abt everything. i will definitely be elsewhere in 18 days max. should be less than that.#i will miss this job and these coworkers but i am relived that i wont have to go to work for awhile. esp with this tooth pain.#and im so excited to be able to draw again! im glad im moving a month before artfight bc itll give me time to get shit prepped #i wanted so bad to participate last year but i wasnt able to come evn close to finishing any attacks bc i was too tired from working

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year

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...

#we r caught back in the agony spiral yall. bc ive made no progress writing today bc its been a long week and im tired #and i cant focus. but i could probably. im just being a baby abt it #i should just go to sleep. ive gotta go do field work tomorrow and im kinda stressed abt it #or i should do something fun thwt will made me less miserable but i csnt do that. theres no timd #time. so i should sleep. but sleep is a waste of time and really i shoulf b writing #but im tired and my tummy hurt :-(#i hope tomorrow doesnt take long :-((#no sample collection pls 🙏#and ive got interview stuff to prep for. like thats a month away but i gotta convince ppl i understand photosynthesis #and its been a fucking minute since biochem :-(#ugh. im trying to make better decisions in this new year. less destructive decisions bc i have to convince ppl ive got my shit together #so ill get hired and also i dont wanna b an annoying bummer to exist around #still no joy for what i do tho. like i was working with a masters student last week and she was like oh yea it was fun #and im like *awkward pained smiled* bc it wasnt as bad as i thought but doing it for 2 weeks would kinda hurt s lot #so well see how much damage it does me #no joy. only tasks to do. things to accomplish. for what? why? who the fuck cares. not me #me. without feeling: it would b interesting to see if X and Y #interesting in a i don't gave a fuck sorta way. bleh. so bitter. burnout u never recover from #at least i feel better thsn i did in December. well see how long it takes to drive me under again.#its just weird to look back at the me of before who was excited abt things. i burned thr insides out of that person #but no tonight we r making better choices. no writing happening so we do something more fun #ugh. i just wanna think abt quantum l3ap. but no. other things to do. sigh... even in my fun time im not allowed too much fun :-(#unrelated

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notmyneighbor · 2 months

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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 7

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor mention of blood and gore, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You are walking the yard surrounding your home in early August.

Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger is beside you, his fingers laced with yours as the pair of you leisurely stroll. You love mornings like this. Lazy weekends when you shut the rest of the world out. There is just this, this safe haven you’ve created, away from the city where the invaders seek to gain entry and conquer, where the humans continue to try to see past the lies standing right before them, the deceivers and pretenders like the one whose hand you’re clutching now so tenderly. Except he isn’t like the others; nothing like any of them. He is yours, and you are his. There is nothing else like this phenomenon, what you have with him.

The blackberry bushes lining the picket fence are heavy with fruit, the plump, deep black specimens dull skinned, ripe and ready to be plucked.

“So many of them,” the copycat murmurs, halting beside you as your pace slows and pauses, contemplating the sight of those heavily laden shrubs.

You nod. “My grandparents used to make jam from them. I can remember spreading it on pancakes on Sunday mornings.”

“Do you still recall how to make the jam?”

“Yes. It’s not difficult. Just a bit time consuming. A lot of prep work.”

“We have the whole day. Want to try?”

“Really? You want to?”

“It sounds pleasant.” He tugs you gently towards him. “Everything with you is.” His lips meet yours, warm as the summer sun heating you through the button front dress you’re wearing.

“We need something to gather them in.”

“Will this do?” He reaches for the fabric of your dress about halfway down the skirt portion, lifting the loose material until it forms a kind of scooped makeshift basket.

“That’s what my grandmother did with her apron. Yes, this will do.” You reach for the handfuls he’s gathered, keeping the improvised bowl in place. “Only pick the ones that are black. No purple or red, they’re not ripe. Nothing shiny. Only the dull ones. They should come off fairly easily. If you have to pull too much, they’re not ready.”

The imposter milkman follows your directions and the dip in the fabric you’re clutching is soon full. It is a little awkward walking up the porch steps, balancing the unfamiliar weight at your front. There are stains on his fingers, on your dress as you dump the gathered berries into the colander he grabs from the cupboard for you, followed by a mixing bowl, anything he can find to relieve you of your burden. Overzealous in the picking, perhaps, but you don’t mind. The excessive berries would just have gone to waste otherwise, more than even your wildlife neighbors could indulge in.

“You should get used to having extra weight around your middle,” he murmurs against your ear. Still persisting in the notion of having a baby with you. The previous month had ended with your menses. You’ve no idea if it’s even possible to create a new life with the doppelgänger. You’re still conflicted about it. Afraid for its life, for yours and Francis’. But you can imagine the face. As a toddler. Convinced somehow it would be a boy. Identical in every way to his father. A father as devoted to him as he is to you. The child clinging to your side, standing in those same fields near the house in summer, looking at the world around him with those dark eyes that are unshadowed, not yet tired like his parent’s. Soft brown hair. Human, because you won’t let yourself imagine anything else; refuse to concede that it would be part doppel as well. “I can’t wait,” he says, his arms enfolding you from behind, your hands settling on his, the quartet all resting over your abdomen.

You smile, leaning your weight against his chest for a few moments before reaching for the faucet. It was time to rinse the harvest, removing the stray leaf or stem here and there. You fill a pan with water to boil to sterilize the lids of the mason jars. There are a set of them under the sink. The glass portion needs to be similarly treated. It will be hot in the kitchen with the stovetop working so hard. You lean and lift the window behind the sink a little higher, hoping for any sign of a breeze.

“Go pick out a record to play.” A new tradition. You let your lover choose the music, discovering what he likes best. Perhaps some of Francis’ favorites. Some for the invader alone. You cherish both selections equally.

The man and the doppel themselves; that is something your conscience has struggled with for many weeks now. You think you will always love Francis. But you love the new creature inhabiting his form, too. More and more with each passing day.

The music begins and you smile to yourself. Al Bowlly. Something from two decades ago, but a timeless classic. One of the records your mother had left behind when she’d moved to the city, inherited from your grandparents. You were long overdue for a visit to your mother and father. You’d received a letter not that long ago. Still safe. It was a worry that gnawed at you. One of the reasons you’d joined the DDD in the first place. Wanting to protect your family, the people you love.

The very thought of you and I forget to do

The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do

You spread a tea towel on the counter. The jars will air dry there after you’ve finished preparing them.

I'm living in a kind of daydream and I'm happy as a king

And foolish though it may seem, why to me that's everything

“How am I meant to not want to dance with you when this is playing?” Your partner’s lips graze the nape of your neck softly, his hands on your waist.

The mere idea of you, the longing here for you

You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you

You smile again. A gesture that comes so easily when the imposter is around you. “After. You wanted to make jam, remember?”

“I want to make a lot of things,” he murmurs beside your cheek, his nose nudging aside a stray piece of hair that’s come free from where you’d pinned it up, mouth now on the patch of skin he’s cleared.

“Francis!” You giggle, playfully squirming in his arms. You aren’t really trying to get away. “I need your help. Use those muscles of yours and pulverize the berries. The potato masher is in the second drawer there.”

I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above

It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love

He rolls up his sleeves, beginning to crush the fruit while you gather the measuring cups and sugar.

“I know it’s equal parts berries and sugar. Three minutes to boil? And then another three after the sugar’s been added. Oh, I need the whisk, too. And one of the larger spoons to stir. Yes, that one, thank you.” Francis’ copy hands you the culinary tools you’re searching for, retrieved from the same drawer the masher had been in.

Speaking of which, he’s done a great job with the blackberries, making short work of them. For a brief second your mind teases an imagining of something far less pleasant being ground down like that, pulped human flesh, the gore that is left behind when a doppel feasts on a human. Your grip on the spoon tightens until it’s white knuckled and you force yourself to relax. You’re with him, the one that you love, that adores you. Your home. With the beautiful crooned words of longing issuing from the turntable in the background. Those horrors do not exist here. “Those look perfect. I think that’s maybe around six cups’ worth. But we’ll measure.”

