#let's just said 18-20 me did some very questionable things

[springwitch26]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny Meet Ugly

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.

Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Word Count: 14.5K

Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.

Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.

“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.

It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.

The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.

It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.

It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.

Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.

“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.

“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”

“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”

“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”

“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.

“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.

Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.

It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.

You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.

The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.

You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.

The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.

“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.

Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.

“Evening, Officer…”

“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.

“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.

“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”

“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”

You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.

“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”

He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.

You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.

Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.

You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.

“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.

“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”

“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.

He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.

The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.

“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.

"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.

"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”

"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”

"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.

You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.

The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”

“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”

“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.

“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”

“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”

“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”

“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”

The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.

No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.

The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.

Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.

“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.

“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”

“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”

Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.

You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.

“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.

“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”

“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.

“Thanks Maggie.”

You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.

He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.

Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.

Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.

Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.

The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.

You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.

Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.

He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.

“This happen often?” You asked him.

“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.

You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.

It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.

One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.

He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.

His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.

Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.

You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.

Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.

You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.

With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.

You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.

Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.

“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”

So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.

“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.

He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.

“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.

You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.

You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.

“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.

“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.

You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”

“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”

“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”

“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.

“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.

“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.

“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.

You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.

“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.

“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.

“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.

He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.

“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”

He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.

He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.

You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.

Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.

You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.

You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.

He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.

Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.

He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.

He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.

He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.

He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.

It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.

The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.

Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.

Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.

Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.

You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.

The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.

“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”

He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.

“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.

“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”

“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.

He shook his head and watched you go.

“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?

The following week he seemed to be everywhere.

He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.

A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.

The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.

You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.

“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.

He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.

You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”

“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.

He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.

“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”

“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.

“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”

“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.

You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.

As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”

You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.

“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.

“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.

“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”

“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.

“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”

“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”

“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.

“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?” You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?

“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.

He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.

“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”

You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.

“And you think you're just the man for the job?”

“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.

Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.

“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.

His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.

“Have a good night, Deputy.”

You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.

Two weeks.

Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.

Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.

You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.

“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.

He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.

It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.

It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.

Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.

Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.

Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.

Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.

“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.

His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?

“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.

His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.

“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”

He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”

“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.

“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.

“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.

“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.

“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”

He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.

He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.

“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”

“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.

He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.

He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.

There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.

He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.

“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.

There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.

“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”

That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”

You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.

Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.

You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.

You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.

“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.

He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.

He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.

He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.

“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.

“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.

“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.

“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.

“What? What are you…”

“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”

The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”

He sat quietly for another moment.

“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”

You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.

“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.

He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.

“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.

He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.

Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.

It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.

“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”

He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.

He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.

You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.

He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.

His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.

He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.

His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.

Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.

You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.

It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.

He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.

You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.

“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.

“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.

His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?

As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.

He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.

You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.

He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.

You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.

He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.

You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.

“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.

“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”

This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.

“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”

You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.

He pulled back slightly to look down at you.

“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”

His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.

Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.

His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.

You were positively soaked, glistening before him.

Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.

He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.

“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.

He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.

You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.

“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.

“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.

“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.

You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.

“Please what baby?”

You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.

“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.

He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.

He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.

He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.

Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.

He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.

You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.

“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.

He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.

He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.

Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.

He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.

Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.

“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”

Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.

The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.

Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.

He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”

Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.

“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”

He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.

His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.

He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.

“You good?” He finally asks.

There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.

You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.

He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.

“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.

“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.

He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.

“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.

“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”

You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”

You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.

“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.

He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.

“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.

“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.

“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.

He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.

At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.

“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”

You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.

“Ok big boy, let's go.”

The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.

“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.

“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.

“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.

“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.

You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.

You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.

“I know it's not much,” you began.

“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.

He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.

He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.

For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.

As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.

You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.

Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.

“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.

You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.

Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.

“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.

You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.

He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.

His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.

He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.

“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.

“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.

You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.

“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.

You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.

His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.

You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.

You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.

You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.

As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.

“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.

It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.

“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”

“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.

“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.

You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.

You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.

He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.

You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.

You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.

“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.

He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.

“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.

He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.

“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.

“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.

He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.

He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.

The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.

You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.

You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.

“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.

His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.

“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.

His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.

“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.

“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.

Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.

He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.

Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.

He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.

He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.

“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.

You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”

His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.

The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.

He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.

“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.

“You sure?”

“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”

He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.

“What are you…?”

“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”

You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.

“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.

He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.

You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.

“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”

You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.

His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.

“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”

“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.

He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.

When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.

He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.

He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”

“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.

You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.

“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.

“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.

He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.

“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”

He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.

“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.

“Yes! Cum in me!”

“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”

His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.

He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.

He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.

Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.

“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.

“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.

His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.

“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”

He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.

He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.

“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”

It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.

“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.

You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.

When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.

Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.

Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.

The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.

You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.

You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.

Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.

He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.

He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.

Where the fuck are you?

He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.

He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.

Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.

He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.

He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.

He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.

You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.

You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.

Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.

You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.

You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.

You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.

Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.

Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.

One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.

He had responded to your text later that day with:

Sure bunny. you free tonite?

You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.

It had been like that most nights since.

There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.

Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.

You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.

And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.

You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.

He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.

His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.

He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.

“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.

Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.

“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.

“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.

He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.

You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.

The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.

You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.

After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.

He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.

“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.

“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.

“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.

“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.

“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.

Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.

It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.

A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.

It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.

It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.

The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.

You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.

Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.

You still in town?

Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.

Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.

Can we talk?

I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?

Hello?

You groaned, sitting up.

Finally relenting and typing out a reply.

You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.

It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.

You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.

You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.

“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.

Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.

“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.

“Move Gator.” You hissed.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.

“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”

You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.

“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.

Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”

“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”

“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.

If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.

If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?

“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.

He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.

You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.

“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”

You brought a finger to his lips.

“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.

“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”

You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?

You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.

His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.

Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.

He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”

“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.

“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.

He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.

“Fuck, so wet.”

“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.

He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.

Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”

Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.

He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.

You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.

He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.

“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.

Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.

The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.

“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”

“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”

You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.

Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.

“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”

He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.

He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.

“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.

Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.

“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”

You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.

“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.

He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”

“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.

“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.

“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.

You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.

He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.

He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.

It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.

After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.

The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.

He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.

You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.

He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.

The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.

As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.

You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.

“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.

“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.

“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”

“I haven't thought about it.”

He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”

He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.

“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”

He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.

“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”

Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.

You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.

He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.

“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.

“You'll see. C'mon.”

You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.

“Whose house is this?”

“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.

It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.

“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.

“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.

“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”

“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.

"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”

"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.

"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."

"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”

You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.

“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.

“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.

No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.

Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.

[missjomarch]

Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 

“Luke.” 

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 

“Fine, Jack.” 

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 

“How long have you been following behind me?” 

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 

“What’d I miss?” 

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.” 

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 

 “Someone hit me.” 

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 

“For what, love?” 

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 

“Mhmm. Lukey?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 

“Luke.” 

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 

“Even Secretariat.” 

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: after your first encounter, joel turns into an asshole every time you're around. when tommy makes you two go out on patrol together, it turns into a muddled mess. turns out, he didn't hate you at all, he just sucks at emotions.

Part 2/3

FIND PART 1 HERE

PART 2 HERE

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, killing of infected (including a child), blood, some LIGHT gore, age gap (more specified in this part), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names, joel is still a menace to society and a jerk

Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you!! you all are so fabulous and sweet. I'm gonna make a masterlist soon, so be on the lookout. I'm also starting a tag list so, if you want to be included, please let me know! All feedback is welcomed. I love you all sm.

I came prepared for absolution if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Joel on more of your patrols. 

The patrols after your night together ended up being filled with unspoken sexual tension. You’d go home sexually frustrated and hungry for more, but you were never bold enough to make a move. And to be real, you weren’t sure if you should. He’d say something about keeping your shoulders straight when you shot, you’d say something stupid like “make me” and he’d spit back with, “I may just do that, girl.”

But it never went anywhere. 

Even if you tried to make a pass, he’d make an excuse or remind you that you two were strictly working at the moment. 

You once invited him over after a particularly long shift, wanting some relief from the ache between your thighs.

“Got things to get done at home,” He said, “Maybe another time.”

So after that week of patrols, you were suddenly never on his patrols again. You were put on the exact opposite shifts, actually. You had some sneaking suspicions that he asked Tommy to switch it up. He stopped looking at you during morning meetings and eventually you decided to drop the whole idea of him.

It still crossed your mind every time you saw him, though. How he felt on your lips. How his body felt connected with yours.

Your breathing would change every time you reminisced on your time together. He would consume your mind for brief periods and you couldn’t get away. You kept telling yourself that time would lessen the blow, but it never did. 

So you tried your best to forget. 

On one particularly chilly morning, you head to your scheduled time at the stables. You’d be going out with Jesse this time around. He was a newcomer, a real sweetie. Tommy wanted you to teach him all you knew about patrolling and securing certain areas. 

But when you arrive, you notice Tommy, Joel, and Jesse all standing around waiting. You hadn’t said much to Joel the last couple weeks, only a wave or a quiet mumbled hello. His back was turned to you, but you knew those shoulders and back all too well.

“Are we all going out this morning?” You question, adjusting your braid on your shoulder. Joel turns to you, not expecting your voice to come up behind him. His eyebrows furrow at your presence. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy smiles, “You and Joel are gonna be going up to the ski lodge. Heard there’s a hoard or two out there, they need to be cleared.”

“I thought you said I was going with Jesse?” Joel speaks up a bit too quickly. Tommy’s words caught you off guard, so you just stand there waiting for him to respond to Joel, but it never comes.

You swallow, clearing your throat.

“No, I was supposed to go out with Jesse, actually.”

Jesse looks at everyone confused.

He was a cute kid. 20 years young, fresh faced, ready to take on anything. He had all this energy, something you wish you still had. Now you had a bad back, fucked knees, and a terrible sleeping schedule. You were only about 10 years older than him and you’re falling apart. 

“We can all just go together?” Jesse offers, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. You knew that’d be shot down quick, especially when it came to a newbie. If there’s infected, we never throw the new guys into the pits of hell. They’d never want to patrol again. 

Tommy shakes his head, “No, I want her and Joel to clear that area before I take you that route. They know it well. We are going to head towards the power plant. We have to bring back some supplies I have stored there.”

Joel’s eyes could laser Tommy in half at that moment. He was pissed and completely blindsided.

You surrendered to the idea, too tired to argue and fight about something so stupid. You also didn’t question their orders, simply because they knew better than you. You wanted to make sure Jackson was safe, just like everyone else.

You gesture Jesse to give the brothers some time alone, motioning towards the horses. You’d at least make sure the horses were ready for his trip out with Tommy. He grabs the reins of two horses, walking them outside towards the front gate. You grab the other two horses, doing the same thing. 

He took notice to your tired eyes, “You okay going out today? You look tired.”

“Wow, Jesse,” You laugh, “I thought I looked great this morning when I woke up.”

He instantly starts to backpedal, not picking up your joke. You shake your head, trying to talk over all his apologies. 

“I’m just messin’ Jesse. I am tired, but I’ll be okay, don’t you worry.”

He smiles, nudging your shoulder a bit. 

“You just gave me a heart attack,” He chuckles, “You sure though? Even with Joel?”

You glance over at the Millers, watching them argue about whatever Joel was truly mad about. You knew in your head it was because he didn’t want to be around you. The feeling was becoming mutual. You never wanted to make anything awkward or difficult, but you guess that’s exactly what you did. 

You just shrug. Jesse takes that as your response, grabbing the reins of your horse and handing them over to you. 

“You stay safe out there,” He says, “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You couldn’t help but snicker, “No need to worry about that, dude.”

–

Oh, but was he getting under your skin. 

You initially just nod at every direction he makes at you, remembering that it was like this before anyway. But then he starts to undermine every suggestion you made. 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“We will be back before sundown, you know that. Don’t be dumb about it.”

“Stoppin’ would be dumb as hell. You can wait.”

You had been begging for 30 minutes to stop and pee. He was not giving in to anything you’d say. After awhile, you could not hold it anymore. You pull your horse to the side of the trail, not even saying anything to him. You dismount the horse, holding the reins for a moment before you hang them on a branch nearby. 

“What are you doin’?” He spits, noticing you off your horse. You come around the horse, giving him a deadly glare. You grab your pack, finding some cloths you bring on your patrols so you can wipe and throw away. 

“I have to fuckin’ pee, Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Get back on your horse,” He demands, his posture getting more stiff. 

You shake your head, unbuttoning your jeans and turning back to a private area behind a tree. You remember the moments before kissing Joel for the first time. Him telling you how great your ass looked in your jeans. You grimace. 

You tug down your pants and squat. 

You relieve yourself, quickly using your cloth to wipe when you finish. You toss it behind you, standing up in your spot and turning around to head back to your horse. 

You realize Joel is off his horse, bounding towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling you to face him. 

“Why don’t you fuckin’ listen?” He says through gritted teeth. 

It took everything in you not to fucking snap. You wanted to pull away and scream and yell and throw something at him. But instead your heart just started racing at the contact his hand made with your skin and you physically couldn’t do anything. 

He realizes you’re caught off guard. He didn’t grab you hard, just enough shake you a bit to get your attention on him and only him. His facial expression changes as he drops your arm, stepping back a couple of paces. It’s like he realized he was being a bit too aggressive. Maybe it was your expression that brought him back down from whatever pedestal he thought he was on. 

“Don’t touch me,” Is all you could think to say. He wasn’t even touching you anymore but you still felt him all over you. 

He just nods. 

You look down at yourself, realizing your pants are still unbuttoned. You look back up at Joel who’s staring at your panties peaking through your unzipped jeans. His eyes travel back up to yours. You decide to slowly button them back up. 

You don’t hear what he says when he peels his eyes away and walks back to his horse. Probably some asshole comment that was better said under his breath.

