#they would so use pet names with each other

[anantaru]

HSR + HE TEACHES YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, boothill, dr ratio, sunday x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — inexperienced! reader, slightly possessive ?? hsr men, dirty talk, pet names used: baby, good girl, oral (male! receiving), cowgirl, dom ?? but veritas is mean, slightly possessive sunday (he's a little weird, am i right guys?)

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱

aventurine doesn't know what to do with himself other than receive your warm, innocent tongue with open arms, his fleeting gaze radiant like jewels and focused on your mouth splitting so effortlessly when he finally inserts himself between your plush lips.

"please— look at how excited you are," his words made you shudder, although desires and excitement also furnished your mind. it was all there— his handsome voice, his musky scent, the salty taste on your tongue and for you, the new flavor felt weird, yes, slightly bitter when you swallow down.

but aventurine's cock repeatedly rolling over your tongue over and over began to taste like in the most delicious, toe curling way imaginable.

he was thickly warm on your tongue, and heavy, making your jaw slack with ease, "put it in your mouth like that, yes, ahh yes, just like that baby," as you begin to move your head up and down with the help of him, heating him from the inside out.

the little flicker of your tongue intrigued him— the slow, wet susurration of slurping that was sloppy and without a precise way of doing it; but wow, you're so good at this, looking flawless between his legs with a slip of his shadow on your innocent silhouette.

when wicked of lust, his amused eyes smile down at you, grunting inside his hot and bothered chest with your mouth tightly pressed against his shaft before you suckle up again, hollowed cheeks staying content.

aventurine leads you, and tells you to be slow, take your time.

he wants to teach you on how to suck his dick, for possible future needs— because hey? he surely hopes this won't be the last time he would be able to do this with you. not when he can barely wait to touch, stroke and lick you himself.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱

boothill mentally congratulates himself for keeping his carnal desires in check and sliding himself slowly inside, gruelingly slow that it drove you into insanity.

not to forget on how difficult he found it to hide his visible excitement that you wanted him to be your first, the first person to fill you up with a cock, a thick and hefty cock.

your muscles immediately twitch and the insides of your thighs tense, your body snapping in all the right ways.

"ahh, yeah, good girl, such good girl for me," he slurrs in desperation of wanting more, just more of this, more of you— and oh? what sweet victory to get a literal galaxy ranger to say that out loud.

his eyes glimmer like diamonds as the constant pulse of your walls clamp into his erection, he could no longer think beyond the next touch.

boothill was supposed to be the experienced one out of the two of you yet you make it so intoxicatingly difficult for him to stay focused.

he gasps, arched his back and presses deep, stroking your insides back and forth, coaxing in perfect time with caressing kisses all over your face, "the sound you just made when i slipped it in, ugh, you can't be real," boothill whispers and hisses when you squeeze him, your toes curling at the new feeling of a heavy weight bulking in you, like it's about to reach your belly.

"i'm so lucky i can call you mine," he kisses your bottom lip and focuses on your face— your dizzying and addictive expression that he hoped would be decorated with drool and sweat all over after he's done with making you feel good.

ah well, the man knows it won't take much for you to cum all over him, you're already glistening and showing him how wet you are with the amount of slick sousing your folds and his shaft each time he pulls back, only to snap in all the way inside.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱

"you wanted me to teach you on how to ride me, didn't you?" between your sobs, you manage to huff out a small shut up in an attempt to take away the attention of veritas deliberately holding you down his cock by your hips cruelly.

no sobs, no whines and aims to reason with him seemed to work in your favor nor displayed any form of you actually getting your way.

"i'm not, I mean, i said that but—," a shaken moan departs from your throat when he bottoms out, this time clearly, smirking when your tits move in harmony with his movements.

"now, why are you squirming like that then?" he continues, allowing you to feel him pulse and throb before holding you down entirely.

"you can't take it after all, can you?" with need, you attempt to bounce on him, turning utterly sensitive by the intensity of his cock swelling everywhere, no single inch of your walls left untouched.

you nod and place your hands against his chest as veritas suddenly makes you fall forward by another shove up into your cunt, your tits pressing against his stone-hard chest.

he looks at you through hooded eyes, his jaw clenched as he enjoyed watching the effect he had on you, then he fucks and fucks and fucks into you three times in a row— reckless, daring, blind to reality, making your arousal come out all the more consistent, "oh, you do? you sure?"

"yes I am, ugh, fuck, veritas just let me move already," you bark back, your body convulsing in near-pain and much relief when he rubs your walls over his shaft again. like a second heart beat between your legs, your walls flutter around his erection as you feel your blood rush to every edge and limit in your body. 