Your estimate of the mixture volume proves fairly accurate. You begin stirring the berries in the stainless steel cook pot, watching the seeded dark red mixture begin to bubble, keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The doppel is at the sink, already washing the used bowls and tools.

It’s time to add the sugar. You stir it in, once again timing your task, finally deeming the developing jam ready to be removed from the heat of the burner, switching the knob for the pilot light off as you move the pot to an unused burner.

You can feel the perspiration beading on your forehead as you whisk the heated fledgling fruit spread. Nearly there. Your strokes with the thin wired tool were releasing the natural pectin in the berries now. After that it was just a matter of filling and sealing the jars.

“What’s next? What can I do to help?” The doppelgänger asks, resting a hand on your lower back, where the heat lingers, making the dress cling damply to your skin.

“I think this is actually just about ready to start pouring.”

He turns over the mason jars that had been resting upside down over the tea towel to air dry, lining them up on the counter. You transfer small batches of the jam to a batter bowl, making it easier to fill each jar without spilling. A lot of dishes being used for this. Funny how you didn’t remember that part from childhood. Just the fun of making it with your grandmother.

The replicant screws the last of the lids on. The jam looks so inviting. You can’t wait to spread it on some toast with some butter after it’s had a day or two to set. Maybe just one day. You were really craving it now.

“It’s hot,” the imposter says, dragging a hand across his forehead. “I’m ready to head back into the tub after that.”

You like the idea of that yourself. “You should.”

“Coming with me?”

“I was hoping for an invitation.”

He kisses you and you taste the salt of his perspiration. “You look a little flushed. We definitely need to go cool down. And then heat up again.”

“Francis, you’re impossible. Go get the water running. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

“It’ll be faster with both of us working together.”

You won’t argue with that, allowing him to assist you. Munching on some leftover blackberries as you work side by side. The last of the dishes done. Everything put away. Shutting off the record player on your way to the stairs. His hands work on the buttons of your dress after you’ve turned on the faucet to fill the tub. You loosen his belt. Shove the hem of his undershirt upward after he’s removed the outer layer. He reaches between his shoulders and pulls it free. You kiss the dip between his pectoral muscles lightly covered with dark hair. Suddenly finding yourself hungry for him.

“Should we wait on the bath for after?” he suggests.

“Yes. Definitely.” You switch the faucet off hurriedly, turning your attention back to him. He’s already entering the bedroom. The temperature in this room is hotter than it had been in the kitchen. No fresh breeze coming in through either of the windows. Just that stifling humidity. It needed to rain.

Undergarments removed. He kisses your bare shoulder, humming the song that had been playing the previous evening, when he’d met you at your front door, the start of your weekend together.

Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

You sit down on the edge of the bed. A hand rests on your thigh as he kneels down. Fingers stained from some of the berry juice, garnet and magenta smudges along cuticles and nail beds. Your hand sinks into the hair you’d trimmed recently, finding it’s already growing long again. You bend to kiss his mouth and he tastes like the fruit, like summer itself, warm and fresh and sweet.

He leans to kiss the breasts that will one day bear the nutrition to feed your child, if it was ever meant to be, sucking gently, each nipple responding to that sensation, rising and hardening, the melody of that love song still emerging all the while.

Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

Then he is between your thighs, every kiss still languid, drowsy, a leisurely summer afternoon gifted in each touch of his lips on your skin. Caressing your legs, the limbs that part to receive him. Gentle kisses on those nether lips, still humming, sending little vibrations into your body.

And then there suddenly appeared before me

The only one my arms will ever hold

I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me"

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

His tongue strokes your clit and you lean back slightly, hands sinking into the mattress, arms braced to either side. His hands curl around your thighs and he sups at your sex, the pace still unhurried, easing you along into pleasure. Delving into your entrance, rolling the taste of you on his tongue before sweeping through the petals back to your bud, massaging it from side to side, up and down, pausing every now and again to plant a kiss on your mound or thigh, suckling the bundle of nerve endings and then dipping back into your canal in short, gentle little thrusts, the tune nearing its end, reaching the final verses, but yours have just started, that thrumming he sends through you, deep inside, an echoing response in your core.

Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

You let your weight rest on one hand so you can touch his hair again, meet the gaze of those dark eyes watching you, those depthless pools of desire you get lost in, drowning, a tide that washes you away into your release against his mouth.

You're sweating profusely now, damp inside and out as you scoot yourself back to the center of the bed, making room for your companion to join you.

There is always the little surprised sounding moan when he first enters you, as if he’s forgotten that feeling, rediscovering it each time his cock pierces your pussy. His hips roll against you in slow, lazy thrusts. He combs your damp hair back from your face, hair that has completely fallen loose, natural. He kisses your forehead and cheeks and lips, your jaw and throat and ear lobes.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck. His voice sounds raw, full of emotion.

“I love you, Francis.” You grind up against his damp body.

His face hovers above yours. “Marry me.” You gasp as he grabs one of your thighs and rocks forward, pushing deep inside of you. “Marry me, be my wife. Stay with me always.”

Your heart pounds. To be joined with him like that. The mark on your arm only a faint pink line now. The traces of the bite completely disappeared. He wanted to put a ring on your finger. Everyone would know, then. There would be no concealing it.

“Be the mother of my children. Be mine forever.”

“Francis…”

“Please.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you add softly.

A heavy sigh as his body moves against yours, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “My love, my only, mine.” His pelvis knocks against yours faster now. Your knees tightly embrace his ribs. Every part of skin your lips touch taste of salt. His hair is darker, saturated with sweat, the tendrils clinging damply to his forehead. A drop slides from his nose and pools between your lips. The arms bracing his weight near your face are trembling. So close to the edge of bliss.

“Love,” he gasps.

“Yes,” you answer, and he spills into you, filling your womb with his seed.

***

You sit inside the bathtub between the doppel’s legs, resting back against his chest.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and you obey, hearing something being lifted from that basin of water. The wash cloth, you realize, feeling the cool liquid dripping onto you hair, sliding down over your heated face. Repeating until your hair is thoroughly drenched in the bath water, his fingers slicking back those wet tresses, smoothing over your eyes, your cheeks, curling beneath your chin and lifting your face so that he can kiss you. Your eyes open and you see him smiling. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good.” A rumble of thunder in the distance. Finally, the rain was coming. “Will we lose the power again, do you think?”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t be so terrible, though, would it? Just being here in the dark together.”

“Not at all. I have fond memories of doing that very thing.” He kisses you again and your stroke the damp cloth over his forearms. “I am going to get you a ring, you know. Propose properly.”

“I know.” You lift his left hand and kiss it. “We should tell my parents. Visit.”

“You want me to meet them?”

“Why not? They’ll be your in laws. The grandparents of your children.”

“Hmmm,” he hums. “We will need someone to watch the little ones. When it’s time to make more…”

“How many are you planning on?”

“I don’t know. There’s no specific number. I just want it. Badly.”

“I know you do. I do, too.”

“You’re still scared.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t let anyone harm you. You, or the children. However many there are.”

“I know you’ll be a good father. A good husband.”

His arms tighten around you. “You are my perfect everything.”

***

You do not lose the power that evening.

There is light for your repast at the kitchen table. Still too soon to indulge in the fruits of your earlier labors—pun intended—and neither of you want to heat up the house again using the stove, so you have a simple meal of bread, cheese, grapes, and iced tea, listening to the storm outside, this one much calmer than the last, starting to write a letter back to your parents, beginning with the exciting news of your engagement.

“Do you think your parents will like me?”

You pop a few grapes into your mouth. “Yes. My mom is very similar in personality to me. My dad maybe a little gruffer, but he’ll soften with time. Especially when he sees how well you treat me. He’d probably like it if you asked his permission first. Just as a courtesy. A formality.”

Francis’ copy slices another piece of cheddar free from the block, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “What are you going to tell them about us, exactly?”