You both get back on your horses and continue to the ski lodge in silence. Before you scale the one side of the mountain, you hear something. 

You keep your eyes peeled for infected. You are almost positive that’s what you’re hearing so you whistle to catch Joel’s attention. You nod to your left, which is the direction you hear the familiar clicking. You grab your rifle from your side saddle, gesturing to Joel to do the same.

You always get this rush when you have to kill infected. It’s not a good rush at all, it’s pure adrenaline. 

You dismount again, making sure your horse is tied to a nearby tree. Joel is close behind you as you creep forward towards the noise. The woods are dense with trees but there is also a ton of rock formations that were usually excellent cover.

The clicking gets louder and so does the sound of your heartbeat. 

“There,” Joel whispers, gesturing towards a rock. You kneel, creeping up the formation and looking down. There you see not one, not two, but three clickers wondering around a dead deer. It was torn to shreds, blood everywhere. You weren’t bothered by blood at all, it was just the sick smell of decay that got you a bit queasy. You draw your gun up, aiming it towards the clicker closest to you. 

“On three,” You murmur to Joel. You knew that you’d had to shoot two at the same time to give you enough time to kill the third with a quick reload. 

Joel just nods, drawing his gun up. 

“One,” Breath in, “Two,” Hold, “Three” Breath out.

The sounds of guns sent the clicking sounds to an all time high. Your ears are ringing, but you instinctively cock your gun, releasing one shell. 

You aim, firing your weapon at the third and final clicker. You hear Joel yell something, but your ears are still ringing. 

Then it hits you. 

“Three more!” 

Every time you’re in a fight or flight situation, you always fight. Old you would run. 

You bring your weapon up, noticing Joel’s new position on the boulder. He’s aiming and firing at some infected down hill who are quickly running at you two. 

You refocus in searching the area behind you. The last thing you needed was a sneak attack from a stalker. One enters your eye line and you fire. You keep count of how many bullets you have. Three down, four more left. 

“Got two on your right!” 

You hear Joel’s directions, drawing your weapon up and shooting another stalker between the eyes. The last one was a child, which was always the hardest. You knew that there was no choice, so you pull the trigger, which sent the child flying backwards. You wince a bit, seeing that this was probably just a family who got caught in the wrong situation. You killed all of them in less than a minute. Life wasted. 

Silence fills the air, your ears still ringing from endless gunfire. You turn back to Joel who’s breathing heavily and holstering his gun. 

You never had to question Joel’s abilities, which made him an excellent patrol partner. He knew exactly how to react in high risk situations. 

He made you feel safe. 

“Looks like we found one of the hoards Tommy was talking about,” He says, walking up to you, “Lets hope it’s just the one.”

“Glad it was you with me and not Jesse,” You say, relaxing your arm. 

“That kid would be dead by now.”

-

When you’re less than a mile from your stop, you notice some storm clouds taking over the beautiful summer sky. The air starts to change. The wind begins to pick up, blowing your braid back and tickling your bare neck. The air smells like rainwater, sweet and pungent. 

You use the silence to think about how simple life use to be. You reminisce about your childhood that was cut too short. You were a young adult when the infection started so you hadn’t been able to get married or settle down with a family. Everything was ripped away from you so prematurely and deep down, you crave that simplicity. Get married, have children, die of old age. 

If only you could’ve lived in a world where you didn’t have to kill a child because some random ass fungus took over their humanity.  

“We are almost there,” Joel says finally, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We may have to ride out the storm.”

You just nod even though he can’t see you. 

The ski lodge was actually very beautiful. It was one of two that was used as a safe house for patrols, this one being your personal favorite. You had been there with Tommy once and he gave you the grand tour. It was reasonably clean for being so old, stocked full of canned items, and had very comfy beds. 

You start to bring your horses to the covered back porch when it starts to rain. You grab all your gear, slinging it over your shoulder. Joel jingles a key out of his pocket, racing to the sliding glass doors. He unlocks the door, ripping it open as soon as the rain picks up. You both make it in the quiet lodge, setting your belongings on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m going to get the lanterns up and running,” You mumble, heading towards the living room where all the lanterns were scattered about. Joel locks the sliding glass door, before he starts rummaging through his bag. 

You turn on as many lanterns as you can, lighting up the room with warm glow. 

You find your way onto one of the couches, kicking your boots off. 

“Want me to start a fire? We may have to hang out the rest of the night if that storm don’t let up,” Joel questions, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. 

You shrug, “Don’t matter.”

He starts to pile up some wood as you find an apple in your bag. You watch him slowly pace back and forth from the wood pile to the huge stone fireplace. You watch his back muscles flex when he picks up a piece of wood. You were using him as a distraction to get you away from those dark thoughts from earlier. 

You bite into your apple. 

“You bring anythin’ for me?”

Is he fucking with you?

“There’s canned peaches in the cabinets.”

He laughs, lighting the wood with a match. You watch the fire build and build as he messes with the wood. He was squatting, his shirt riding up a bit. Even his lower back was eye catching. 

“You don’t wanna share?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sharin’ anything with you.”

He turns back to you with a smirk playing on his lips, “Not even a better look at those panties you’re wearing?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. 

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.”

You did hear him, of course, but were in denial of the actual intentions behind the words. He creeps closer, finding a spot on the couch next to you. You take another bite of your apple, staring at him with curiosity. 

Was he being serious?

You contemplate your options. Do you play into the game? Do you resist and possibly regret it later? He was such an asshole earlier. But then again, he always is. He was before you slept with him. So was that a valid excuse to not play into the game?

You remember the ache between your legs last night after reading a smutty romance novel. You imagined the characters as you and Joel, yet you never wanted to admit it. You knew that you wanted this, but resisting to give him a taste of his own medicine would be satisfying, too.

“Ya know,” He ponders, leaning over to meet your eyes, “I still have your other pair you left at my house.”

You remember the slight panic you felt the morning after when you couldn’t find them. You knew damn well he’d find them somewhere, but you didn’t think he’d keep them. 

“Didn’t even know I left them,” You lie, your eyes averting away from him. 

You were a horrible liar. 

“You’re pretty cute when you lie, sweetheart,” He grabs your chin, tilting your face back to his, “You left them on purpose. Thought you’d use that as an excuse to come crawling back to me.”

He was being smug, you knew that. For some reason, you don’t cave immediately even though the conversation was making you tingle.

“Crawling back to you? Why would I do that?” You question, “When I have all these other guys who will gladly take up my offers.”

He smiles smugly, “Hm, that doesn’t seem very like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to whore yourself out to a bunch of assholes.”

His finger traces your lower lip, catching it and pulling down. You don’t pull away, soaking up the intense tension in the air. 

“You don’t know me, Joel Miller.”

He just stares at your mouth, “I know enough.”

You want to lean in further, push your lips on his and finally surrender to him. But you hold on for a few more seconds. You’re practically quivering under his touch, wanting nothing more to just cut the shit and jump on top of him.

“You told me not to touch you earlier,” he mumbles, “But here you are just fumblin’ over yourself every time I touch ‘ya.”

“Will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

His touch becomes rougher, his one arm pulling you into his lap, the other hand grabbing your face roughly. 

“You start talkin’ like that you get nothin’,” his breathing fans your face, blowing your baby hairs away from your forehead, “Be a good girl like before.”

You squirm a bit, trying to lift your head in defiance. It doesn’t work, he has a good grip on you. His eyes are dark as he adjusts you so you are practically mounted on his lap. He releases your face bringing his hand down to your neck. He pulls you down to his lips, connecting them feverishly. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You melt into him, your hands wrapping around his neck before sliding them down his chest. His hips are practically rutting into yours. You grind down, moaning out at the contact. You knew that being disobedient wouldn’t get you anywhere, so to get what you want, you knew you’d have to play into his dominance. 

He smiles into the kiss, knowing you have been waiting for this moment. 

You pull away, pulling your shirt off. He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal. You kind of are. 

“Missed these tits,” He says his hands resting on your ribcage, right under your bare breasts, “Best ones I’ve ever seen.”

“Joel,” You groan, fumbling for the button on your pants, “Need you. Bad.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know baby.”

He fondles you for a second before latching his lips around your left nipple. His tongue swirls around it before he slightly bites it. You arch your back, wanting more from him but he just pulls away. You roll off his lap, tugging your pants down, including your underwear. 

“Ah,” He’s not even paying attention to you butt naked all spread for him, instead he’s leaning down to your pile of clothes. He grabs your panties, holding them up, “Baby pink. You fuckin’ tease.”

“Joel,” You whine, nudging him with your foot, “Enough about my underwear.”

He runs his hands up your leg before standing up and discarding his own shirt and pants. He leaves his briefs on, his cock tenting the gray fabric. 

“So eager,” he mocks, “What do you want from me, baby girl? Hm?”

You smile at the million of thoughts running through your head. But you settle for words that you know will drive him wild. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Joel.”

He pulls you to the edge of the couch. He’s on his knees like he’s about to pray at the altar to whatever God may exist. Instead, he’s between your legs, speckling your thighs with scratchy kisses. His salt and pepper hair is messy, his sunkissed bare arms highlighted with some freckles. You never noticed them before. 

“‘M gonna need your mouth,” He mumbles, raising his fingers to your mouth. You grab his wrist with your hands, lifting his fingers to your lips. You suck on every one, releasing each one with a pop. He watches you with his lips slightly agape, almost hypnotized by the action. 

He uses his newly wet fingers to trace your slit before he uses his pointer and middle finger to spread your lips. He’s playing with you, making you writhe underneath his touch. You lift your hips a bit, which causes him to lay his free arm across your lower stomach. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” He gives your pussy one lick, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

He’s good on his word. 

He dives into you like a ravenous animal. His tongue hitting every desperate spot within you. You were taken to the same state of mind when he first ate you out. You had no words, just moans of pleasure. 

He uses his fingers to toy with your opening, sticking two fingers in initially before he becomes too eager to see you fall apart. He wraps his lips around your swollen clit, suckling and moaning around it. You knew from before that he liked all eyes on him. You watch him as the vibrations mixed with him finger fucking you sends you into your first eye rolling orgasm. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life. It’s a release you’ve been yearning months for, making it even sweeter. 

He pulls away, giving your pussy a little slap. It makes you yell out. 

“Came without permission, but that’s okay,” He licks his fingers, “You have a couple more in you.  You just gotta beg extra for ‘em.” 

He was a menace. 

You just nod, not able to communicate your actual feelings on him denying you the simple pleasure of cumming all over him. The idea of having to hold back made you a bit eager to see how far you could take it, though. 

“Need your mouth now,” He tugs off his underwear, kicking them across the room. You don’t know how, but it almost looks bigger. Maybe it’s the swollen red tip that makes you overawe over it. 

“Would you like me on my knees, sir?”

He leers at you, “What a good girl, being so polite… Yes, baby girl, get on your knees in front of me. I wanna see those eyes.”

You crawl off the couch, getting in between his legs. His cock is laying on his lower tummy, just waiting for you. You aren’t super into sucking dick, but this was Joel’s. You know that you had to give it your all. You wanted to give it your all. 

You grab ahold of the base of his cock, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly open your lips to take him. Once your hot mouth touches the tip, he hisses in satisfaction. 

“Mhm,” He groans, “Take all of it, baby.” 

You’re not sure if you can, but you are going to do your very best. 

You relax your throat as much as you can, slowly inching his cock down your throat. You’re halfway around it when it hits your gag reflex. You pull back, still keeping his cock wrapped around your lips. You sit up, jerking the base of his cock as you slurp up as much as you can. 

“You got it baby,” He encourages, “Relax and take it slow.”

Whenever Joel praises you, you can’t help but let it get to your head. 

You take a deep breath in as you take more of him in. Widening your jaw more, you finally get him completely engulfed in your mouth. He twitches inside, which sends a jolt of pleasure to your core. You let him take control, raising his hips a bit to fuck your mouth. He has a hold of your braid, which only adds to the experience. You’ve never had your hair pulled before, but you’re beginning to love the sensation. He’s a moaning mess, chanting your name like a prayer. Your saliva is all over his lower tummy by the time he pulls your mouth away from his cock. 

“Gonna make me cum like that if you keep goin’,” He states, pulling you up to his lips. He kisses you, all tongue and teeth, “Let me fuck that pussy, yeah?”

You whimper, “Yes, please.”

“Such a good girl.”

He pulls you up into his lap while you slowly position yourself above him. You loved riding him before and with how sensitive and riled up you were now, you were prepared to ride his cock like it’s the last thing you’d ever do. 

He focused his attention on rubbing his cock head between your pussy lips. You bite your lip as soon as he pushes slowly into your entrance. You groan, letting the sweet stretch take ahold of you.

“Atta’ girl,” Joel sighs, “Take all of me in that tight little pussy.”

You gasp as soon as he raises your hips a bit, repositioning how his cock sits inside you. His hand rests on your pelvic bone, pulling you forward. You realize he’s guiding you, helping you grind back and forth on his dick. Every roll of your hips pushes a moan out your throat, making Joel stare up at you with satisfaction. He removes his hands from your hips, bringing his right hand to your throat. 

��Fuckin’ Christ, baby girl,” He lets out a wanton moan, while your stomach feels like it’s reaching a boiling point. He realizes how tense your getting so he reaches down with his spare hand, putting more pressure on your clit. “This is my pussy.”

“Mhm.”

“Say it. Say it’s mine.”

“It’s yours, Joel.”

“That’s fuckin’ right, baby girl. All mine.”

“Joel, please,” You cry, “I need to cum.”

“No,” He spits, “You don’t cum until I tell you.”

You clench, trying to resist the release. He notices you slowing down, so he stops choking you. Instead of letting you have a moment to recoup, he grabs your waist again, raising it slightly so he could raise his hips to pound into you. With his fingers still pressing on your bud, he chooses a bruising pace. You are practically screaming, the release imminent.