"you look a little tense sitting on my cock like that," his hands squeeze your waist as he says it so confidently, in a way that would make you want to smack that pretty, stupidly handsome expression off of him.

but right now, you do not mind, you can always get revenge on him later because even after the slight bickering from before, now he holds you against his chest in a deep embrace.

it's strange, yes, but it feels real.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱

"hey, please," sunday mumbles sincerely as his palm strokes over your trembling thigh, "you're so pretty, don't avert your eyes from me now," and he's awfully good at keeping you in place, holding your legs up just right while telling you to always keep them wrapped around his waist.

it feels better this way, when you practically hold me in like that is what he whispers into your ear the entire night— it's scarcely an audible tone but it's there, right against your lips, the vibrations of his angelic groans alone reaching all the way to your wet cunt.

"you feel so good around me, you know that?" he rolls his hips tentatively, swallowing the saliva in his throat as his hips jerk faster each time you moaned louder.

every single moment when a faint whimper of his name rolls from your tongue, sunday loses a slice of his sanity.

with great effort, he does the most to make you feel insanely well, finding himself entranced by the silkiness of your walls and how easy it was to slip inside you, your slick and sweat streaking your skin and practically inviting him to absolutely ruin you— until your innocent, never touched before, body would take over the musk of him.

it's a perverted fantasy, yes, but sunday needs you to be his.

after this night, he wouldn't want anybody to touch you other than himself. your moans were like an aphrodisiac to him, a drug that felt so good that it made him go feral, rock his hips faster and pinch your pulsing clit until you're creaming all over his shaft.

only then, he will teach you more, perhaps on how to suck his dick later or how you should rest your legs against his shoulders when he goes down on you— fuck, you're just so precious, clenching all over him.

your doe eyes flutter up at his own welcoming ones, and he makes you keep the eye contact until you see it, until you can see into his mind, the one his reality dwells in.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lcvclywon]

teaser 𓍯𓂃 SO HIGHSCHOOL | ot7 series

back to masterlist

taglist ── open! until 29/5/2924 send an ask or comment to be added! | @floweryang @cupidhoons @ak-aaa-li @yvjw @xiaoderrrr @jlheon @junislqve @roastandtoast @un06 @lilyuwon @bywons @venn-ie @yongbokified @jwsdoll @tobiosbbyghorl @laurradoesloveu @chaehyunloveeee @shawnyle @en-gelic @hwangism143 @bbinwrld @deffnotnia

DISCLAIMERS! i'm not trying to sexualize enhypen nor any other idols, this is a work of fiction. I do not actually view them like this in real life. Please do not copy nor plagarise.

thoughts frm yuya 💭 ack !!! blurb + announcement post finally out hehe >< each fic will be realllyyyy long so please do be patient with the posts TT Jay one will prob release first! I'll be releasing them throughout June + July so make sure to stay tuned for each post !! I will not be making separate taglists for each story unfortunately. Also huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookies @cupidhoons @bywons and @wonfilms for all the help on this, they legit helped me develop so many of the stories so i'm so grateful for that ^^ anw hope u guys are excited as I am about this !! (also apologies the header pics look so ass....all my design ideas were gone)

You know how to ball I know Aristotle | LEE HEESEUNG

READ HERE

where...

You hate heeseung. You hate his toothy grin, you hate his obnoxiously loud laugh, you hate his roaring athleticism, and you've hated his guts ever since he dropped you in grade 7 for those stupid basketballers. Ever since then Lee Heeseung has never held a place in your heart, every waking moment you spent in the same building with him you were filled with sheer pettiness. But when your broadcasting club leader hands you an offer you can't refuse, can you put aside your differences for once and work with him?

pairing ── heeseung x female reader

genre ── forced proximity, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, popular basketball player x broadcasting club

wc ── est 12k or more

warnings ── cursing, heeseung lwk a dickhead, kissing, alcohol, underage drinking, fighting, they're both kinda evil

release date ── tba

So tell me, who else is gonna know me? | PARK JONGSEONG

READ HERE

where...

Park Jongseong and Baek Y/N: the two biggest names in Decelis and two richest. Jay knew he would be bringing a date to his brothers wedding at the end of the school year, but he didn't expect that partner to be you of all people. After a small white lie Jay finds himself entangled in a rouse to fool his parents that you and him are now dating. This however seems to be a bigger blessing than you realise. While both using each other as pawns you find yourself "dating" Jay until the wedding; but as a four day trip ensues feelings change, lines get crossed, and walls come down.

pairing ── Jay x female reader

genre ── fake dating, childhood connection, rich kid au, one bed trope, slight angst

wc ── est 17k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, slight suggestiveness if you squint?, both of them are lwk nepo babies, slight familial issues, mentions of food, mentions of weddings, pet names

release date ── tba - maybe sometime this month ?

Everything comes out of teenage petulance | SIM JAEYUN

READ HERE

where...