“Just that we met while I was working. You’re a resident in the building. The truth, you know.”

“But that’s not the whole story.”

You set your pen down. “I can’t tell them what you are. You know that.”

“Of course not. I’m just…wondering what to say. Or what not to say. How to behave.”

You lift the writing utensil again but don’t use it, merely holding it between your fingers. “Just be you.”

He looks over the top of his glass as you resume writing, neat cursive script filling the page. “Don’t forget to mention how handsome I am.”

“Hush, you.” You smirk, tossing one of the crumpled rough drafts at him and he easily catches it, returning your smile.

“And that I’m a good dancer.”

“You are a great dancer,” you concede, pausing again to tear off another piece of bread.

“We didn’t get to dance earlier.”

“We sort of did.”

His eyebrows lift. “I’ve corrupted you. That’s the sort of innuendo I’d deliver.”

“Speaking of which. No talking about wanting kids when we visit with my parents, at least not yet. They’re against premarital sex. Society doesn’t favor unwed women and it certainly doesn’t favor women who are unwed and pregnant. It’s because of the war. The need to repopulate, our purpose to create more soldiers.”

“We’re engaged, though.”

“Yes. But still not married.”

“I don’t want our children fighting in a war,” he says solemnly.

“Neither do I.” You pause, hesitating midway through writing again. “We are at war already. They’ll be born into it, just by the very nature of who they are. What they are.” You sigh, setting down the pen. The letter could wait for now. You don’t like the dark look on the features of the replicant sitting across from you.

“Come on. I owe you a dance.” You rise, reaching for the doppel’s hands and he allows himself to be tugged to his feet. “Go choose a record for us, my love.”

You clear the table while he rummages through the sleeved recordings. You leave the letter where it is. You’ll finish it in the morning, drop it off on your way to work Monday. At least there was one more day of this relaxed comfort, before you had to go back to the reality of the DDD.

You join your fiancé in the living room, positioning yourself with your dance partner, smiling as you recognize the song that starts to play.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek

“Fred Astaire, singing to Ginger Rogers. Another classic. This song was from the musical Top Hat. A big hit on the music charts.”

The doppel is silent, his hand warm against your waist, the other clasping your hand as you step and sway in a small circle.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And the cares that hung around me through the week

Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek

“My mom loves that movie. You’ll curry some favor if you mention it. We’ll have to watch it together. The movie house downtown plays classics on Sunday nights. I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Two more verses of the song have already passed by.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We should go. I’ll take you.”

“A real date.”

“Yes, a real date.”

You grin, nuzzling his jaw. “I look forward to it.”

Dance with me. I want my arms about you

The charms about you

Will carry me through to

“I like making you happy.” He draws back to look at your features. “I want your parents to like me. I know it’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”

“They’ll love you,” you say softly. “How could they possibly not?”

“Because…”

“No.” You release his shoulder, resting a finger against his lips. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all that matters. I love you. You, inside of this man.” Your hand cups his cheek. “I’ve been calling you Francis all along. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s…not something you could ever pronounce. The differences in language…”

“I’ll do my best to learn.”

“Sweetheart. Call me Francis. That’s who I am now. Your Francis. Yours.” He kisses you, and you become lost in the feel of it, in the sound of the needle of the record player tapping restlessly now that the song has finished, in the lullaby of the soft patter of the rain outside.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #the milkman

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kingv-theruler · 1 year

Text

#I really don’t know how to prepare someone to not see you anymore #I have zero drive or motivation to keep going #like I’m prepping for my goodbyes but I don’t know how to say it without giving it away #I have all my notes written but what should I do with them?#i really don’t want to leave my nieces behind and I hope one day when they’re adults they can forgive me #but I truly think me being gone is what’s best #not everyone gets a happy ending #I’ve made my peace with my fate long ago.#at least I stayed alive longer than I intended #idk if that’s a good thing or not any more #I tried #hopefully I go before the day I intend on leaving #natural causes sounds so much better but I don’t want to suffer another month or year with trying and failing #I’m tired of staying alive for other people #it’s torture #and I should’ve offed myself long ago #and I hate that I didn’t when I wanted because now I faced more reasons to go #I hope one day I get forgiven #I just couldn’t do it anymore #I really am sorry #I hope me being open about this saves someone #even if it doesn’t save me

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twizzie-lairs · 3 months

Text

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

Text

matching injuries, matching fits

part 2 of acl tear #2 acl couple #4

surgery day for reader!

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it's that the surgery was outpatient. You hated hospitals, so at least you wouldn't be stuck in one for any longer than necessary.

Accompanying Leah for her surgery just a few months ago didn't help settle your nerves. You remembered more than she did how much pain she'd been in, and it scared the hell out of you. Leah had handled her surgery so well though; she never complained. She was frustrated, sure, but Leah was good at handling pain.

Your relationship was so new, and you didn't want to seem like a baby, so you tried to hide how nervous you were going into it. Apparently you weren't doing a very good job.

"Are you nervous, darling?" Leah asked, looking over at you from the driver's seat. You just shrugged in response, continuing to bounce your good knee up and down rapidly. She reached across the center console, intertwining her fingers with yours. You sent her a weak smile, and she returned it, much more enthusiastically. You remained silent all the way to the hospital, and through the prep. Leah was growing more concerned, watching you grow paler and paler as the clock ticked by. You were so in your head, she could practically hear you thinking.

"Hey, love," she said, gaining your attention. "It's gonna be fine, okay? They do this every day, and I'm gonna be right here when you come out, alright?"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry," you said, blinking back tears. She stood from the chair she was sitting in, walking over to the bed you were laying in. She leaned down, blonde hair falling into your face, wrapping you in a tight hug, as best she could from her position. You hugged her back tightly, burying your face in her sweatshirt, the feel of it on your face making you feel better.

Leah had come home yesterday with a new matching pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt for you, calling it your "comfy surgery outfit." You'd teased her for it, but appreciated her thoughtfulness. You'd really teased her this morning when she appeared out of the closet wearing the exact same outfit. Leah was adamant that matching with her would make you feel better.

Leah stayed hugging you for longer than was probably comfortable, before pulling back, hearing the nurses come into the room. You looked up at her nervously, realizing it was time. She gave you an encouraging smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then your lips, before whispering an I love you against your mouth. You really smiled up at her then, whispering the words back. Leah watched as they wheeled you off, more nervous than she'd been for her own surgery.

-----

When you blinked awake, the bright lights of the room immediately assaulted your eyes, and you closed them again, sleepier than you'd ever been in your life.

"Hey baby," a voice whispered from right next to you. Cracking one eye open, you saw Leah looking at you, sitting in a chair next to the bed, holding your hand tightly in hers.

"Leee" you said happily, puckering your lips for a kiss. Leah. Man you loved her. She was so pretty, so perfect.

"Hi love," she said, laughing, before kissing you sweetly. "How are you feeling?"

"So good. They gave me a whole new knee!" You said, grinning. Leah laughed again, quite amused at your state. Suddenly though, the smile dropped from your lips, and you looked at her critically.

"Leah," you started seriously, although you were still slurring your words slightly, "you should get bangs."

Leah burst out laughing, not expecting that at all. Her laughter was cut short, though, when you looked at her in horror, your face flushing red. She watched, as if you were in slow motion, as your bottom lip jutted out, and your eyes filled with tears, like a cartoon character. She'd laughed at you!

"No, baby," she tried, but you were already crying. She was having to work even harder not to laugh at how fast your mood had changed, as you cried into your hands. "Don't cry, I thought you were kidding,"

"No! You hate my idea," you wailed, and Leah's hands fluttered uselessly over you, trying to figure out how to stop your tears.

"Woah, what'd you do, break up with her?" came a voice from the doorway, and Leah turned to see Viv and Beth walking in, looking amused. Leah scowled, but turned her attention back to you.

"I'll get bangs if you want, my girl, anything you want," she said, pleading with you. Your tears stopped comically fast.