“Please, please,” You beg, “Joel, I need to.”

He doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy, “You keep beggin’, baby girl. I’ll tell you when.”

“Fuck, fuck,” You can’t stop yourself, the vibration from your incoming orgasm taking over your body, “Please Joel!”

“Cum,” He grits his teeth, “Cum all over this cock, baby girl.”

You have never had an orgasm take over every fiber of your being like it. You throw your head back, yelling Joel’s into the silence of the house. His pace slows down, as your cum soaks his lower half. 

“Oh my god,” You groan, not knowing how to formulate a full sentence yet. You were still seeing stars in your vision, as you try to refocus on Joel. 

“Holy shit,” He pulls out of you, “You okay?”

You just nod, your head falling forward. Your braid falls over your chest in between your breasts. Joel grabs the end of it, toying with it for a moment while you catch your breath.

“I’ll give you a minute,” He picks you up off him, laying you onto the cushion next to him. You grab his hand as he tries to pull away. 

“I don’t need one,” You were still spent from the first two orgasms, it was written all over your face. Joel just chuckles, positioning himself over your body. He cages you in, tilting your face so you make eye contact. 

“You ready for me already?”

“Need you.”

He uses his leg to part your thighs, settling between you again. He was still hard, his cock nudging your swollen wet opening.

“I want your eyes on me,” He commands. 

“Yes, sir.”

He pushes into you again, your mouth parting in a gasp at how sensitive you were. 

He smiles at your reaction while he settles into a steady pace. You try to focus on him, watching his facial expressions as he dives into you over and over again. 

Joel had to be sculpted by whatever God created him. Every part of him was angular, his cheekbones quite high. His nose was just about perfect, especially from the side. His side profile was everything.

You truly didn’t think he looked his age. The only thing that kind of gave him away was the grays speckled through his dark hair. Other than that, the guy was a sex god. 

You are too busy to admiring him, you don’t even realize how close he is. He’s gripping onto your hips, probably bruising them with how tightly he’s holding them. The way his dick twitches inside you, sends that familiar rush back into your body. 

He’s not breaking eye contact. You smirk while he groans pushing harder into you. 

“You better cum inside me,” You murmur, “Want you to fill me up.”

“God,” He cries, “So fucking flithy.”

And he loved that about you. 

He releases into you with a loud sigh. You don’t teeter over that edge until he pulls out of you, looking to see his work. 

He uses his two fingers, pushing them inside you, then back out. He rubs his cum onto your clit, slapping it a couple times. When you jolt in pleasure, he smiles knowingly. 

“One more time?”

He positions himself between your legs again. He’s fingering you so lazily but it’s still enough to have you crying out in pleasure. You don’t even have time to respond to him, before you’re falling over the edge and cumming once more. 

You lay there, trying to catch your breath again. Joel stands up on wobbly legs, making his way to the nearby bathroom. You didn’t know if this house would be stocked with rags or anything, so when Joel comes out with a folded blanket, you can’t help but giggle. 

“This is all we got,” He gestures towards the blanket, “We can burn it when we finish with it.”

You take it from him, running it between your legs. The wooley fabric scratched a bit, but you didn’t have one care in the world. 

Until you get a familiar sinking feeling. Like you did something very wrong.

You sit up while Joel takes the blanket, cleaning up himself. You try to stand, your legs feeling like jelly. You pick up your panties from the floor next to Joel’s clothes. You start to grab each of your clothing items, throwing them on as you go. You watch as he does the same.

“I guess this means you don’t hate me,” You mutter, not knowing what to say after what just occurred. You felt guilty and sick with anxiety.

If anyone else sat in on this day with Joel, they’d say the same thing. The way he talks to you, how annoyed he was to be stuck with you on patrol today, everything. It’d make anyone feel not wanted. 

He shoots you a glance, “I never hated you.”

He says it with such conviction that you wince, not sure whether to believe him.

“You have ignored me for months. You fought with Tommy because you were stuck with me today. And then on the way here, you yelled at me for having to pee. Called me dum-”

“I didn’t call you dumb.”

You breath in sharply, “You’re just impossible, you know that?”

He shakes his head. You know he wants to say something smart back, but it never comes. 

Instead he sits down beside you, keeping his eyes down at his feet. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a lifetime. 

“Listen,” He huffs, “I don’t hate you. I am just not good at…”

“Being nice to people?”

He smirks, finally looking up at you, “Sure, but hey… I don’t regret anything that happened. I enjoy our… time together.”

You wanted to strangle him. 

After months of contemplating what went wrong, he tells you he doesn’t regret anything. 

After spending all that time acting like he did. 

You wear your emotions all over your face and Joel realizes it quickly. He rests his hand on your knee, a gentle gesture that makes your heart rate increase by a thousand. 

“You made me feel like shit for months,” You admit, trying to hold your composure, “I’ve felt like an idiot since the moment Ellie walked in that morning. You made me feel that way, Joel. You made me feel stupid. And here I am, all this time later, and I still feel fucking dumb. Maybe even dumber now, since I just let you fuck me again.”

His hand travels up to cup your cheek. You felt like crying, but you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, darlin’,” He confesses, “I am sorry for everythin’.”

You felt like you were being manipulated. You always had a terrible time figuring out what a genuine apology looked like. You were used to being exploited and having your heart ripped out and stomped on. 

You turn away from his hand, looking out the back sliding glass door. The rain is coming down, pitter pattering on the tin roof over your head. You see lightning go across the sky, hearing the loud crack of thunder seconds later. 

You pondered if you should just run in the other direction. Away from Joel, away from the emotions and memories that were being sludged up from the deepest pits of your brain. 

“When I grabbed you earlier, you had this horrified look on your face…” Joel starts, bringing your attention back, “It was a face ‘d seen more than a few times. That look of disbelief and fear.”

You just let him continue, not looking him the eyes.

“I never wanna to make you feel that way,” He admits, “I never wanna scare you or hurt you. I knew in that moment, I was using that pent up anger at myself towards you.I just… I spent so much time tryin’ to find ways to keep you away from me because I don’t wanna disappoint you or hold you back.”

You finally look back up at him. 

“I am sick of findin’ ways to keep you away. I like havin’ you around.”

You want to believe him so badly. 

“I like having you around, too, Joel. I just…” You stammer, “I just need a bit, okay?”

He bows his head, “Yeah, ‘course. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll take watch and wait for the rain to let up.”

You take up his offer, stalking off to the nearby bedroom. You just wanted space, a moment of peace and quiet. Your body was still recovering from the greatest orgasms of your life, now your mind is littered with a million emotions you didn’t know how to muddle through. Once you lay down on the old bed, you realize that sleep would probably bring you back to life a bit. You close your eyes, letting your mind ease out of the chaos of reality. 

–

When you wake up, you don’t hear anymore rain. You only hear the crackling of the fireplace. You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping, which sends you into a slight panic. You waltz out into the living room, seeing Joel lounging on the couch you defiled and reading. It was a random novel, probably from the large bookcase in the hallway. 

“We good to head back?” You question.

“Yeah, let’s get home ‘fore they send out a search party.”

You watch him stretch his shoulders as he stands, his jaw clenched in an unrelaxed way. His hair is messy and standing in different directions from the way he was laying. It makes you smile. 

“Hey Joel,” You say, walking closer to him, “When we get back to Jackson, would you want to go out to dinner or something?”

His gaze softens. You were really trying, he could tell. 

Your rested mind decided it was time to just jump head first. 

If Joel was being honest with his intentions, maybe it was time for you to be honest with yourself, too. 

“I’d like that, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date, then.”

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101

[jrow]

May Prompts (19)

Day 18 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 20 here.

Weather

They are talking about the bloody weather.

Sure, he is legitimately thrilled to be outside for the first time in days (even if he is stuck in a wheelchair) and it is unseasonably warm. But still, the weather hardly warrants 10 minutes of conversation. He knows that he and Molly are both avoiding having what might be a slightly uncomfortable conversation. It is so very British.

He sighs and looks at Molly, who is still talking about how Toby loves lying in the sun. Enough is enough.

“Molly,” he interrupts, “do you know if I gave Sherlock his birthday gift? Do you know if he opened it?” There is no point in beating around the bush.

Her shoulders tighten a bit but she lets out a sigh. It’s like she’s both relieved and anxious that they are having this conversation. “You definitely gave it to him. I guess you don’t remember but you were … determined when you went over there that night.” She smiles sadly. “It was about time, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t remember getting to Baker Street but … yeah, determined is the right word. I remember feeling that.” He closes his eyes. “Sherlock hasn’t said anything.”

Molly scooches down the bench so she’s closer to him. “He hasn’t opened it,” she stage whispers. She looks around the hospital garden as if making sure no one’s listening. “I popped by Baker Street yesterday—Mrs. Hudson let me in. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! Sherlock borrowed a few files from me last week and I needed them back. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to get them so I just did it myself.” She leans closer. “And your gift was still unwrapped on the coffee table.”

He rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, that answers one question. But why hasn’t he mentioned it at least? Even in his recounting of what happened that night?”

“John,” she says, reaching out and touching his leg. “He’s terrified. And, quite frankly, he has other things on his mind.”

“He feels guilty. It’s obvious.”

“Yes. Incredibly obvious.” She chuckles. “He feels guilty about your fall. You know how he can be. Somehow his silly little brain has decided it’s his fault. I suppose he thinks he should have caught you.”

She makes a good point, but he can’t help but worry it’s something else. “It could be about the gift, though. What if he deduced what’s in the box and feels guilty that he doesn’t want the same.”

She looks to the sky and sighs. “Boys,” she says quietly as if to herself before turning her gaze back towards him. “That’s stupid, John,” she says bluntly.

John leans back, a bit offended. “Come on, you know Sherlock can deduce anything.”

“Not about you!” she says, raising her hands in the air. “You’re his blindspot.” She puts her hands down and takes a deep breath. “And do you really think he’d spend time deducing a birthday gift while you were lying in a hospital bed? I saw him that morning, John. He was a mess. Kept it together on all things Rosie but all in all a mess. He’s not feeling guilty because he thinks he needs to let you down easy.”

John feels slightly chastised but also better. Molly isn’t lying about this. She believes what she’s saying. That’s the best he can hope for.

“Thanks, Molly,” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “For everything.”

“I’m happy to help. I keep offering to do more with Rosie, but Sherlock refuses. At some point I do want to actually see her when she’s awake!”

He laughs. That all sounds about right.

She shrugs. “You know, I’m not sure Sherlock will get it anyways. When he opens the gift, I mean. You are trusting that present to explain quite a lot. Most people would just see it for what it is. A bit extravagant maybe, but that’s it.”

“He’ll take one look and put the pieces together.”

“Blind spot, John. And then you’ll be forced to use your words. Heaven forbid.”

“He’ll know, Molly.” He takes a breath. “I was determined. I am trying to get that determination back. And … I’m not good with words.”

“You two are a pair in that regard.” She shakes her head and then stands up. “Come on, let’s get back.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

Let me know if you want to be added or removed 😊

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part| Chapter 19

Chapter 18 Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 19: After all this time?

Summary: Hershel is recovering and you need to apologize to people that you hurt, even who you never thought you’d hurt.

Warnings: language, mentions of kink, mentions of possible naked people. 18+ MINORS PLEASE DON’T INTERACT.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s sister)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Not proof read. Just a small chapter cause reader needs to do things right after she made a mess.

Shouts. Shoots. Walkers. Long corridors. An unconscious Hershel in a cart. It was all flashes while you ran for Hershel’s life. When you realized the men were carrying him to his cell and you ran behind them to continue treating Hershel. Questions all around on what happened and you couldn’t answer none of them, the words just didn’t come out.

You and Carol kept stemming the blood. You thought about cauterizing it, but wasn’t very sure of it, so you followed what Carol said. It was heartbreaking, but she knew more about stemming human blood than you. “You were right, we shouldn’t have taken him with us.” Maggie cried in the cell hugging Beth.

You sighed, that was your fault. You let out your anger from Daryl on them. “I wasn’t Maggs. He should be allowed to do whatever he wanted to. I was just being an asshole. I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault.”

Suddenly Carl appeared with a bag of medical supplies. You were impressed the things he found would be of help to Hershel. “Thanks Carl, it’ll be of help. You did a great job.” You said.

“It looks like the 12 year-old knows how to hand himself.” Carl bitterly said and here you knew you had screwed bad, he heard what you said and even though it was true, the last thing you thought you’d do in your life was hurting Carl.

“Carl, I…” you started to say, but before you could complete the sentence he left the cell.

You breath deeply, fuck… you needed to talk to him, apologize… but you couldn’t leave Hershel. What if something happened to him? What if he needed your assistance?

“Go talk to him. I’ll keep an eye on Hershel. There isn’t much we can do right now. You know it.” Carol told you, she saw how it was eating you alive not to talk with Carl and at the same time the need to protect Hershel.

“Thanks…” You exchanged a look with the woman and it thanked her even more than your words could.

You got up and left the cell to look for Carl. He was having a hard time having to grow up in this fucked up world, and that was scarily molding his personality. The last thing you wanted was for him to not feel safe and happy with you anymore. He was your nephew, he would always be the baby you carried so many years ago. You ended up finding him on the second floor sitting on the platform, his legs hanging in the air, his arms and face resting on the bars.

You sat by his side silently, he noticed your presence but said nothing. He also didn’t move or try to leave. “I’m sorry. I didn’t totally mean what I said earlier.” You told the boy.

“But you meant some of it.” That was his answer.

“Yes, because you weren’t supposed to be responsible to protect any of us. In the old world you’d never do that…”

“The old world doesn’t exist anymore.” Carl answered, he wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t less worrying.