"Really?" you asked hopefully.

"Yes, baby, seriously," Leah replied, fully convinced you'd laugh at the idea with her when you weren't high anymore.

"Bangs?" Beth asked, as her and Viv took seats on the other side of your bed, looking at Leah with a smirk.

"Wouldn't she look so good with them?!" you replied, staring intently at your teammates. Viv's poker face was much better than Beth's, and Leah glared at the blonde, not wanting you to start crying again. Viv elbowed Beth.

'Yes, so good! She'd really rock a fringe." Beth said enthusiastically, and you smiled, not aware you were being teased. Now Leah was glaring for a different reason, but at least you seemed content. You all chatted for a little while longer, until you got the go ahead from the doctor to leave.

Leah got you changed back into your matching outfit, and when Beth and Viv reentered the room, they were once again fighting fits of laughter.

"Leah picked them out, she wanted to match," you told them, and Leah blushed furiously, having not thought ahead to your friends seeing your matching outfits.

"That red really brings out the color in your cheeks Williamson," Viv joked, referencing Leah's deep blush, and the crimson clothes she had on, because what color was Leah going to get you guys, blue?

Grumbling slightly, Leah helped you into the wheelchair, and the four of you set off to the car. Beth and Viv helped get you in, before they headed to their own car, promising to stop by with dinner later. Leah gave them both hugs before getting in the car, quietly thanking them for their support.

Since they'd found out about your guys' relationship Beth and Viv had been interested to watch the change they'd noticed in Leah. She was normally a serious person, but she was serious with you in a different way. She looked at you so intensely, and they didn't know how'd they'd missed that the 2 of you were together; the look on her face when her gaze met yours was one of someone fiercely in love. Leah wasn't normally one to express her thanks in such a forward, vocal way, but when it came to you, it seemed like all bets were off. They smiled to themselves as they walked back to the car, watching out of the corner of their eyes as Leah fussed over your seatbelt.

-----

Leah got you home and into bed with little drama, and no more tears. You were sleepy again, and she made sure you were asleep comfortably before heading downstairs to obsess over the post op instructions she'd gotten. Even though they were the same as hers, and she probably could have written them, she still read every page, back to front, not willing to risk anything.

When she went to check on you around 45 minutes later, bringing with her an ice pack to replace the one that would be warm by now, she found you in a decidedly less comfortable, and less happy, state than she'd left you. You were still laying in bed, but your face was screwed up in pain, and there were tears leaking out of your eyes. You were staring at your knee, which was propped up in front of you, glaring at it. Leah hadn't been expecting the pain to hit so soon, but clearly, it was.

"Oh, baby, why didn't you call for me?" she asked, having left you with strict instructions to tell her when you woke up. She sat on the edge of the bed, using her sleeve to gently wipe the tears off your face.

"Didn't wanna bother you," you mumbled, and Leah looked at you, confused. You seemed more out of it than you had been before, and she figured you were just still loopy.

"You could never bother me, pretty girl," Leah said, watching as your lips turned up into a watery smile. "You can't have anymore pain medicine yet, but I can brought you some ice," she said, carefully unwrapping the ice wrap from around your knee and replacing it.

"Thanks," you said softly, still looking slightly teary.

"What else can I do, love?" She asked, hating to see you so upset.

You thought for a moment, eyes fluttering open and shut as you fought sleep again. "Hold me Lee?" you asked quietly. Leah recognized the vulnerability in your voice, and nodded softly. She climbed into bed next to you, ever so carefully, shifting to allow you to lean back against her. You settled your head on her shoulder, tucking your nose into her neck.

"Goodnight," you said drowsily, snuggling closer to the blonde. She smiled down at you, not thinking it important to let you know that it only mid afternoon.

"Goodnight, baby," she responded, kissing the side of your head gently.

You drifted off, the pain in your knee somehow dulled by the beautiful girl next to you.

-----

part 3? if yes please give me ideas

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #beth mead #vivianne miedema

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nisuna · 6 months

Note

thinking about Touji and Megumi fucking Megumi's stepsister together

So much Stepcest 😳 I'm not complaining tho keep it comin' guys I'm digging it 🤤

Thank you for your take!!<3

<3masterlist<3

~short drabble~

TW: stepcest; use of daddy, good girl, Megumi-Nii sweetheart; oral (m receiving), spitroasting, deep throating , face fucking, gagging, vaginal sex, Toji and Megumi bicker a bit

"Open wide for daddy. That's it. Good girl."

Megumi visibly cringed at his father calling himself daddy while shoving his dick down his step daughters throat.

"Oh don't be so stiff. I am her father after all and she gets off on that, don't you, sweetheart?"

All you could do was nod, not having much room to move or talk while Toji had an iron grip on your hair. You didn't mean for all of this to happen, all of this meaning Megumi walking in on his pretty little stepsister getting her brains fucked out one day.

"C'mon make yourself useful and get her off. I'm kind of busy right now." A particularly hard thrust making you gag while your nose touched his dark pubes. "Can't believe you're really my son."

"Shut up."

Megumi was nervous, but he would lie if he said he didn't get excited the first time he met you a few months ago. He would lie if he said he didn't think of you at night when he couldn't sleep because his dick hurt so bad, due to a small interaction he had with you. But seeing you like this, skirt pulled up tits spilling out your top and his fathers cock down your throat, he just couldn't move.

"Tch." Toji pulled you off his cock, making you cough and suck in deep breaths. Loosening his grip on your hair he softly patted it and crouched down to where you currently were kneeling on the floor. "Sweetheart?" You looked up, eyes blown wide from arousal. "Want your big brother to make you feel good?" "Yes please, daddy." "You gotta tell him, that good for nothing won't do anything on his own."

You turned around at that crawling over to where Megumi was standing. "Please Megumi-Nii, want you to make me feel good. Don't you want to fuck me too. Need it so bad.", you blinked up at him and he finally swallowed the lump in his throat and went to unbuckle his belt. You smiled at that, turning around and sticking your plump ass out. As he knelt down behind of you he asked, "want me to prep you? Don't want it to hurt."

"No need, she's used to big ones.", Toji interrupted as he grinned. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."

You obeyed immediately turning your attention back to your stepfather already opening your mouth.

"Good girl. I've taught you well."

As soon as Toji wrapped your hair around his hand again you felt something prod at your entrance, making you hum. And before you knew it both men pressed into you with loud grunts to which you whimpered.

"Are you okay? Can I move?" Before you could answer Toji answered for you, "Just fuck her already goddamn it."

And fucked you he did. If getting your mouth fucked wasn't stimulating enough already, getting your pussy stuffed at the same time definitely was.

"Shit she's so tight."

"I know right, her pussy's the best. You should thank me for letting you use it."

Them talking about you like you weren't there made you clench around Megumi and suck Toji deeper into your mouth.

"Shit you get off on getting used? Gonna cum on my cock, pretty?"

"Gotta rub her clit. She won't cum from you sticking your dick in her. You sure you're not a virgin?"

Toji's comment made Megumi glare at him, but he finally did start rubbing your clit sending you into overdrive. They were fucking you at different speeds basically shoving you around on their dicks like a ragdoll. Your moans got louder with each passing minute of getting stuffed full of cock in both ends.

"That's it she's about to cum. You better not stop now."

Megumi would be stupid to stop right now, he desperately wanted to feel you cum on his cock. He's sure that will push him over the edge as well. As his ministrations went on, you felt the knot in your stomach unravel and with a muffled scream you felt yourself cream on your step brothers cock. Both men soon followed after stuffing their cocks as deep as possible and spilling inside your waiting cunt and mouth. After swallowing it all Toji pulled you off his dick, you felt fuzzy after finally being able to breathe again. Megumi pulling out made you squirm and you felt his seed drip down your inner thigh.

"Go clean her off. I got things to do." With that Toji left both of you in your bedroom.