“I know.” You answered, and thought a lot more before speaking again. “Adults are stupid. I was angry at Daryl and I let it out on everyone. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to kick his balls?” You almost chocked on your spit.

“Carl, language!” You disciplined him. “And, no!”

“No one gave me good examples in the last months.” He side eyed you and you tried to contain the grin that was building on your face. “Daryl and you especially…”

“Tell any of these bad words next to your mom and I’m throwing you through the fence to feed the walkers.” You joked and elbowed him. He snorted, it was good to hear him laughing, it had been quite a time since last time you heard his laughter. “So… does it mean I’m forgiven?”

“I can’t be angry at the best aunt for too long…” he answered.

You side hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “Good, I didn’t lose the best aunt position. I was a little concerned…” you played, being forgiven by him was a great relief in such a crazy day.

Later that day Hershel woke up and was at that moment sleeping safe and sound on his cell, with the care of everyone, but mainly his beloved daughters. When the men got back from their mission helping the found prisoners take a block for themselves they told you everything that happened and how they had to put down some of them, now only Oscar and Axel being alive.

After everything was settled, Rick sent you and Daryl to one of the towers for watch duty. Just as if you were kids that needed to be punished for fighting each other. Once at the tower, you sat your back resting on the wall, legs stretched and a gun and the crossbow resting on it. Silence. A deafening silence.

“Did you sleep well?” You cleared your throat and asked.

“Nah, I can’t sleep well without ya.” He answered. “Did ya?”

You breathed deeply. “I had a nightmare. One of the bad ones.” You confessed, images of it coming back to your mind.

“Why didn’t ya come to me?” He knew why, but he couldn’t really control when the words left his mouth.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” Confessing it out aloud was a little embarrassing.

“I… after all this time?” It annoyed him a little, but he couldn’t blame you for this.

“The way you said it yesterday…” You said. “It looked like it.”

“That’s… Did I ever tell you that Merle already went to jail?” He asked and confessed at the same time. “Where I came from, nobody thought a single good thing about the Dixon’s. They knew my father was no good, Merle was no good… I wasn’t no good. They expected all the time that I’d end up imprisoned like my brother. I know it’s stupid, but I felt it would be true if I stayed in a cell.”

“That’s how you felt, that’s not stupid.” You reached for his hand taking a hold on it. “You could have told me.”

“I know. ‘M sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. For being a bitch.” You looked at him, a small smile on your face. You felt so bad when you fought with him, it didn’t happen very often, but it always made both of you feel bad.

“Let’s never go sleep with things unsolved an’more” He was never one for many words, but you changed it, maybe for the others he was still the grumpy man that would speak more with his expressions than with words. But for you… he was learning how to speak, how to express… and for you he would make a speech if it meant you’d not have a mis understanding like this again. “If something like this happens… let’s find each other and solve things.”

“You got a deal, babe.” You squeezed his hand and then intertwined your fingers.

“Come ‘ere.” He pulled your hand towards him and you didn’t hesitate to put the guns aside and sit across his lap.

You put an arm around his neck and hide your face there, inhaling his scent… you could all be dirty from months on the road, but you couldn’t care less when it was about him, he was always the same, so manly… so… Daryl. “It was very difficult to refuse your hug today in the morning, you know?” You softly said.

“Was it?” He played, you for sure knew how it took a lot out of him to demonstrate things like this somewhere people could see.

“Yeah, and I appreciate it.” You kissed his cheek tenderly.

“Ya saved Hershel’s life today, ya were amazing.” He put a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“I was panicking…” You confessed, but you didn’t need to, he knew it.

“I know, and it’s still one of the hottest things ya’ve ever done.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, he always had the strangest ideas about what was hot. You killing walkers? Hot! You deciding to cut an old man’s leg to save his life? Hot!

“Does Daryl Dixon have a kink on doctors/nurses or something?” You teased him.

“Nah… I don’t got those things. I’ve got ya, ya’re my kink.” He pecked your lips.

“I like the outcome of it…” you pressed your lips against his starting a lazy lovely kiss. You were so glad everything was fine again. You were so glad you solved this misunderstanding.

“I’m going up! I hope you two are dressed!” Carol’s voice coming from the stairs startled you.

You parted from each other and you sat by his side again. “Of course we’re dressed Carol, why wouldn’t we be? We’re on watch duty.”

“Honey, if I’m saying it’s because there’s a reason, and I’d rather find both of you dressed.” Your friend said showing up at the corner of the tower with two plates. “We prepared some food, so I thought it would be a good idea to bring it to you two. We all had a tough day.”

“Thanks Carol.” Daryl took the plates from her hand, cheeks blushed thinking of al the reasons she had to check you were both dressed before finishing going up the tower.

In the middle of dawn Rick came to the tower to take your place, and of course certify you were all good again. You two went back to block C. You walked to your cell, thinking that Daryl was going to his mattress at the stairs. You entered the cell and turned around to see if he was there and was surprised to see him right in front of you.

“You don’t have to Dar…” you said and put your hand on his shoulders. “I understand now, if you want I can sleep outside with you.”

“I ain’t here out of obligation or something, I want to be here with ya. I know ya put a lot of effort at cleaning it.” He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs while his big hands held your face.

“We can let the door open…” you said, you’d do anything so he didn’t feel caged. “If you ever can’t take it, tell me and we’re finding another place for us.”

“Alrigh.” He answered and he could swear after all this months together his heart still skipped a beat when you were so kind to him. “Let’s get to bed, babe.”

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998

Till THE DEAD do us part Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2 @royaltysuite @isakyakiisak @milopenne @celtic-crossbow @mel-wcst @gabriella-aesthetic @duckybird101 @the1eyedmonster16 @iixchloee @daryldixmedown @bloommart

[doctorwenqing]

Chiss Fan Survey 2023

Here's the results of the Chiss fan survey for this year! We had a huge turnout, with 464 responses! Here's a link to the slide deck if that's more accessible for you.

First some demographics: most people surveyed came from Twitter but we also had a pretty good turnout from Tumblr this year!

The majority of people surveyed still came from the United States, but we also had some new countries make it on the map this year.

Most people fell within the 18-34 age range.

As always, I love how Thrawn attracts the autistic audience. Interestingly, the same percentage of people said they’re neurodivergent this year as did last year, but the proportion of them that are autistic grew by about 7%.

Again just a disclaimer that these results are not necessarily representative of the overall Thrawn fan community as I reach a very specific demographic, but over half of the people surveyed are women and almost a third are non-binary. 20% identify as transgender.

About a third of people surveyed are bisexual or pansexual.

Another thing I love is how many people in the community fall under the asexual and aromantic umbrellas. Asexuality is the second most common sexuality reported on this survey.

There’s about 8% fewer single people and 4% more married people than last year so congratulations!

A new question this year is how people's partners feel about Star Wars. For most, it seems they’re the bigger Star Wars fan between them and their partner(s)

Moving on to the actual Thrawn questions, the majority of people surveyed got into Thrawn around 2020.

The spikes on the read/watch order graph show the most popular reading/watch order, so Rebels> Thrawn> Alliances> Treason> Chaos Rising> Greater Good> Lesser Evil> Ahsoka.

Most people had seen Star Wars Rebels and read at least Thrawn (2017).

Over half of people surveyed have read Heir to the Empire, and overall more people report reading Legends than in last year’s survey.

To get the book ranking, I gave each book an average rank based on people's votes and ordered them that way. Thrawn 2017 was by far the most popular of the books.

The most popular choice for a new book book was an "Eli Vanto in the Ascendancy" book.

Despite Ahsoka filling in what happened after Rebels, the percentage of people who are interested in a Thrawn and Ezra Post-Rebels story has not decreased and has in fact increased slightly.

The love for Thranto is very apparent in the ship portion of the survey.

There’s also a good percentage of people who don’t ship Thrawn with anyone, and then OC or selfships are also somewhat popular.

I included a reminder as to what the Thrawn Designs options were. Ascendancy Thrawn was far and away the most popular design for Thrawn. People also liked the 2018 comic version. Least popular was the Heir to the Empire comic design.

Despite what people may have expected, overall Chiss fans were happy with Live Action Thrawn.

In particular, they liked the casting and the dialogue. The most disliked bits were Thrawn’s storyline and inconsistencies with the books.

I also need it to be noted that more than one person wrote in that they liked “how cunty" live action Thrawn was.

Thrawn fans get involved in several different ways

Almost a third have made Thrawn art and 40% wrote something.

Several people went to the Chiss fan meetup this year.

60% of people bought something Thrawn related.

Books was the top item purchased, with over half of people who bought something buying at least one book and most buying several books.

Comics were also popular with the reprinting of the 2018 comic.

Please let me know if you have any questions or would like me to cross-analyze anything!

[archivalofsins]

I'm so late but- I can't believe they just made Amane bad at math canon?!

This was inspired by a conversation I was having with a friend for the most part. Didn't want to get too carried away but love the subtle changes in the minigrams and how they play on the timelines.

That's a D, and even though that's an average percentage in Japan, there's a chance it's not meant to be read that way. Like it can still be average. Average grades are fine but like the difference between this and the timelibe interests Mr.

Because this Minigram comes directly off of the last one with Shidou. A minigram that they also took some creative liberties with for comedic reasons. Yet that one ended with Amane searching for a new teacher not going to find Kotoko like in the original timeline interaction,

20/06/13

Amane: ……what’s wrong, Shidou-san? Your hand has stopped marking. This is mathematics, so there’s no questions about the answers. If I got something wrong, please mark it with an X.

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad……

Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san. I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself? ……please give me back my test. It seems you don’t have the concentration levels required to be my teacher. I’m going to get Kotoko-san to teach me instead.

Shidou: Amane…… I don’t think that’s true. However smart you may be…… you’re still just a child.

In the original timeline convo Shidou states the things he was thinking in the minigram aloud causing Amane to leave. In the Minigram Amane is just left baffled and confused as Shidou seems to fail to understand what her test even says and leaves on her own.

Like we said before, she doesn't state she's looking for Kotoko, just a teacher who seems capable. She immediately disregards Futa as an option. Something also done for comedic purposes.

So the test Amane gives Kotoko to grade in this Minigram is still the mathematics one. Unlike in the portal timeline when the interaction between her and Kotoko is several days after her one with Shidou,

20/06/18

Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this.

Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach.

Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that.

Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

In contrast to the timelibe interactions that happeb a good bit away from each other, the Minigram is more meant to document her starting out bring tutored by Kotoko. Not her falling out with tutors like we see in the timeline. This right here is all about timing.

First, do you notice how in the minigram they stay away from the treat you like a child conversation entirely? Only focusing on how Kotoko likes ambitious people like Amane, the grades, and the need to improve them in this area. That's a stark difference from the original timeline.

Plus, notice how the timeline has Mikoto and Kazui there. Two people she asks for help at different points in the timeline. Well, more so take note of how this minigram uses Mikoto specifically. The Minigram uses him to emphasize and announce to everyone that right now, this isn't about language.

The topic that he and Amane excel in or have a good grasp of,

Q.01 What’s your speciality skill?

Amane: I don’t think I have a particular skill. Would studying count? I’m good at Japanese language.

It's about math. It's still about the math test from the previous Minigram. You know what's not the timeline interaction that takes place five days after she did that test and ended the conversation stating she was going to Kotoko. From how Kotoko and Amane are speaking in the June 18th timeline, it's implied she's been helping her for a minute. She's probably been helping her since what occurred on the 13th with Shidou.

Does anyone here think it would take Kotoko five days to grade a math test? No probably not. So she's more than likely grading a different exam all together.

I believe Kotoko's wording is important in this timeline. Because she says, "Even though you act like this, it's not like you're super brilliant at studying or anything, huh?"

What about the way Amane behaves would imply she'd be good at math or studying?

They even change this in the minigram instead having Kotoko state,

"How do I say this... For the way you act, you aren't a good student, are you..."

Along with the visual, which implies that Kotoko isn't just saying this based of Amane's grade but how Amane reacted to it. She wasn't surorised or upset in fact she seemed like she expected it.

In the timeline, while Kotoko still attempts to find the right words, she's more matter of fact. Even though it's still a question she flat out forgoes saying she's not a good student and states she's not brilliant at studying or anything. Just point blank you're not amazing at this.

If the thing she was discussing here was in fact Japanese language, the thing that Amane says she's good at. That would hurt a lot more than saying it about math something she doesn't state she's good at it. Plus it's be easy to assume she's excel at that based on how she speaks or being like that.

So yeah, that's why I think this is probably a case of two different things being graded. Not her grade being changed. I want to hope for a part three since she took note of what Mikoto said about being able to help with debate and discussion, but who knows.

[arteastica]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (13)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.7k

“I mean, if that’s something you’re comfortable talking about.” You rushed to add, fearing your question might open old wounds. “We don’t have to talk about it if-”

“No, it’s fine. You told me about your family, it’s only fair that I tell you about mine.” His eyes scanned the ceiling, as if trying to find the starting paragraph to a really long, complex story. He then took a deep breath and said: “My father, his beard was always unkempt and so was his mustache.” You chuckled lightly, tickled by the unexpected and rather random beginning he chose for his story. “He disliked loneliness. Not only when it came to people, but also objects. He didn’t like it when things looked lonely. If he passed by a bakery and there was only one loaf of bread left at the end of the day, he would buy it even though we had enough at home. If there was a book alone on a table, he would place it in a group with the others.” If your eyes hadn’t been glued to him the way they were, scanning every inch of his face, trying to read all the sentences you knew he was purposely leaving out of his story, you would have missed the way his lips twitched as they tried but failed to compose a smile.