After cussing out his father under his breath Megumi pulled you into an embrace, patting your head. You visibly relaxed in his hold sighing contently. "Are you okay? Did you like it" You hummed at his question nodding your head. "I loved it."

With your new found love for your brother and father who knows what the future has in store for you three!

------

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

#takes with nini♡#megumi fushiguro smut #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk stepcest #tw stepcest #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

Fic idea : reader meeting leah’s family and they all love her, then she’s always invited for family game nights and leah is jealous bc reader always wins but they’re never on the same team and you know how competitive leah is 😂

sore loser II l.williamson

"babe. would you want to come with me on tuesday?" leah asked suddenly as the two of you were sat together on the lounge watching tv at her place one night. "like, to your grandmas?" you asked in surprise, having met leahs mum and brother but not the rest of her family just yet.

"yeah. she's been asking about you ever since mum let it slip i was seeing someone, and i'd love for you to finally meet holly and ben." leah smiled at the thought, not a single doubt in her mind that the rest of her family would adore you as much as she did.

"only if you're ready though! there isn't a rush." leah quickly added, squeezing your leg with a reassuring nod as you took a second to think.

"i'd love to lee. but are you sure they won't mind? i know the tuesdays mean a lot to your family." you asked curiously, leah and her cousins always spending every tuesday night at her grandparents house since long before the two of you had started seeing each other.

"of course not gorgeous, and you are family." leah stated sweetly making your heart melt as you pecked her lips with a shy smile. the two of you had been seeing one another for around four months now, though had really only been official for about two.

"then tuesday sounds wonderful my love."

"-and you're sure i don't need to bring anything. and this is okay?" you stressed, gesturing to what you were wearing as an amused leah lay down watching you from your bed, having arrived about an hour ago to help you get ready knowing you were quite nervous.

"yes i promise you don't need to take anything. and you look perfect, as always. same thing i said to the last outfit, and the outfit before that." leahs lips curled into a smile as you nodded, turning back to the mirror and tugging at your top with a small frown.

"hey." leah suddenly appeared behind you, grabbing your hands in hers and gently pulling them away. "you look beautiful my girl. my family are going to love you, same as mum and jacob already do! they can see how happy you make me, hollys always winding me up for smiling at my phone whenever you message. should have heard how she carried on when you didn't come to ibiza! she's been hanging to meet you baby." leah assured firmly, hand softly grabbing your chin, nudging your head up so she could press a soft kiss to your lips.

"ready to go?" she asked as you gave yourself a once over and nodded, taking a deep breath. "good girl, come on then." leah let you go, grabbing her keys off your desk and holding out her hand, wiggling her fingers impatiently as your cheeks flushed red at her praise.

"hello family!" leah sang out as she let herself into her grandmas, closing the door behind you and grabbing your hand again, sending you a smile and kissing your cheek before tugging you along with her toward the sound of laughter and chatter coming from the living room.

a loud cheer sounded as the two of you entered, and all of a sudden you found yourself being passed from person to person, leah introducing you as you were pulled into a hug and then tugged away into another by one of her relatives.

eventually you'd made your rounds and were sat down beside leah and holly on the sofa, laughing away as her uncle shared stories of what leah and her cousins were like growing up. "so lee, did you prep her for how much of a sore loser you always are?" holly smirked, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

"sore loser?" you asked with a confused smile, leah rolling her eyes. "yeah its game night! she didn't tell you? oh leah, not even giving her time to prepare? thats just downright sneaky mate!" holly tutted with a shake of her head as you raised an eyebrow at the other blonde.

"i didn't want to overwhelm her! you lot are already too much." leah defended her actions as you joined holly shaking your head at her. "i'm already used to her being a sore loser, we've played monopoly once...i won and we've not touched it since." you teased as leahs mouth opened in offence and holly let out a loud peal of laughter.

"right, i'm claiming her as my partner. you can have ben!" your girlfriends cousin grinned as her grandma yelled dinner was ready, cutting off leah as she started to protest.

holly grabbed your hand and dragged you to sit beside her, leah pouting at you from the end of the table as you mouthed an apology, pulled into a conversation with her aunt who sat at your other side.

"-four letters!" holly yelled and you nodded, continuing with your silent gestures as leahs family all yelled and jeered, sledging one another playfully as the night went on.

you'd all already played twister, cluedo and blackjack, and you and holly were on a hot winning streak as a power duo, and leah was not coping well with it.

"movie!" you nodded again, switching up what you were trying to act out. "musical?" holly guessed and you nodded happily, her brother yelling out you had another thirty seconds.

a few guesses later and it was right down to the wire, you and holly were currently tied with ben and leah and you needed holly to guess this for you to walk away with winning yet another game.

the timer sounded right as hollys eyes widened. "cats!" she screamed out and you cheered, turning around the card with a grin, everyone else letting out claps of congratulations, well almost everyone.

"nah nah nah!" leah stood with a shake of her head, scowl plastered on her face as you and holly jumped around hugging each other. "she guessed after the timer. doesn't count!" leah announced firmly, walking over to the whiteboard and rubbing off the win with a stern shake of her head, holly booing her.

"leah love its a game, sit down." her grandma smiled as leah continued to kick off, going as far as to pull out the rules and read them out with a grumpy frown. you knew your girlfriend was a bad loser, and you honestly found this amusing more than anything else.

"right then, tiebreaker?" you called out with a raised eyebrow, leah halting her yelling for a moment as her brother and ben ooohed causing her to flick them a filthy glare. "fine. jenga!" leah decided, disappearing as you smiled shaking your head, everyone moving to clear the table.

you walked out of the room in search of your favourite blonde, finding her grabbing a glass of water. "hi loser-oh sorry, love!" you teased, the look sent your way absolutely withering. "cute." leah replied curtly, refusing to hug you as you wrapped yourself round her taller form.

"when i win are you going to be moody the whole drive home?" you smiled smugly, leah trying to pull your arms off as you held on tight. "you're insufferable." leah huffed, giving up and dropping her arms by her side.

"come on baby, give me a kiss good luck." you cooed, letting her go and tapping your lips. "no, get off." leah refused with a blank stare, shouldering past you as you followed after with a grin, sending holly a wink as you joined her, jenga already set up.

once again, it came right down to the wire, the stack now dangerously unstable as leah took a deep breath, surveying which one she was going to take.

"while we're young lee." you faked a yawn, the blonde sending you a glare as you only grinned, even ben chuckling at leahs expense despite being her partner.

the rest of her family had disappeared to the kitchen for tea and desert, only leahs brother jacob hanging around to watch the aftermath of what had been an incredibly tense game.

with baited breath leah made her choice, gently starting to wiggle out the block. "looking a bit unstable there, nobody breathe or else she might kick off!" you teased, holly clutching at you with an overdramatic gasp as leah flipped you both off without looking away from the tower.

you were certain she didn't breathe until she'd dropped the block on top, the tower wobbling for a moment but not falling. "ha, boom!" leah whooped loudly pumping her fist with a smirk sent your way.

you rolled your eyes at her cockiness, the blonde watching you with an arrogant smile, arms folded over her chest and jaw clenched, you hated how attractive you found it honestly.

ignoring leahs ongoing sledging you surveyed the tower, finally selecting a piece and carefully beginning to wiggle it out, holding your breath with each passing moment, making sure to take your time.

eventually it came free, your entire body unclenching as you gingerly placed it on top. you grinned and gave holly a high five, though the smiles were wiped off your faces as suddenly the tower came tumbling down, blocks crashing to the floor as leah cheered.

what she failed to notice was you seeing her foot quickly dart back from where the blonde had subtly kicked the corner of the table, leah grinning as she assumed she'd gotten away with it.

you chose not to mention it, accepting her teasing with a roll of your eyes, the two of you making your rounds saying bye as leah had training early tomorrow and the night was ticking on.

though once you'd gotten to the safety of leahs car, you sent her a very pointed glare. "you are such a fucking cheat." you accused, smacking her hand away as she tried to rest it on your thigh.