“He rarely got drunk, but when he did, his habit of bringing lonely things home would only worsen. One time, I woke up in the middle of the night, startled by a noise that to my sleepy 8-year-old self sounded like a woman crying.” He said, as you shuffled against him, having no clue where this story was going. “Scared, I looked out the window only to see my father trying to push a cow inside the house.” You opened your mouth in disbelief. “He said the poor animal was all alone in a field, looking like it could use a friend. The next day, he had a hard time explaining to our neighbors that he wasn’t trying to steal their cow.”

“Well, that alone tells me a lot about him.” You said, the thought of a perplexed, golden-haired boy in his pajamas, and an equally confused thousand-pound cow being forced through a small door in the middle of the night making you chuckle. “What did he do for a living?”

“He was teacher.”

“Let me guess, History.” His eyes widened, head tilted to the side, asking you to explain your deduction as well as the conviction present in your voice. “I mean, that would explain a lot of things, including your love for History as well as all these books.” You said, pointing at the shelves that covered the walls of his room.

“These are not books. The ones in my office are. But these… these are just things I write.”

“All of them? You mean as in journals?”

He nodded before explaining: “Writing helps me clear my head, especially after expeditions. When we come back from a mission, time moves on and so does life, at least for those who survive. But what about those who don’t?” The question seemed to be directed at the air and not particularly at you. “What about those who never make it back home?” He paused for a moment, seemingly letting the taste of those words linger on his tongue like bitter lemon, before continuing. “When my men die out there, they are not really left behind. They are forever immortalized in the pages of these journals. It’s my way of remembering them, of making sure their sacrifice doesn’t go to waste.” Your eyes paced around his room, things slowly taking on a whole new meaning, and you wondered how much anguish and sorrow were trapped in the pages of those journals. “They stay behind and trust us, the living, to go on and find meaning in their deaths.”

You stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace without speaking, but simply, quietly understanding. Understanding that writing was his way of finding meaning, of making sense of it all. Understanding that a scout’s life was never easy, you knew that from the get go, but it was then and there where you finally and fully comprehended the dimensions of the position you held, the implications of the path you had chosen. And, when your vision started to get blurry, and your mind, to wonder if one day you would become a character in one of those dreadful entries, you decided it was time to change the topic.

“So! Your father was a teacher.”

“Yes, and I was in his class.” He paused for a moment, the space he decided to leave between each word, as well as the calmness in his voice, reminding you of trees after a violent rainstorm, battered and partially uprooted, but still standing somehow, or at least trying to. “One day, he was talking about how humanity was forced to take refuge within the walls to protect themselves from the Titans, and how that bought them 100 years of peace.” There was something about his voice that took you back to a rainy day, ten or fifteen years ago, sitting by the classroom window, only that this time your head wasn’t propped on your hand, your pencil wasn’t tapping on the desk, and your mind wasn’t lost somewhere far away, wondering when you would be able to go home. Because this time, the commander was the one speaking, and his voice, while monotonous and gentle, had the spark required to narrate the longest of stories without losing the audience’s interest in the process. A rare skill you had known only one more person to have: Hitch. That, paired with his ability to explain complex things, made you think he would make a great History professor; and you couldn’t help but wonder how different his life would have looked like had he chosen to follow his father’s footsteps.

“In doing so, any records of our earlier past were lost for all of time.” His voice pulled you back to the present, and you nodded, both to signal you were following his story, and to shake the vivid pictures that had started flooding your imagination, vivid pictures of him coming home after work to a warm dinner on the table, to his family, to a beautiful house in some small village or to a cozy cabin in the middle of some quiet forest, instead of this lonely office trapped between walls of cold stone. An alternate reality where he wouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, startled by nightmares of titans tailing behind him, trying to devour him and his men.

“At least, that’s what we’re all taught.” You looked at him, your brow furrowing in suspicion, sensing there was more to this story. He seemed to be trying to decide what he would say next. Or whether to say it at all. And before you could tell him it was okay if he didn’t want to say more, he decided to continue. “I… having doubts of my own, asked my father a question. At first, he evaded answering and ended class as normal. But after we got home, he answered my doubts. He said the history books given by the government were full of contradictions and mysteries.” Something about that last line reminded you of a conversation you had with your own father a while ago, about those government conspiracy theories he was so intrigued by. But you didn’t want to interrupt, so you just nodded and let the commander go on.

“My father continued to tell me more, and even as a child, I was astounded. You see, there’s a reason he didn’t tell that story to the entire class, but I wasn’t smart enough to know.”

“You told the story to someone else.”

He nodded. “To other neighborhood kids. And one day, the Military Police came to question me.” He was looking straight into the fireplace, as if having a staring contest with the flames. Almost as if someone was standing in the middle of the flames, staring back at him, and he wasn’t allowed to break eye contact. You thought about the scenery reflected in his eyes. The blue in his eyes mirroring the bright, red fire, as well as glimpses of an emotion he had never displayed in front of you before. Slight anger, maybe. “My father didn’t come home that day… And I haven’t seen him ever since. He died in some accident in a faraway town. Or so I was told.” He added, sadness scattered around his eyes like stars in the dark night sky.

His words reverberated inside the silent room, spreading across the available space, reaching every corner, and stabbing every inch of your heart in the process. You had somehow deducted his father wasn’t around anymore, so when he started narrating the story you hadn’t expected it to have a happy ending. This, however, was way beyond your imagination. This was downright traumatizing, another level of disturbing for sure. And you felt horrible for asking him to pick at a wound that had barely even scabbed at all. But you also knew that his father hadn’t died in an ‘accident’. “Based on what I knew-”

“The government. He was silenced by the government.” You concluded, words leaving your mouth at the exact same time the thought was born.

He nodded again before continuing his story. “One hundred and seven years ago, humanity that fled into these walls… The king had altered their memories to make them easy to rule. That was my father’s theory.” You had never listened to this part of the story before. It was as if important pages had been ripped off the history books you studied at school. And the whole sensation was very odd. It left your mouth dry and your skin shivering. It was like finding there was an alternate ending to a book you had read a hundred times. One you never knew existed. A darker one.

He didn’t say anything, and you felt he was giving you time to process everything and reach your own conclusions.

“Because if he hadn’t done that, civilization within the walls could never succeed.” You finally said.

“Exactly. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been thinking… Why did my father have to die for nothing more than getting close to the truth?” He asked, and you knew this time he wasn’t talking to the air nor to you, but to himself, his voice and the emotions behind it raising like water reaching its boiling point. “Even those in the government would believe what they’re doing is just. However, I realized one thing about them: What they’re trying to protect is not humanity.”

“It’s their gardens, houses, and land.” You completed the sentence before he could, having lived far too many years around them to know what their most precious possessions are.

“If anyone dares threaten their authority, they’ll be silenced, whoever they are.” The hand that was intertwined with yours tightened its grip on your fingers. “In the end, there was nothing to justify my father’s death. In the end, my father was killed by human greed.” His knuckles went ghost-white. “And by the foolishness of his own son.” Still staring into the dancing flames before him, you noticed he had the eyes of a man whose future resembled a dead-end street. The eyes of someone who was tired of seeing seasons die one after another, knowing that his father would never come home. The eyes of someone who was tired of seeing tomorrow die even before it came. The eyes of someone who spent a whole life dreaming upon days that would never return, dreaming of a person he would never see again. And you wondered if it was his father whom he saw in the flames, or was it a younger version of himself? Or maybe, he saw memories of happier days. Memories of a past he would never be able to go back to, along with scenes of a future he would never be able to move on to. Because his legs remained forever trapped in the heavy muds of regret.

“Before I knew it, my father’s theory became true inside my heart. Now, my mission in life. It’s to prove my father’s theory once and for all.”

You wanted to string together the right words, one by one, until they formed a bridge that would lead you closer to him, so he wouldn’t feel so alone. Because, even though your bodies were pressed so closed together, you could tell his soul was lost somewhere far away, somewhere dark, somewhere lonely. And you knew his father would have hated it for him to feel that way.

You stayed still, silent, and slightly mad at yourself for not being able to say something to him. The night is always dark if no one holds the light, so you wanted to hold it for him. You really wanted to. But you were astounded and overwhelmed by all the information, both about his past and about the reality you all lived in. His father’s theory, if true, would change the world as you knew it. As everyone knew it. A possibility that, if true, would change everything.

In the end you made peace with the fact that you weren’t wise enough to know what to say, and opted for gently wrapping your arms around him instead, pulling him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him as tightly as you could. If you couldn’t tell him, you would show him. If words were beyond your ability, you would make sure actions weren’t. He immediately responded by tightening his arms around you and pressing his nose against the top of your head, where you could feel him breathing heavily. He took such a deep breath that, for a moment, you thought he was going to cry. But no, you knew he wouldn’t, that would be nearly impossible. Because at this point, given the rate of pain he had been enduring for years, at that rate your eyes would run out of tears before your heart could let go of the pain.

As your head rested against his chest, in such proximity to his heart, and as its beating told you more about the pain he had been living with for all those years since his father’s passing, a question popped up in your mind.

“The basement. In Eren’s house. It has something to do with this. Doesn’t it?” You spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Intel suggests that the basement of Eren Yeager’s home in Shiganshina holds a vital secret regarding our enemy. That’s our destination. By getting there, I can prove my father’s theory. I know it.” He held your hand tighter. “I just know it.”

His words carried the exact same conviction they did during meetings when planning strategies or during expeditions when giving commands in the field. Only that this time they were infused with something else, a certain vulnerability. A vulnerability that, along with the violent beating of his heart against your ear, explained to you why he was so committed to the cause. Why he had decided to give his entire life to the Survey Corps. It all made sense now. You understood that it had less to do with freeing humanity from the walls, and more to do with his late father.

As his heartbeat lulled you to sleep that night, your mind became flooded with thoughts of the basement and the secrets that could be hidden there. If there was something hidden at all, in the first place.

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean

[englishsub]

fic writer meme!

i was tagged by @microcomets and @cairoscene :) thank you friendz

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

22, which is both more and less than i expected.

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount?

529,320

3. what fandoms do you write for?

i've branched out in recent years; like my fellow taggers, i write for fewer fandoms that i'm in. food takes ages to cook and even longer to actually commit to. i started with mdzs/cql and tgcf before moving to shl/tyk, though now i mostly write trigun and video game fic.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

爱不释手; never let me go

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near)

花无百日红; the flower that withers

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable

蓝色生死恋; a blue love (to live and to die for)

me 🤝 cair wangxian monopoly

5. do you respond to comments?

not usually - if the comment jumps out in some way or asks a question about podficcing i might, but i generally don't. i read every single one and hold them close to my heart, though.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

LOL it's an open ending but the implications are pretty clear - 美丽的日子; beautiful days

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of them end happy, except when they don't :)

8. do you get hate on fics?

not really. i did for a stint back in 2021 when that anon was going around but it was honestly very funny for me.

9. do you write smut?

sometimes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

just the one time, not usually. it was a threadfic - a mdzs/tgcf crossover where wwx was raised by hualian instead of the jiangs.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah. the good ole ctrl+f+replace of names. i remember they even stole my author's note. i'd said something to the effect of "i have to go study..." (i was in high school) and they added "which i didn't even end up doing..."

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yes and i think fic translation is so cool!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope.

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

EVER?

pirates of the caribbean will/elizabeth.

but it's honestly a rotating rotisserie throughout life of my fav ships depending on what i'm hungry for at a given moment. it's 2024 and i'm back in ff7 hell, for instance.

15. what is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

歃血; blood oath, and it pains me deeply to admit. not because i have any measure of anxiety about returning to it, or feel any pressure, but because it genuinely had one of my favorite premises and setups, was super gory and horrific, and i'd packed in every crazy trope i love into the outline. i was really excited about. then the fandom imploded and i can't look at it anymore.

she's my white whale. i'd finish it for @megafaunatic alone.

16. what are your writing strengths?

atmosphere. payoff. saying things are like other things. i understand this is annoying for some people though, which is fair.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i put off every single sex scene in a fic until i had written everything else, such that i had to sit and write 10,000 words, spread across three scenes, of sex. worst week of my life.

internal logic, because i think it's so obvious in my head that i forget to explain it in words on the page.

i think i always can improve on character voice. that's an eternal work in progress.

18. thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

it's cool. probably good to consult a native speaker if writer of the fic doesn't speak it, though?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

christ. harry potter, by hand, in pencil, in an a5 notebook.

20. favorite fic you have written?

recency bias compels me to say by the time the apocalypse began, because i worked my ass and head off for it, and i ended up really happy with how it turned out. sci-fi's not really my wheelhouse.

i have a huge soft spot for my clj arranged marriage fic, 双命; twin fates, because i had such a blast writing it. and 总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) will always be special to me, because it was like taking a huge, glittering, orgasmic shit.

i believe quite a few people have already been cross-tagged but i will tag you guys again for fun: @yuebings @cafecliche @dcyiyou @vinelark @floofyfluff @ziusik

[olderthannetfic]

One time I was on a discord server, I was in my early 20s (I'm still in my 20s tbf), server for the collecting of a certain item type. Some random drama happened with a user claiming to be abused at home, we tried to help. Girl got kicked because people got too sus about it.

Anyway, because I had been involved speaking to her, one of the mods contacted me in the DMs. Told me about the situation, and I was kinda shocked, so I asked a few extra questions. Call them Mod15

Well another mod then contacted me, and told me that Mod15 was talking shit about me, for asking the questions about the situation, and that Mod15 IS 15!!! I had no idea. That mod was really mad at Mod15 because 1) she didn't like that a mod was just 15 years old. 2) the mod had basically bought themselves into the role by buying the server nitro. 3) the admin didn't do anything/incredibly passive. Let's call that mod: ModP

I showed ModP the conversation with Mod15, and showed her that my talk with him was pretty basic bitch. But man did I fucking feel disgusted by this. I never contacted Mod15, he contacted ME. I deleted my entire talk with him. It was basically just "What happened? Is everyone ok? Do you know if she's ok." that stuff.

Side info: When I joined I also asked if they'd have a NSFW channel, just "because" it kinda was the norm to have one if the hobby had a lot of adults, even if it wouldn't contain anything sexually explicit. So it was made, but there was very little happening all things considered.

Well skip forward a few weeks. We had a vent channel, and Idk how it started. (I still have the screenshots from start to finish somewhere on another discord with a friend, but I'd need to look for them.)

But for some reason we started talking about how minors, who're minors entering the 18+ channel should be kicked from the server. The admin only made the NSFW channel "click to confirm" instead of role based, which is something that was discussed later between him and the mods I was told my ModP later. (Or another Mod I got to know.)

And guess whoms't but Mod15 would freak the fuck out and start an entire thing about it. He said we couldn't demand this blah blah. One argument he had was shit like "Well we see things like these on twitter, so why care if we see it here." and like, because this is a closed space. A lot of that kinda logic, that it wasn't a problem finding 18+ content anywhere on the web, and we shouldn't bitch about it.

Hell even some other minor and a lot of adults said that this was not a good point to make, and that these warnings and channels aren't made to "just keep minors safe", but to keep adults safe as well. And that adults have a right to want spaces where minors can't and won't enter. Anyway, this went on for far too long. I mean I think this thing went on for a few hours. Mod15 also freaked out when someone suggested making it role only.

Mod15 admitted to having entered the NSFW channel, which wasn't the great point he was trying to make, and one of the other adults admitted to having shared some bodypillow designs with Mod15. Which also wasn't a particular flex you'd make tbh.

ModP contacted me in that time, and another Mod, ModT, and they were actually annoyed that the Admin refused to do anything, and still wanted to keep Mod15. They had apparently also tried to make some specific roles before, but Admin just didn't wanna do it. You know, roles that give you identifiers such as "minor, male, female, adult" or pronouns etc.

They asked me if I could talk to Admin, and I did try, but Admin was so fucking passive, he said "Well, the problem was that you had asked about the NSFW channel." Not the fact that a minor decided that this was a free invitation to enter, or that the minor decided he had the random right to contact me about something, and then bitch about me to the other mods. That's when I decided I couldn't deal with this and left, if he couldn't even see how annoying it had gotten. At that point the collection discord had also grown considerably in size, because it got the "official (collectors) server" on reddit as well, and I didn't wanna stick around for the shitshow.

Extra info: The server did have an "introduction" channel, but it didn't have roles to give identifiers. And as probably anyone on a slightly bigger server would know, you start muting a lot of channels quickly. Admin tried to blame me for not checking the channel, in his DMs to me, when at that time there were constantly people joining and I had like half the channels muted to begin with.

--

15-year-olds make terrible mods.

[bettyfrommars]

Stop the World and Melt with You//Eddie MunsonxFem!reader//Part 4

⚠️18+Only, mature themes, eventual smut, slow burn, reader has some anxiety, dread, fear of the unknown, magic, mystery, strangers to lovers, sexual tension, reader and Eddie are mid 20's. Word count: 4k

Series Masterlist

🔸The initial shock has worn off, and the reality of your situation is setting in. More unexplainable things happen, and Eddie takes you to check out the newest addition to Hawkinsgate. The connection between the two of you grows.

Much love to the handful of people who are on this strange adventure with me ❤️

-------

The next day, you didn’t get out of bed for a very long time. When you first opened your eyes around daybreak, you reached up on the nightstand to check the time on your phone, realized it wasn’t there, and then everything came rushing back to you so hard, it knocked the wind out of you. You sat up and looked around, pulling your knees up to your chest, hugging yourself, as the adrenaline rush of the initial shock dissipated and a deep fear of the unknown gripped you.

Even though your cognitive brain was threatening to seize up as it tried to make sense and comprehend whatever the hell was happening to you, there was a strange, calm center at your core that kept whispering that you were right where you were supposed to be, and everything would be okay.

Trust me, the inner voice told you.

But your brain said ‘no thanks’ to that and just kept spinning it’s gears, trying to make sense of something that was beyond its scope of understanding. You could feel a full blown anxiety attack mounting as you sat there, wondering how you were supposed to navigate this freaky place alone.

But you weren’t alone. You had Eddie.

Eddie.

You had this feeling that you didn’t like to rely on anyone else. People flake, people let you down. You couldn’t trust anyone but yourself.

But you had no choice but to let down your defenses here; you had to ask questions, you had to accept help. This was not just any other town—this place was surreal. Another universe, a time jump, a wrinkle in reality.

And if this is what happens when you die, you’re going to be very upset.

After being curled up in a ball under the covers for hours, staring into space, you got up to drink the rest of your water and eat the last of the gas station peanuts that were in your bag. Finding food was the next priority. You put your mind to good use trying to find things you could possibly trade.

You turned the TV on so that you wouldn’t feel so alone, and fiddled with the dial until you settled on an episode of Gilligan’s Island. You sat down on the edge of the bed, directly in front of it, shaking your head at the cheesy, ridiculous, yet comforting, premise of the show. They all ended up marooned on an island and they made the best of it, they survived. The fresh fruit they were eating looked so juicy and delicious, it made your stomach rumble. After a handful of minutes, you stood up to head over and wash your face when you froze in your tracks, your eyes locked on what was in the middle of the floor.

There was a pineapple at your feet.

A pineapple.

Wait.

A pineapple?

It looked perfectly fresh and ripe like it had just been plucked. Hold on--had someone been in your room?? The thought put your nerves on end. You stepped over the pineapple to grab the mace that was on your key ring and aimed it ahead of you as you checked the bathroom. You made sure every space, including under the bed, was empty before you inspected the front door: it was still locked with the deadbolt on.

You spun around to make eye contact with the pineapple again, and the two of you had a bit of a standoff, as people and mysteriously appearing fruit are prone to do.

“Where did you come from?” You squinted, not really expecting an answer. Now, if the pineapple sudden grew lips and spoke to you—your brain would, in fact, short circuit and reduce you to a puddle of goo on the floor.

Thankfully, it was, indeed, just a piece of non-sentient fruit.

You picked the pineapple up to put it on the round table in the front corner, and you were staring at it, wondering if you should eat it or see how much it was worth in trade when there was a knock at your door.

You pulled the curtain back to check from the window first, relieved to see that it was Eddie.

“Long time, no see, sweetheart," he cocked his head, an impish grin on his face.

You couldn’t help yourself, you sprang forward with your arms out and hugged him tight. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” you said into his shoulder, and you meant it.

You made him stumble back a step, but he wrapped his arms around you as well; his head leaning against yours and his eyes closing for a brief moment before you parted.

“Are you busy right now?” he asked, even though he imagined it to be unlikely, he didn’t want to be presumptuous.

With a start, you realized you were wearing nothing but a yellow tank top and shorts pajama set with little goats on them, and tried to hide yourself behind the door.

“Um, nothing at the moment,” you told him.

“Would you like to go for a drive with me? I want to show you something.”

Before he could finish, you were already nodding yes.

He sat outside the door in the walkway on a plastic chair to wait while you got dressed. When you finally opened the door to let him know you were ready, you only had one more question:

“Can I bring my pineapple? I want to keep an eye on it.”

---------

He picked you up in an old blue and white van with porthole windows. He told you that he found the original model abandoned, baking in the sun, and he rebuilt the engine with Gary’s help.

You held the pineapple in between your legs so it wouldn’t get tossed around in the back seat or on the floorboard.

Eddie was impressed, but not entirely surprised, that a tropical piece of fruit appeared in your room.

“Pineapples don’t show up here very often,” he nodded, both hands on the steering wheel. “You could easily trade for a week of food at the diner for that baby.”

“But why was it in my room? How did it get there?”

“How does anything get here?” Eddie made a turn around a bend of trees among tall grasses, and then down a row of mismatched houses. A few were sunken into the ground on one side like they didn’t belong together at all. Some were from the 80’s, a couple were from the mid-century, and then there was an air stream trailer with a few plastic pink flamingos sticking up in the grass outside.

“Who lives there?” You asked, pointing at the trailer.

“No one, I don’t think,” Eddie ducked his head down to get a better look as he drove by. “That one just showed up a few days ago.”

...just showed up…

He looped around to the main road and you ended up in the vast, empty parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned mall. The pavement was cracked and there were tufts of grass sprouting up through the fissures. The building looked almost sunken in on one side like it had literally dropped there from the sky. The glass was broken out in some of the windows, and the name of the mall across the archway was completely shattered.

“Honey, we’re home,” he chirped, looking pleased with himself at the joke.

“Oh, great,” you said halfheartedly, wrapping your arms around your pineapple.

“Stay there,” he told you as he got out so he could go around and open the door for you.

You put one foot out, but he could tell you were worried to leave your pineapple alone, so he took off his jean vest. “Here put it in the back seat and cover it with this. No one comes here. It will be safe.”

You did as he suggested, and then you followed him into the mall.

He pulled out a huge key ring that made him look like a professional janitor. “My uncle Wayne is in charge of the electricity for these new buildings when they appear. This whole place will be open to the public in a few days, but we get first dibs.”

“Open to the public,” you took in the crumbling nature of the building. “You mean it will be a fully functioning mall?”

“Haha, no,” Eddie said as he reached the main double doors. “People can come and trade or bid on things that they want. Clothes, books, you name it. Whatever is in here.”

You thought about that as you entered the big, echoing expanse of the main entrance.

It wasn’t empty though. There were no people around, but you could see through the cracked store windows that most of the shops still had merchandise in them. The clap of your boots sounded loud enough to be tap shoes as they met with the floor, and you reached a big structure that had once been a fountain. There was no water inside of it, but there were still hundreds, if not thousands, of coins at the bottom. A few birds fluttered to the fountain, and you tilted your head back to see the enormous glass skylight above that had been shattered in one part, letting nature in. For a few precious moments there, you weren’t worrying about where you came from, or where you were.

Eddie was watching you; enjoying the stunned look of awe on your face.

“So,” he stepped up close, bumping your arm with his. “What do you want to do first?”

You met his mischievous gaze as a smile crept across your face.

Next thing you knew, the two of you were peddling bicycles up and down the first floor, screaming, giggling, and racing each other. Your bike had blue and white streamers flying out from the handlebars, and Eddie’s was a black and red dirt bike. You rode around the makeup counters by yourself at Macy’s, trying on lipsticks, and taking a few sample packets of face wash and lotion from behind the counter. You both squealed to a stop in front of an arcade, and then Eddie switched the power on while you scrambled in he fountain to fill your pockets with coins.

You beat his score at Pac-Man, and when you turned to stick your tongue out at him to gloat at your victory, he was bent over and his face was close, right at your shoulder, and you were both gripped with a surge of intensity; lips parted, hovering mere inches apart. Your gaze lifted to his chocolate button eyes and he whispered, “beginners luck,” before turning away from you, flustered, jumping back on his bike, waving at you to follow him.

The second floor was home to the food court, and you didn’t dare touch the old, dried up pans of pizza, but there were packaged sandwiches that appeared to be only a day or two old. After a quick inspection of the contents, you both decided you were too hungry to worry about it and devoured them. You grabbed a plastic bag and filled it with sacks of chips, cookies, and some other sealed goods.

Eddie found you staring at an outfit on a mannequin in a store window, and he snuck up behind you, fingers sinking gently into your ribs, and you yelped.

“Go try it on,” he told you, in regards to the outfit. “Take it if you like it.”

“I feel bad taking things from here, for some reason,” you admitted. You didn’t feel bad about taking the food, because it was a necessity, and most of it would go bad anyway, but clothes? They just didn’t seem as important to you in the moment.

“When they open this place to the public in a couple days, people will wipe these stores clean without any hesitation,” he assured you. “Take it. You deserve it.”

You worked your jaw for a few seconds, thinking, and then you were back in the fitting room putting it on. You liked it so much, you put your old clothes in a big, square paper bag with a handle. On your way out to model the new outfit for Eddie, another piece of clothing caught your eye, and you slipped it in your bag, along with a pair of shoes that were your size. You hoped you had an opportunity to wear them down the road.

The places you both spent the longest at were the record store for Eddie, and the bookstore for you. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the light coming through the main skylight was getting dim. Eddie found you around the far aisle, on the floor with a book in your lap, and he showed you the sack of tapes and vinyl he picked out.

“This one is for you, kiddo,” he said with a wink, holding up a blank Memorex tape. “I’ve got some songs in mind I want to put on here fore you.”

“Hey, wait, I got you something too,” you lifted your eyebrows, turning to the stack of items at your side. You picked up the gift and sprang to your feet. It was a black, leather bound journal, and you found a nice pen to clip onto the side of it.

Eddie moved his lips infinitesimally as he looked down, turning it over in his hands to feel the indentations of the embossed cover.

“It’s a journal,” you offered, unable to read his silence. “For when you write music, or whatever.” At the diner, he mentioned that he used to play guitar and write music, but that he didn’t have much time for it anymore.

“You…” Eddie stammered. “You were thinking about me?”

His eyes met yours and your first instinct was to say, “always,” but instead, you punched him playfully in the arm and reminded him that it was getting late and you wanted to check on your pineapple.

-----------

Eddie’s van was still the only vehicle in the parking lot, and you were careful not to trip on the ruptured, split pavement as you carried all of your bags back with you.

Your pineapple was glad to see you. You put it inside of Eddie’s vest and buttoned it up to make it look like the pineapple was a dude in a jacket and the flourish of green leaves was his hair. You held it in the crook of your arm and show it to Eddie, proudly, as you secured the seatbelt across the two of you.

“What should we name him?”

“I can’t give him a name, it will be too hard to get rid of him,” you admitted. “Speaking of trading, is there some kind of supermarket around here where I can buy some groceries?”