"don't know what you mean my girl, don't be a sore loser now." leah smirked and you huffed, ignoring her for the rest of the drive home much to leahs amusement.

"oh come here. stop being a baby!" leah laughed as she tried to pull you in for a cuddle and you shoved her off, you have successfully ignored her every attempt at engaging with you as the two of you arrived back to your flat and got ready for bed.

"admit you kicked that table over." you warned, the two of you laying practically nose to nose in bed as her cold hands slid up your jumper. "so what if i did? what are you gonna do about it hm?" leah smirked, lips ghosting yours.

"nothing? thats what i thought." leah leant in intending to kiss you as once again you shoved her away, flopping over onto your other side. within a few seconds your girlfriend had climbed on top of you, legs straddling your hips and hand clasping your cheek, forcing you to look up at her.

"you are such a sore loser." you glared up at her, only further annoyed at how good she looked as she gave you that stupid cocky grin of hers.

"maybe. how about i make it up to you then baby girl?" leah all but purred, rocking her hips on top of you and tilting her head with a smirk as a hot flush started to creep up your neck. "and how are you going to do that?" you challenged as she kissed your jaw.

"oh i have a few ideas."

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #engwnt #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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just-some-trans-nobody · 5 months

Text

December Christmas Monstet stories

December 8.) Horny Krampus

Sorry everyone this one was supposed to br way longer than this but I'm having really bad writers block. I might try to rewrite it eventually I just had to finish what little I had if I want stick to the schedule.

Warnings: NSFW, spit as lube, bare minimum prep, swearing, possessive behavior, stalking behavior

Minors Don't Interact!

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Three weeks.

You only got three weeks a year with him and then you had to wait longing for his touch until next year.

It was like clock work. December 1st at midnight the sound of heavy hooves landing on your roof waking you. The last two years you would wake up a minute or two before the stroke of midnight in anticipation of his arrival.

Giddier than a kid on Christmas day you threw the blankets off yourself and rushed to the living room. Some years he came down the chimney, sometimes the window. He always kept you on your toes never fully knowing where he was going to enter. You weren't sure how a man of such a large size could fit down a chimney but your brain always turned off when he was around. Too dick whipped to think about anything but him and the pleasure he gave you.

Hearing his low growl rumble from behind you, your body trembled in response. He had come through your bedroom window expecting you to be there. Seeing you weren't there made him mad, he wanted his cock in you immediately. Having to wait irritated him. Turning you smiled at him before letting out a gasp when he grabbed you pushing you against the nearest wall. “Fuck.” You moaned out, leaning your head back. He let out a low rumble hearing your moan. The sounds you make when he's with you calmed his raging soul, if only a little bit. Seeing that you were still dressed he growled before ripping off your clothes. His clawed hands tearing your clothes to shreds. You know you should be mad about it but the act had only served to turn you on even more.

Heart pounding in your chest you reached out to hold onto him as he lifted you up pinning you to the wall with one hand. Your legs dangled, unable to reach the floor by a good foot or two. He effortlessly freed his cock from its restraints with his free hand. Lifting a leg up you rested it on his hip spreading your legs for the large man.

Biting your bottom lip you trembled at his touch as he held your chin. “Open.” He growled in a low voice that rumbled in your chest. Obediently you opened your mouth, lightly sticking your tongue out. His fingers immediately slide into your mouth causing you to close it around them. He hardly ever took the time to lube you up first so this felt special for you. Keeping eye contact with him you made sure to lube up his fingers with your saliva as much as you could before he finally pulled them out of your mouth leaving a trail of saliva from his fingers to your plump lips. The trail broke after a second landing on your chin causing him to let out a low rumble at the sight.

Lowering his hand to your entrance he pushed the lubed up fingers inside of you causing you to moan. He wanted to take you so much it hurt but he knew you haven't had him in such a long time you would need to be stretched out first. By the end of the month he would be able to slip it in without reliance, but that was then and this was now. He would never admit it to himself or anyone else that he cared deeply about you to the point it scared him. As much as he loved making you scream out in painful pleasure he didn't want to hurt you so badly he scared you off. He needed you more than he realized.

Hearing you moan from just his fingers made him smirk in pride. He loved hearing how well he pleasured you, he wanted to hear more. Spreading his fingers wide he continued to pump them into you faster drawing out more moans from your lips. “O-oh oh fuck keep going! Gonna cum!” You moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. Your words encouraging him to pump his fingers harder. Reaching your orgasm with a cry you clung to his arms closing his eyes.

You barely had a moment to come down from your orgasm when he slid his fingers out and replaced them with the tip of his cock. Gasping you opened your eyes to be met with his hungry gaze. Letting out a quiet moan you rolled your hips against his taking in more of his cock. He let out a low moan feeling his cock go deeper into you. It drove him mad. Growling he snapped his hips forward pushing all of his cock into you causing you to sob lightly. It stung but felt good at the same time. Whimpering softly you clung to him as tears welled in your eyes. He waited for a moment letting you adjust for a moment before he started to slowly rock his hips. Once your face started showing more pleasure than pain he sped his pace up thrusting faster into you. Pressing against you harder he pushed you against the wall even more making you feel a little squished. “Harder.” You moaned scratching at his arms. It was a request he was more than happy to comply with.

The room was filled with the sounds of your needy moans and the relentless thrusts of Krampus. It was utter bliss being with him. December was by far your favorite time of the year and Christmas had nothing to do with it.

#monster #monster fucker #monster stories #monster smut #december christmas monster stories #krampus x reader #fluffy monster #monster x male #monster x female #monster x human #monster x girl #monster x reader

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carmenberzattosgf · 4 months

Note

u know what i think about ALL THE TIME… carmy being like, REALLY pissed off and truly at the end of his rope while you’re one of his staff members. you guys have been friends for a while with some simmering tension building between you two, but it’s never been fully explored.

the two of you have been fighting all day and it reaches a boiling point where he all but drags you outside (presumably to scream at you some more), but INSTEAD he grabs the back of your neck and bends you over face-first onto some empty pallets behind the restaurant. “you don’t want this, then get up and walk away.” and you’d be mouth open gasping, but STAYING THERE cuz you’re tryna see what happens. after a beat of silence, he pulls your pants down and roughly fucks you right then and there. he’d still be angry, with some terse kind of “you still want to keep running your fucking mouth?” punctuated by sharp, deep thrusts that make you clench your teeth together to avoid screaming 😍🤸 and you’d have to walk back inside on shaking legs a few minutes later trying to pretend that carmy’s cum isn’t dripping down your thighs💕💕

anyway that’s all JDHSKDJSKSK

ANON????? OH MY GOD?????? IM FREAKING OUT OVER THIS??? Like you just put a whole blurb in my ask box I am so honored and flattered???? Expansion on this under the cut!!

Dude dude dude. Yes. So you’ve been working at the bear for a few months now. It’s been months of built up tension between you and Carmy. Carmy knows, and you know it’s more than just a simple friendship between the two of you.

Carmy tries to keep it professional. He really tries. But, his attempts make him more cold and blunt towards you, which culminates in the big fight. It’s over something stupid really, but he gets so fucking pissed because it’s been one thing after another this day. He flips out over you not having a “properly cleaned station”.

“Chef. How many fucking times do I have to tell you to clean up your goddamn station? Look at this shit. It’s a mess.” He yells, pointing to your station.

“Are you being serious right now? I’m in the middle of fucking prep. How the hell am I suppose to keep it clean during prep when I haven’t finished yet-“

Carmen cuts you off in the middle of your sentence. “Syd! Take over y/n’s prep.”

“What the fuck, Carmen?” He doesn’t answer your question, instead he pulls you out of the kitchen by your wrist. Once he gets you out the back door of the restaurant, you expect some kind of explanation for his behavior. “What? Couldn’t yell at me for no reason in front of everyone else?”