Eddie took you to the Family Grocer that was settled into the foundation much like the mall, but it was actually full of cool stuff. Eddie stayed in the van to listen to some of his new tapes, and you took your pineapple son in to the store with you and place him in the front seat of your cart proudly with his vest on.

There were jellies and jams and produce from local farms, but then there was also exotic boxed and canned goods from other countries, labels written in foreign languages. Everything was in designated sections, but also mismatched; no more than two of one certain brand. The deli meats all came from local livestock, and they had a few of those trinket machines by the door. You slipped a few of your quarters in that you took from the fountain and got some fake tattoos for you and Eddie.

You grabbed a few essentials, including some gallons of water and the soda you had been craving, plus some canned goods, and a can opener. You weren’t sure how much the pineapple would get you, so you were cautious at first, but then the girl at the checkout stand called her manager over to show him what you were trading with, and they told you to pick out as much as you wanted.

You assumed that meant within reason, but you went back and got six pack of beer and beef jerky sticks and pink lady apples and some shampoo and conditioner.

You loaded the groceries into the side of Eddie’s van, and then you handed him back his denim vest, and gave him a sad but resigned look. “He was a good boy. He’ll always be in our hearts.”

“Can I cook you dinner tonight, as a thank you?” You asked as he put the van into gear. “I mean, we’d have to go to your place. My motel room doesn’t have a kitchen.”

Eddie hesitated, not because he didn’t like your suggestion, but because his place was a pigsty.

“Or, not,” you cleared your throat, taking his long pause as him not knowing how to tell you no. “I just wanted to...do something nice for you. Since you bought dinner the other day.”

“Oh, I’d love it,” he choked out, not wanting to give you the wrong idea. “Just give me an hour, okay? I need to clean the place up a bit.”

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Eddie gave you directions to the trailer park he lived in, and you caught him frantically sweeping the porch as you drove up. His hair was wet, and he looked nervous, but excited to see you. One trailer over, there was an older man with gray hair on the porch smoking a cigarette, and he lifted a hand to give you a partial wave.

Eddie introduced the two of you. “That’s my uncle Wayne,” he pointed, holding the broom like a guitar. “He’s my neighbor.”

“Oh okay,” you smiled back at him, unable to wave because you had a grocery bag in each hand. “Would you like to have dinner with us?” You called out across the way to him.

“He works the night shift,” Eddie let you know, jumping over the porch to help you carry things, his wallet chain hitting the banister as he vaulted over like a super hero. “But I’ll save some for him.”

Eddie was out of breath, and you could tell he’d been frantically trying to straighten up. There were a couple of empty beer cans on the coffee table in front of the sofa and he rushed to pick them up as you entered.

“Well,” he held his arms out to his sides, fingers clutching the cans. “This is the castle. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

“I love it,” you said, honestly. It was cozy and scattered and so...Eddie. He helped you put things down in the kitchen and you noticed that the drying rack by the sink was full of dishes still dripping wet. He gave you the tour down the hall to the bathroom, but said he preferred not to show you his bedroom just yet because it was a disaster, and you respected that. You stopped to look at a framed photo in the hall that looked it was a 7 or 8 year old Eddie holding a fish up next to a man who resembled a younger Wayne. The frame was made of glued on elbow macaroni.

Eddie exhaled a breath as he leaned his hip against the counter. “Can I help you? Do you need anything?”

You asked him to show you where the pots were as you put some things in the fridge. “Here,” you said, handing him the 6 pack of beer. “Open two of these for us.”

You had a strong feeling you were not a gourmet chef, but you knew how to make spaghetti with red sauce and garlic bread. Eddie tried to give you room by staying in the living room, but he realized that he liked being close to you, and it made him keep circling back through the kitchen to tell you it smelled good or to crack a joke about something that happened earlier in the day at the mall.

At no point during dinner did you think about anything else than who you were sitting across from and the stories he was telling you. Throughout your day, you wondered about things like how you knew how to boil noodles, but couldn’t remember where you grew up or the names of your parents. Had you been raised by both parents? Or maybe an eccentric aunt who lived in a haunted house in the woods?

“I’ve decided I’m just going to make up a past for myself,” you told Eddie, dipping your garlic bread in the red sauce. “I mean, it’s a blank slate, right? So, I figure I can just give myself the life I want.”

Eddie could feel the shift; the moment you stopped trying to get back to wherever you were from and decided you liked being in that moment with him. As selfish as it was: he didn’t want you to go back. He had wanted you to stay from the start, but now he felt like it might rip his guts out if one day you just weren’t there. He didn’t know how it all worked, but maybe if you truly believed that you belonged there, and stopped trying to search for another place, you wouldn’t slip away. There was always a chance. He wasn’t ready to tell you that he knew you before he met you, because he didn’t want it to scare you away.

You were putting the dishes in the sink and loading the rest of the food into mismatched Tupperware containers from the 70’s for Eddie and Wayne, when you remembered something.

“I almost forgot!” You spun around and darted out the door to run to your truck without any explanation, leaving the front door open as you went. It was dark out and the sunset over the trees was a loud pink and orange. A few crickets serenaded you from under the porch.

You slammed the door to your old truck shut and bounced up the stairs with two flat pieces of white cardboard pinched between your fingers.

There were one of each, and you held them up to Eddie who had his arms braced high in the door frame, waiting for you with a curious look. For a second, the way he was standing there made you catch your breath. His shirt had drifted up to exposed the trail of hair above his belt and the glimpse of a tattoo on his lower stomach. Eddie caught you looking and smiled at you, blushing slightly.

“Um,” you made your way over to the door, but then he didn’t move out of your way, he just slid his back against one side of the frame so that you had to share the rectangle opening with him. You kept one foot on the porch and stepped the other into the linoleum floor, smelling his fresh, soapy skin and whatever spicy vanilla shampoo he used. Your knee touched his and you could feel his eyes searching your face as your attention was on the little cardboard envelopes in your hand.

Finally, you met his eyes, “I thought we could both get tattooed tonight.”

You hadn’t opened them to see what the designs were yet, so when the two of you sat down at the kitchen table, you had an idea. “Okay, you pick, and whichever one you get, you have to put it on no matter what it is. Same for me.”

“Deal,” Eddie tilted his chin at you with an air of confidence, not afraid to wear a pink kitten on the skin of his forearm, if that is what it came down to.

Eddie opened his and pumped his fist in the air, triumphantly, happy with his choice.

You opened yours and all of the color drained from your face.

“This must be a mistake,” you whispered.

------

@avalon-wolf 💗

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Okay, so I finally got around to all the responses given for the Random Whump Questions google form I made! Everything is ranked from highest to lowest in terms of what was picked, and the number beside them is how many people chose that option:)

Also, to make sure it's not longer than it needs to be, I'm going to do the open ended questions in a separate post:) Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for that!

One more thing to keep in mind. The 'custom answers' section is where only one person has brought it up. If multiple people have said the same thing, then it will be included in the main answers :)

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Question 1. When did you first discover whump as a term?

A. 15 - 17 (106) B. 11 - 14 (105) C. 20 - 25 (42) D. 18 - 19 (39) E. 26 - 30 (21) F. -10 (4) G. 36 - 39 (4) H. 31 - 35 (3)

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Question 2.

A. Absolutely not (135) B. Some of them do but I prefer to keep it to myself (127) C. I don't try to hide it but not many people know anyway (42) D. Most, if not all of them know - I'm very open about it (10) E. One person knows (4) F. Friends know, family don't (2)

Custom answers: I'm not secretive but I don't explain it because it's hard to, I've never said it but you only need to look at me to know.

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Question 4. Biggest pet peeve when it comes to whump in media?

A. Whumpee miraculously recovers as if they didn't just break three vital bones in their body and get stabbed by the enemy (204) B. Skipping over it and going straight to recovery (165) C. Changes POV's right as it's getting juicy (154) D. Whumpee is too stoic and unphased by what happened (130) E. Too comedic/lighthearted (128) F. Main character(s) die rather than living with what they've done/what happened (127) G. Too much comfort and not enough hurt (80) H. The recovery/captivity is far too unrealistic (77) I. Too much hurt and not enough comfort (62) J. Whumpee is a massive wuss (56) K. All of the above (23) L. The recovery/captivity is too realistic (20) M. Too heavy/serious (16) N. Whumpee is unattractive/not cute enough to me (2) O. Wrong characters are whumped/favourite characters are ignored (2)

Custom written: Obvious medical errors, turns out it was all "just a nightmare!", Caretaker's wellbeing is ignored, Whumpee is rescued right before the whump was about to start, Caretaker never figures out what happened and it's never brought up again, no women, never goes as badly as I want, not enough from Whumpee's POV.

Custom written #2: Whumpee is infantilised during their recovery, no trauma/trauma is overlooked, aftermath/recovery is ignored by a timeskip, Whumpee has no personality apart from being the one who deserves pity for being white and pretty and sweet, caretaker saves the day and it's never brought up again.

Custom written #3: Caretaker saves the day and Whumpee is the perfect victim and there's no conflict ever again, too much emphasis on physical pain rather than emotional, whumper wants love from their whumpees, recovery is too fast and it involves sexual/romantic stuff.

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Question 5. Best thing a whumpee can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "Please- please, no more." (146) B. "It hurts." (142) C. "Please don't leave me." (109) D. "Don't hurt them." (94) E. "Get the hell away from me." (85) F. "I just want to be good." (81) G. "You promised." (71) H. "Am I not enough?" (69) I. "I thought... I thought it was over." (50) J. "You came back!" (49) K. "I was so scared." (43) L. "You will not break me." (36) M. All of the above (19) N. Description over dialogue/I prefer whumpees that are too scared to talk (6) O. Begging (2) P. "I'm fine." (2) Q. "I can't take it anymore." (2)

Custom answers: "Go away" | "It's all my fault, I'm sorry" | "don't touch me!" | "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise" | "don't look at me" | "I don't want you to see me like this" | "fuck you" | just a heartbroken "why?" | "it's fine!"

Custom answers #2: "Nobody is coming..." | "i'm not the same person I was before" | "is this real?" | "I don't want to die" | "why are you helping me?" | Repeating "i'm okay" to themselves while trying not to cry.

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Question 7. Best thing a whumper can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "I wonder how long it'll take to break you." (120) B. "Surely you can take a little more than that, can't you?" (111) C. "Tell me what I need to know and it'll all be over." (111) D. "You're being so good." (107) E. "You're so adorable when you cry." (98) F. "You're mine." (79) G. "Which finger should I crush this time?" (78) H. "I think if you were really sorry, you'd __" (63) I. "This is your home now." (57) J. "At least try to show a little enthusiasm." (49) K. "Please forgive me." (47) L. "You live to please me." (41) M. All of the above (15) N. Prefer no whumpers (7) O. Silent whumpers (3)

Custom answers: "Everything you touch dies." | "I have your whumpee." | "You wanna see something weird/interesting/cool?" | "Get some rest, darling. We'll pick this up again tomorrow." | "Just what do you think you're doing?" | "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

Custom answers #2: Petnames | "It's not personal." | "Nobody's coming for you. Give up." | "This is all your fault." | "You shouldn't have done that, darling." | "You'll be begging soon." | "Maybe some pain/time out/etc. will change your mind." | "It's you or them." | "Go ahead, try to run."

Custom answers #3: "Do it or I'll hurt them." | "This is for your own good." | "This will only hurt a pinch." | "Why do you have to ruin everything?" | "The more you scream, the more I have to hurt you." | "It's for science, Whumpee." | "I truly am sorry about this." | "I love you so, so much. I want to taste you..." | "Good boy."

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Question 8. Best thing a Caretaker can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "I got you." (180) B. "Breathe. Just breathe." (170) C. "What did they do to you." (154) D. "Hey, I'm here, okay?" (152) E. "Lie down, okay?" (107) F. "I'm gonna get us out of here." (107) G. "When was the last time they fed you?" (97) H. "Lay a hand on them and see what happens." (88) I. "Don't hurt them." (83) J. "I'm sorry but this is in your best interest." (66) K. "I will not rest until I find who did this." (41) L. "Don't cry." (32) M. All of the above (26) N. Any sort of medical talk (2) O. No caretakers (2)

Custom answers: "Don't touch them!" | Pet names in general | "Just relax. It's all over." | "Don't fucking touch them." | "It's not your fault." | "Hold still" while tending to wounds | "Almost done | Just hold on." | "Hey... not so fast." | "Just look at me, okay?" and then proceeds to gently explain what the medical procedure entails | "You're safe now." | "Please believe me?"

Custom answers #2: "May I see? I promise I won't hurt you." | "Whoa, hey, calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you." | "Shh, you're safe now. It's okay. I'm not leaving." | "Who did this to you?" | "Take this, you'll feel better." | "Shh, I know it hurts" to a squirming whumpee | Anything as long as there's physical touch to go with it | "Stay with me, okay?" | "You need to stay awake for me." | "Leave them alone!"

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Question 9. What role do you think you'd play in a whump story?

A. Whumpee (87) B. Caretaker (52) C. Side character (44) D. Caretaker-turned-whumpee (32) E. Whumpee-turned-caretaker (22) F. Whumper (16) G. Whumpee-turned-whumper (14) H. Whumper-turned-whumpee (11) I. Whumper-turned-caretaker (10) J. Caretaker-turned-whumper (8) K. Caretaker or whumpee (6) L. Carewhumper (3) M. None/I don't insert myself into scenarios (2)

Custom answers: Narrator, all of the above depending on my mood, side character.

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Question 11. Favourite place to consume whump? (not including movies/tv shows/games/etc)

A. Tumblr (294) B. AO3 (212) C. Pinterest (62) D. Fanfiction.net (23) E. DeviantArt (8) F. Wattpad (4) G. My brain (4) H. All of the above (3) I. Youtube (3) J. Character.AI (2) K. Discord (2) L. My brain (2) M. Twitter (2)

Custom answers: Sketch book, google,

Other notes: Someone also gave @whumplovers-collaborate a mention, saying they've been on that server for over a year and that it's amazing.