Carmy is on you in an instant. His strong hand engulfs the back of your neck, leading you to a stack of empty pallets before bending you over it. He stands behind you, hand still on the back of your neck, but not holding you down anymore. Your mind races, but one thing is clear. Carmy’s hard dick is pressing your ass.

“If you don’t want this, get up and walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened.” He leans down to whisper in your ear. Carmy’s voice is rough, full of desire. Your breathing picks up, but you don’t dare move. Instead, you whine when he rolls his hips against your ass. “Fucking knew you would want me like this. Such a fucking slut aren’t you?”

Carmy wastes no time to pull down your pants and underwear all in one go. You bite your lip, trying not to moan when his fingers run through your folds. “So nasty to be this wet in an alleyway for me where anyone can see.” You should be humiliated. Your boss has you bent over for him in an alleyway, but all you can do is beg for more.

“Please. Please please please.” You cry out, not even quite sure what you’re asking for. You hear the sound of him undoing his belt, and his cock enters you with no warning. He doesn’t go slow, filling you up to the hilt in one quick thrust. You cry out in surprise; he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before. He starts fucking into you a second later, setting a quick pace with his hands digging into your hips. Your fingers dig into the pallets in front of you, desperate to find something to hold onto.

“Fuck- maybe this will teach you to stop running that mouth of yours and listen to me.” He practically moans out, thrusting deep and hard into you. “You need to learn to behave.”

“S-sorry chef. I’ll d-do better.” You feel his movements falter at the title, before he picks back up the pace, hitting even deeper inside of you. You’re already seeing stars, nearing your climax. “C-chef, please I’m so close.”

“Yeah? Going to come for your boss in a filthy alleyway?” One of his hands leaves your hip to touch your clit, rubbing fast circles with his callused fingers. “Go on then. Come around my cock like the slut you are.” He was losing himself too. His voice is rough and thin as he speaks.

It only takes a few more seconds before you come, biting into your hand so you don’t scream. Carmy’s pace falters before you feel him spill into you with a muffled groan.

He pulls out of you promptly without a word, stepping back to put back on his own pants. You stay in the same position, trying to catch your breath.

“Be back at your station in five minutes” Carmen says, walking back into the restaurant. You quickly pull up your pants, trying to ignore the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you. You don’t have any spare pants in your locker. You’re going to have to work through the rest of your shift with his cum running out of you and down your thighs.

You swallow your pride and go back inside to your station. Everyone else thinks Carmy just scolded you outside of the restaurant, so no one says a word when you return, taking back over your prep from Sydney.

Yeah let’s just say that’s not the last time Carmen fucks you in the middle of a shift. I’m thinking a nice fuck buddies relationship forms after this hehe.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto #the bear #ANON ILY #THANK YOU FOR THIS #LITERALLY WAS SCREAMINF WHEN I OPENED THIS #brain rot

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too-deviant · 1 month

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.”

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game.

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time.

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.”

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.”

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.”

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.”

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!”

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train.

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile.

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.”

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.”

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations.

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened.

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all.

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off.

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood.

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch.

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.”

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you.

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?”

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.”

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.”

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later.

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him.

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you.

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.”

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.”

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought.

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all.

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up.

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.”

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless.

“Well…” Connor started.

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued.

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.”

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?”

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word.

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you!

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!”

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.”

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same.

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters.

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look.

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder.

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone.

Then it was a waiting game.

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.”

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.”

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer.

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.”

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees.

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side.

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves.

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height.

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too.

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again.

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit.

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear.

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more.

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head.

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory.

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it.

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else.

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you.

You almost missed Chiron's next words,

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud.

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped.

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that.

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most.

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?”

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore.

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door.

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.”

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged.

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt.

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont.

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry.

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt.

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed.

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow.

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.”

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.”

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?”

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.”

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.”

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.”

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.”

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.”

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears.

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling.

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently.

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.”

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears.

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier.

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile.

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.”

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded.

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.”

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.”

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

#sunny!verse #who gasped #guys tell me this is good #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #@lia’s works #luke castellan x you #thanks to the anon who gave me the idea for her godly parent

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penvisions · 2 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Bruises

for @sleep-deprived-athlete 🤍

Summary: you come into Abbott looking like absolute hell. Melissa is worried.

WC: ~2.55k

You really hadn’t meant to get all bruised up at the Rugby game on Saturday- but the sport was tough, and you were by no means a player who would give up a play because you were afraid to get a little scuffed up.

Maybe a little scuffed up was an understatement, if you’re being honest. Your jaw is a beautiful shade of purple and so is your eye thanks to a shoulder to the face, your shoulder is killing you, and the one tumble that you had taken left you with a sore ankle and a bit of a limp.

Still though, being a teacher never stops, and you find yourself dragging your bags and yourself into Abbott bright and early the next Monday.

Your sitting in the staff room, drinking your coffee and icing your shoulder as you continue to go through your lessons for the last coming months of the school year, when the rest of your friends start to make their way in as one big clump. How they all manage to pull up to the school and walk in together almost everyday without fail is beyond you… actually, you know how. They told you that they all plan to get there at exactly 7:43 to enter the building at 7:45, but you were a stickler for time and an early riser already, so you just came in before everyone else to enjoy the peace and quiet while you had the room to yourself.

“Y/N!” Janine gasps. “What happened to you?”

“Hm?” You hum as you allow yourself to take your eyes away from your paper for just one second. Only then do you realize that Janine, Gregory, Jacob, Barbara, and Melissa are all standing in front of you with their jaws dropped and looking quite concerned. “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sweetheart, forgive me for being blunt, but you look like you went to hell and back,” Barbara states.

“It looks a lot worse than it is,” you tell her as you avert your eyes back down to the papers in front of you. “I promise you, I’m fine.” You adjust the icepack before wincing slightly at the cool sensation.

Melissa and Barbara share a look before Melissa sighs softly. She digs around in her bag for a second before pulling out her CBD oil. “Move your hair.”

You do so without looking up, not really questioning the instruction. You’re so focused on your lesson plans that you just follow the order without a second thought. You’re shocked though when you feel liquid on your shoulder. “Mel, what?”

“It’s just CBD oil… it’ll help ease the pain,” the redhead tells you. And then her hands are rubbing the oil into your shoulder, and you can’t help but let out a soft groan. Shit… maybe you really should go get your shoulder checked out.

“Hun, what happened?”

“Just got a little roughed up,” you sigh as her hands continue to massage the sore spot.

That does not help the worried looks that your coworkers are giving you.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you promise them. “I have to head down to my classroom to do a bit of prep, but I’ll see youse all at lunch.”

As you stand and start to gather your things though, you let out a small hiss in pain at the pressure on your ankle. All of their heads immediately snap in your direction.

“Hun,” Melissa frowns.

You hold up a hand, silently requesting for no further comment on the matter. You limp your way out of the staff lounge and head into your classroom. You thought that you could make it through the day without having to put your ankle brace on, but you were clearly wrong. You’re lacing it up when the redhead makes her way into your room and closes the door.

“What’s going on?” she asks you frankly.

You just continue to lace up your brace, mildly annoyed that she won’t let it go.

“Mel, I’m fine. Just a little-”

“A little roughed up,” the second grade teacher cuts you off. “I heard you the first time. You don’t get to come in here after a weekend with a shiner that competes with the one Kristen Marie had after her and I squared up after Nonna’s funeral, a bum shoulder, and an ankle brace and get to be mysterious about it. What gives?”

You take a deep breath before meeting her green eyes with your own. “I fell. I’m fine.”

“Fell?” Melissa raises a brow as she folds her arms across her chest. “You don’t get all of your injuries from a fall.”

“Well, I did,” you sigh. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. It’s the truth.”

“Did anyone help you fall?” the redhead asks. “I know you and your girlfriend broke up a couple weeks ago, and if she did this to you-”

“She didn’t do nothin’,” you tell her quickly. “Now please- I have to prep for today.”