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Question 12. Pick a whumpy anime out of the ones I've watched (so far)

A. Castlevania (51) B. Black Butler (43) C. Bungou Stray Dogs (43) D. Banana Fish (35) E. Vanitas No Carte (19) F. Black Bullet (5)

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Question 14. How old does a whumpee need to be to be considered an "older whumpee"?

A. 40+ (127) B. 34 - 37 (68) C. 30 - 33 (51) D. 38 - 39 (38) E. 26 - 29 (18) F. 22 - 25 (2) G. 18 - 21 (0)

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Question 15. Pick a character that I think needs to be whumped more.

A. Link (The Legend Of Zelda) (96) B. Tony Stark (The Avengers/Iron Man) (64) C. Vanitas & Noe (Vanitas No Carte) (47) D. Joel Miller (The Last Of Us) (45) E. Hosea Matthews (Red Dead Redemption 2) (5)

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Question 16. Do you prefer hystorical whump or modern whump?

A. Modern (220) B. Hystorical (82)

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Question 17. Do you prefer hurt or comfort?

A. A healthy combination of both (163) B. A little bit of comfort, lots of hurt (81) C. Hurt (44) D. A little hurt, lots of comfort (28) E. Comfort (8)

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Question 19. Favourite species to whump?

A. Human (290) B. Immortal (118) C. Vampire (105) D. Demon/angel (87) E. Werewolf (57) F. Robot/android/cyborg (54) G. God/deity (49) H. Birdpeople (48) I. Merfolk (44) J. Tiny (38) K. Catpeople (26) L. Alien (19) M. All (16) N. Humans with inhuman/magical abilities (5) O. Giant (2) P. Elf (2) Q. Lab subjects (2) R. Species isn't important (2)

Custom answers: Shapeshifter, hybrics, faefolk, winged whumpees, dhampir, superheros, dwarves, mobian.

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Question 20. Pick something to restrain your whumpee with.

A. Chains (104) B. Rope (101) C. Handcuffs (38) D. Zipties (31) E. Your belt (18) F. A piece of their own clothing (18) G. Your tie (6)

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Question 22: Your whumpee bites you. What do you do?

A. Put a muzzle on them. You're not mad, but you need to keep yourself safe (119) B. Beat them until they learn their lesson (82) C. Have a rational conversation with them once they've calmed down about why it's wrong and how to stop it from happening again (61) D. Get checked for some kind of desease. Who knows what they've been carrying (25) E. Ignore it and hope it doesn't happen again (8)

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Question 23. A whumpee shows up at your door, terrified and scared. They beg for your help. What do you do?

A. Let them in and give them some food. You can worry about what you're gonna do with them later on (273) B. Keep them prisoner. Whump their to your heart's content (31) C. Slam the door in their face (4)

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Taglist: @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @let-the-whump-commence @pigeonwhumps @rule-masochism @whumperofworlds @whump-space @wollemi-whump

[eddiessidegirl]

Small Moment

Summary: Reflecting on your relationship and cuddles with Eddie

Pairing: Caregiver!Eddie x little!reader

Warnings: Standard 18+ for my blog. This is a fluff piece, very self-indulgent. Mentions of CGl dynamic, use of pet names and feelings of insecurity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 775

A/N: I’m sorry it’s short but I like how it turned out, and it’s where my headspace is right now. Please enjoy!

MetalheadMunson is typing…

You wondered what the two of you were going to talk about tonight, your subjects always varied. From music to movies and books and everything else in between. Eddie has messaged you first, noticed you 6 months ago in a subreddit for Hawkins; lamenting about the lack of anywhere good to eat and listen to real music. The two of you clicked instantly, and you’d become fast friends. It didn’t take long before you met in person, the local diner to be exact. From then on you talked day and night, in person and online. You learned he liked anything 80s metal and 90s grunge, Eddie tolerated your Taylor Swift and 80s synth preference, but secretly you think he enjoys it. Both of you love horror movies, many nights spent watching slashers and gory films cuddled up on the couch.

The only thing that had taken awhile for you to tell him is about how you coped with your trauma from childhood by regressing and doing childlike things like coloring, playing with stuffies and sleeping in your cute dinosaur PJs. Eddie came across your mountain of stuffies and the crayons one day after 4 months and asked about it. You’d been scared to tell him, worried he’d think less of you. But he didn’t. In fact he scooped you up and plopped down on your bed demanding you tell him everything. And you did, for 2 hours, he asked genuine questions and said he’d be willing to try, which he did ever so wonderfully.

Your screen dinged, taking you out of your thoughts.

‘Princess?’ This followed a few other messages from Eddie, tell you about a date he had planned and some more concerned ones when you hadn’t replied. ‘Earth to my little one’

You smiled, ‘m’here, sorry Daddy, got distracted…’

‘Need me to come over?’

‘Yes please’

Not 20 minutes later you could hear his van coming down your street. You’d changed into comfy clothes and met him at the door. Opening it before he could knock. His face beaming when he saw you. Large hands cupped your cheeks and placed small kisses on your forehead, nose tip followed by your lips. “Let’s go to the couch, munchkin, you can tell me what’s got my girl all preoccupied.”

Following behind him, you waited for his body to be on the cushion before making your way onto your ‘throne’ aka his lap and nestled in. His face nudged your neck, inclination for you to talk.

“I dunno. Just got in my head a little, thinking about us and how you put up with me and my…little-side” you’d always struggled with your self worth and why a guy like Eddie would wanna be with you. Women in town would kill to be with him. Especially since he was a few years older than your 25, 5 years to be exact, eddie being 30 meant women were throwing themselves at him trying to get the local bassist to settle down. But for some reason he picked you.

“Oh, sweetheart, baby…” he crooned softly, pressing kisses to your cheeks, soothing you by rubbing your forearm, “no, it’s ok I don’t ‘put up with you’. I’m with you because I love you and I wanna take care of you.” He rocked you side to side quietly shushing you, butterflies erupted in your tummy. “As for you being little, it’s what make you, you. You’re special and wonderful and it’s something I cherish about you. You trust me to take care of you.” His long hair tickled your cheeks as he nuzzled your face. “I couldn’t be happier to be your Daddy.”

One more kiss was pressed to your temple, your worries soothed for now. Warmth flooded through you, he always knew exactly what to say when you needed it. Now you had just one thing on your mind, “Daddy, can we watch Onward?”

“Of course, Princess, whatever you want.” With a light squeal and giggle, you settled into his chest, never even making it more than 30 minutes into the movie before you were sleeping in your protectors arms. He on the other hand was engrossed and happy just to be with you

“Of course, Princess, whatever you want.” With a light squeal and giggle, you settled into his chest, never even making it more than 30 minutes into the movie before you were sleeping in your protectors arm. He on the other hand was engrossed and happy just to be with you.

“Of course, Princess, whatever you want.” With a light squeal and giggle, you settled into his chest, never even making it more than 30 minutes into the movie before you were sleeping in your protectors arm. He on the other hand was engrossed and happy just to be with you.

PLEASE SUPPORT WRITERS ON TUMBLR BY COMMENTING, REBLOGGING AND LIKING; ITS HOW WE FIND NEW READERS!🖤

[dailycass-cain]

Birds of Prey #2 continues off the highs of #1 as it continues the story. But what of Cass within it? Well, here are my thoughts on the issue pertaining to Cass.

So the opening pages feature a flashback with Sin and Dinah which makes me feel really old honestly. Given the last time we saw Sin was quite some time ago (Gail Simone's last run on BoP before the dark times. Before the New 52).

But this flashback feels more akin to near when Gail's first run on BoP was wrapping up. We get a "Pokemon" mention (Sin did love those and even got Barda ironically on them. Those who know well tie into why Barda is fully into helping Dinah with this).

So it's clear writer Kelly Thompson knows her history and even acknowledges that the League of Assassins wants Sin (who were in the first issue).

However, not acknowledged is well on the "why".

With all the weaving she's doing, in this issue (and last). I just feel it makes more sense as to "why" Cass and Barda's reasons for helping Dinah are more clear than say Zealot's (I still want to see this story with her and Dinah) and Harley.

Though if we take this as "years" ago, boy howdy does this open a can of worms with Cass's age again. Like, prior to the New 52 and Cass's reintroduction, she was like possibly in her early 20s (same age as Jason Todd).

Then the New 52 came around, and she was 18. More closer to the age group Duke/Tim/Steph/Harper were in this era for sure. So that bit is confusing in this current DC landscape where she could be in her early 20s again or not.

Eh, this is just me overthinking the history angles anyway. So it isn't too worrisome. 😅 But I do like these nuggets that with characterization Thompson is laying the seeds for long-time readers to enjoy. While letting new readers just enjoy this ride.

This issue is another enjoyment. There's just so much good going on in this issue. Besides the stuff with Dinah, we get a better reason for what Harley brings to the team, interaction with her and Zealot.

Speaking of that, Harley lets slip this issue she "sorta" fought with Cass compared to what we got the last issue. So maybe Cass was just a "bad storyteller".

So who said Cass jobbed "hard" to Harley, well maybe it was more Cass's impression on the scuffle that led her to respect Harley's chaotic nature.

Unlike ANOTHER story in another DC comic last month that had Cass jobbing...

But the stuff with Cass this issue is sprinkled lightly. Unlike the hearty amount last issue, we get pieces and I'm okay with that.

This is a team comic, not a duo ongoing that-- I sorely miss.

ahem*

But the stuff we got here is gold with the slight amount we get. Just more Cass/Barda goodness (which is obvious Thompson knows is gold). More glorious art and fight sequences drawn by Leonardo Romero.

Like the teleportation between Dinah and a surprise guest star (so close to a Spirit World reunion), Barda/Cass, and Zealot/Harley all converging was sweet.

The other most interesting thing I have to say pertaining to Cass is how she still hasn't unmasked in the series. It feels different to see Cass unmasked in Batgirls 😭and Spirit World.

Here?

She's all business. Kinda very Bruce-like even. It's a little refreshing.

I also dig her web suit in the issue basically being her Batgirl suit with an oxygen mask and backpack. With zero capes on her back to cause harm.

So even though she didn't do much, this still was a fun appearance. Not awing like the last issue, but again this is a team book.

Zealot and Harley needed this issue. Along with Dinah being the singular focus in this arc. I can dig it.

Birds of Prey #2 continues the plot and gives us a tiny bit of Cass to wet our appetites for the next issue: her vs. Amazons.

No off-screen being beat. We gonna get her facing Amazons ON PANEL with WAAAAAY better characterization in the next few issues.

SWEET.

Again, I'm really enjoying this series and really curious about the twists and turns this goes down as it continues. I have curious questions not pertaining to Cass (like Future Maps and her story), and again Zealot/Dinah.

But this is some good stuff.

[colorfulandblack]

Ok, serious question time gang

Sean is the youngest of the circle members right?

I mean Auntie Bee is the oldest of them that's a fact. And at first I though that maybe Nathaniel was second when it came to age because he was a lieutenant but then I remembered that because he came from money it's pretty certain that he had this position bought so it doesn't mean necessary that he'd be old or older.

However, I cannot imagine putting an somewhat barely an adult in charge, back in the day of the beginnings of the war. Or during the war. I think that when he enlisted he was an adult at least meaning he was over 18.

It is possible that Dr Jean is second in age since she is a doctor and I imagine she graduated university and her studies and if the wold of Newfaire is at least a little like the 1900 then she must have been 18 when she graduated if not older and then she had some practice. She did mention that she either learned or rather put her learned skills to use during the war in the trenches.

Those facts would put both Nathaniel and Jean in their early 30 I'd say? Or just turned 30? Also, their character are just much more authoritative which may came from their position in society and profession but it just fits that sort of age. We know that Nathaniel was younger sibling but we do not know how much younger he was from his brother that drowned so that doesn't give us much perspective.

Then Marion. He said that he tagged along with Sean and his brothers Tony and Jimmy all the time. That would put them similar in age. That being said through I'm almost certain that Sean was the youngest of the siblings and we know for a fact that he enlisted illegally when he was 16. I'm assuming and knowing his character he did so because his brothers also enlisted. Which leads me to think that maybe Marion was closer in age to Sean's siblings even if it were by 2 or 3 years because he just doesn't strike me as a person that would enlisted illegally. Unless if course he saw Sean doing a big stupid and decided that someone has to keep an eye on him.

But even if they all (except for Auntie Bee) were of similar age there could be 2-3 or more age gaps between them. And we know, we KNOW for a fact that Sean enlisted ILLEGALLY.

Also, this is a shot in the dark but notice how Auntie Bee sort of feels like a motherly figure to Sean. She said that she promised his mother to keep an eye on him. If Sean and Marion has been friends from young age and if Auntie Bee knew Sean from way before the Candela can means two things. One, which is quite reasonable, that she doesn't feel that Marion needs as much protection and attention because he's more reasonable of the two (although very protective of Auntie Bee, the amount of bleed he took for her and she does treat him almost like a son) or TWO, she did made a promise to Sean's mother to keep an eye on him not only because he's a impulsive idiot but also he is simply young.

Brennan said that Sean is in his mid twenties, we don't know how long was the war but if it is based on Great War that means it lasted 4 years (at least!) I'm saying at least because if Sean enlisted at the beginning that would put him at 20 and if he enlisted later he'd be even younger.

Now come to think of it I might be stupid but I though I remembered that in Chapter 1 it was said that the war lasted a decade? I'm not sure, someone let me know so I can fix it but either way that would put Sean at 26.

So yeah, unless we know more in my mind Sean is the youngest of the Needle and the Thread.