“Hun-”

“Melissa,” you grit through your teeth. “Please. I have to prep, and I’m moving a little slower than usual, so I need all the time I can get.”

Your coworker purses her lips. “Fine. But know that I’m always here if you need to talk.” She turns on her heel and heads out towards her work wife’s room. You close your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“She’s actin’ real weird,” the redhead states as she sits in Barbara’s rocking chair.

The kindergarten teacher nods. “Poor thing looks like she crawled out of the seventh layer of hell.”

“And she got real snippy with me when I asked her if Jen had anything to do with it… shut me down real quick and refused to talk to me anymore,” Melissa sighs. “I just want to help her if she’s in a sticky situation.”

“Melissa,” Barbara says softly. “If I do remember correctly, you were the same way when things got messy with Joe.”

“I know!” the second grade teacher huffs. “But now that I’m on the other end of it… I just want to help if I can.”

“And that is very kind of you,” the older teacher tells her friend. “But if she’s not ready to ask for help, the only way that you can help is by being kind and gentle with her.”

“I guess,” Melissa purses her lips. “Well… I suppose I should go pretend to do my job.”

“I suppose you should,” Barbara nods. “But seriously… do not go all Schemmenti over this. I’m sure Y/N is fine, and if she isn’t… we’ll be there to help pick up the pieces later.”

The redhead grabs her coffee before entering the staff lounge once more. She brews another pot of coffee and fills her own mug before grabbing a spare from the cupboard. She prepares that second cup of liquid gold the way she knows you like it before heading back down to your room.

“Hey,” she knocks on the doorframe gently. “I figured I would bring you another cup so you don’t have to limp your way down during prep.”

You smile at her gently, as much as your bruised jaw will allow you to. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Melissa says softly, so out of character for her. “I’m here to help.”

When you expect her to linger, she just gently sets the cup of coffee on your desk and makes her way back out to her own classroom.

When your kids come in, they’re immediately asking you what happened, if you’re okay.

“I’m doing just fine,” you chuckle. “But thank you for your concern. If you think I look bad, you should see the other person,” you joke, thinking none of them will care enough to repeat your words. What you’re saying is right though- the other girl got just as roughed up, if not worse. Oh how wrong you are.

Come lunch, Melissa is right at your door, asking if you want her to bring your lunch down for you from the break room.

“I can come get my lunch,” you chuckle as you wave off her offer. “I could use the movement anyway… been teaching from my chair.”

The two of you make your way into the staffroom, and she all but pushes you into a chair before grabbing your lunches out of the refrigerator for you. When you expect her to sit down next to you with her own lunch, she doesn’t. She heads for the fridge again and pulls out two ice packs. She gently tucks the first one into your bra strap to ice your shoulder, and then she’s sitting down and gesturing for you to prop your foot up on her lap.

“Melissa, I’m really okay,” you try to tell her again. She shakes her head though and all but forces your leg into her lap. She unlaces your brace before setting the icepack over the bruised area. Then, and only then, does she dive into her own lunch.

You smile softly at her. “Thank you.”

“Someone’s gotta look after you when you won’t ask for help,” she rolls her eyes. “And I’ll be damned if it isn’t me.”

The lunch period passes by quickly, but then you remember that you have recess duty. With a sigh, you reach forward to lace up your brace again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands try to stop your own.

“I have recess duty,” you tell her. “Don’t worry, I’m planning on bringing a chair out and just monitoring from there.”

She ties your brace up for you before standing with you. “I’m not letting you lug out a chair by yourself with your ankle and bum shoulder… Jesus, don’t you think you should go get your ankle checked out? It’s the size of a baseball.”

“I’ve had worse,” you sigh offhandedly as you begin to make your way outside. No more than thirty seconds later is she outside with you, two chairs under her arm. She sets them out before gesturing for you to sit down.

“Thanks,” you mutter. The two of you sit there for a bit of time before the warmth from the sun begins to become too much for you, and unconsciously you roll up a sleeve- revealing the bruises on your arms.

The redhead next to you does everything she can to not stare at them as her mind goes a mile a minute, wondering exactly how you got all of these injuries.

And then two kids run up to the two of you. One is in your class, and the other is in Melissa’s.

“Miss Y/N,” your kid says as she bounces on her toes.

“What’s up, Jayla?”

“Tell Amaya what you told us today about why you have all of your bruises,” she tells you. “She doesn’t believe me.”

“I fell?” you respond, confused as hell.

“Yeah, but what did you say after that?”

“Thank you for your concern?” you tell her, even more confused than the first time.

“But then what after that?”

You shrug.

“You told us that we should see other person that did this to you!” Jayla yells.

You purse your lips into a fine line, and you can see the way that Melissa is eying you in your peripheral view. “That’s just an expression, hun. I didn’t mean it literally.”

“You still said it,” your student smirks before turning to her friend as they walk off. “I told you she said that!”

“So,” Melissa leans in. “What was that?”

“I didn’t really mean it,” you huff. “It was a joke. I didn’t think the kids would remember it.”

“Hun,” the redhead lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “If you need help…”

“I don’t need help,” you sigh. “I promise you. I’m just fine.”

And then the bell rings to signal the end of recess. You limp your way over to your students’ line while Melissa gathers the chairs under her arm again and takes them inside. You get the kids back inside and finish out the day teaching from your desk.

After school, as much as you would love to just go home and relax, there is a staff meeting. You slowly make your way into the library and take up your place next to Melissa. While you’re waiting for everybody else to come trickling in, the redhead reaches into her bag again and pulls out her CBD oil. Before you can stop her, it’s on your shoulder again, and she’s gently working it into your skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly, trying not to groan out in pain.

She just nods before lifting your injured foot into her lap again. Melissa unlaces your brace again and begins to rub the oil over your swollen ankle. At that, you grimace, but you let her continue.

And then Ava is making her way in.

“Hey y’all,” she grins as she makes her way over to your table. “Damn girl… you did a great job on Saturday.”

You chuckle lightly. “Thanks.”

“What game?” Janine asks. “And why weren’t we invited?”

“Ava wasn’t even invited,” you roll your eyes. “She was just there where I was playing rugby.”

“I was there to…” she smirks. “Check out the eye candy and go window shopping. I had no idea Y/N is the hottie that she is.”

“You play rugby?” Melissa raises an eyebrow.

You nod. “And that… is how I got the black eye, the bruises, and the shoulder and ankle injuries.”

“Why wouldn’t you just say that?” the redhead asks you.

You go to speak, but Ava decides that now is the time to start her meeting, claiming that most of the faculty was in the room and she doesn’t want to have to be here much longer. So, you aren’t able to answer.

Once the meeting is over, Melissa is helping you out to your car in silence.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that you got hurt playing sports?”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a wuss,” you shrug, only to wince slightly at the throbbing in your shoulder. “I didn’t want no one making a big fuss over me.”

“Hun,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Of course we were going to make a big fuss over you when we saw you. I was out here thinking you got beat up or were getting abused… I wish you would’ve just told me that you got hurt playing a sport.”

You turn a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

“You promise me that this was from rugby?”

“Promise,” you sigh softly. “The team I was playin’ was tough and showing no mercy… the ref called a bunch of flags, but by that point the damage was done.”

Melissa gives you a sympathetic look. “Well, why don’t you come over tonight, and I’ll help nurse you back to health? Cook you dinner, let you ice, rub some more CBD oil on your injuries.”

“Are you flirting with me?” you tease her.

The woman in front of you just shrugs. “Maybe… what do you say?”

“I’ll be there by five,” you chuckle as you hobble along to get into your car.

TAGS, and lmk if you wanna be added: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

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highvern · 2 months

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Sales Pitch

Pairing: Moon Junhui x fe!reader

Genre: Smut, 21+

Warnings: dom reader, sub/brat jun, anal sex (m. receiving), pegging, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, sex toys, impact play, breath play, freak deakys fr!!!

Length: 3.6k

Note: for my bestie @wenjunehui i hope its all you dreamed of and more pookie

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Part II