Sixth grade, that was when you first laid eyes on Jake Sim and you swore in that moment were what the poets called: lovestruck. Ever since that day you've been harbouring a massive crush on your older brothers best friend, a crush that would never be reciprocated unfortunately. However this was a fact you've learned to come to terms with. But in the midst of Junior year, when your physics grades are at the cusp of failure, your parents suggest Jake to help tutor you. When your repressed crush seems to resurface, you may not be as hopeless as you seem.

pairing ── Jake x female reader

genre ── brothers best friend x reader, forbidden romance, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, age gap of like 1 year (jake is a senior and YN is a junior I SWEAR ITS NOT WEIRD), taesan as the older brother and hes protective as shit please bear with that, inspired by hidden love obv

release date ── tba

I died on the altar waiting for the proof | PARK SUNGHOON

READ HERE

where...

Following your parents death you abruptly are forced to move to Jinhae to live with your aunt. You love your life in Jinhae working in your aunts cafe, your life was quiet. However that was all until Park Sunghoon showed up one day, out of the blue, completely unannounced. To make matters worse he ends up having to work with you at your aunts cafe. Everything resurfaces: both the fond memories and nasty ones. Can you manage to work peacefully with each other both at work and school, or will your unresolved feelings threaten to strain your already troubled relationship.

pairing ── Sunghoon x female reader

genre ── exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, workplace romance (? kinda), forced proximity, misunderstandings, angst, small town romance

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, sunghoon and yn being at each others throats, they're both kinda evil to each other, a lot of misunderstandings, pet names, parents death, mentions of grief

release date ── tba - maybe early next month or late this month

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh | KIM SUNOO

READ HERE

where...

Sunoo and YN. Everyone knew both your names went hand in hand with each other since preschool. Sunoo always made it clear how much he liked you, that perhaps might've been the downfall of your relationship in highschool. After his incessant confessions you learned to grow indifferent to his quick pickup lines between lessons. You don't like Sunoo like that, you'll never be able to see him like that. But when he suddenly starts dating Seol Yoona, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy strike your heart. However with the help of Jungwon you hope to solve the conflicts straining your relationship.

pairing ── Sunoo x female reader

genre ── soulmates au, grumpy x sunshine, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, second lead syndrome

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, yn is kinda evil and sunoo is way better than me fr i would have dropped her, sunoo also kinda desperate tho, kinda ? using jungwon as a pawn, fighting, slight angst, pet names

release date ── tba

You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? | YANG JUNGWON

READ HERE

where...

1st rank: Choi YN. You could always trust that your name would be top of the list all. the. time. That was until highschool at least when you transferred to Decelis for higher academic challenge. However what you didn't expect was for said higher academic challenge to come in a teenage boy with annoyingly deep dimples. Yang Jungwon. Student council president and your sworn rival since the moment you stepped into Decelis. With you two being top students, president and vice president, and not to mention the two top debaters in school, it was safe to say almost every aspect of your highschool life revolved around beating Jungwon. But when you are forced to work with him in debate for nationals, you find yourself truly questioning why you hated him to begin with.

pairing ── Jungwon x female reader

genre ── academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, top student x student council president

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, loosely based off of Ann Liangs 'If you could see the sun', some fighting, yn and jungwon at each others throats all the time, theyre kinda hella mean to each other, mentions of anxiety, academic pressure

release date ── tba - mid of june maybe?

Fuck it if I can't have him | NISHIMURA RIKI

READ HERE

where...

Riki Nishimura had a reputation: an all round bad influence, bottom of his class, and had more absences than presences flooding his attendance card; everyone believed he was a lost cause. So imagine your surprise when you and and him were sitting side by side at the principals office while he explained the new tutoring program that would be set in place for him. Well now there was another thing to add to his reputation: YN's student. Reluctantly accepting the proposal you find yourself entangled in RIki's complicated life. While getting to know each other more and more, you realise there's more to Riki than meets the eye.

pairing ── Niki x female reader

genre ── trouble maker x goody two shoes, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious, student council president x bad boy, he falls first you fall harder

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, smoking, drinking, fighting, mentions of injury and cuts, riki lwk being a little shit at the start, teacher involvement/meddling, YN under a LOT of pressure

release date ── tba

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names And Airplanes

When a very sleepy Paige lets out some interesting noises, you find that the lines of your friendship have blurred considerably.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Based on this request: I have a request but it's not fully thought out but all the traveling she's been doing has got me thinking. Basically Paige x friend where there's some tension emotionally and physically but neither of them know it rlly. Paige is groggy bc they had to catch an early flight to go somewhere and while sitting next to each other on the plane, her mind starts wandering and she accidentally says smthg dirty out loud to the reader which obviously leads to a build of tension on their flight that they end up having to deal with. How they deal w it and such can be up to you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: friends to lovers, one bed trope!, slightly inappropriate behavior

I'm thinking about doing a second part to this.

Please send more requests, you guys always have the best ideas omg

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

If there was one thing undeniable about Paige Bueckers, it was that she really loved her friends. Some in different ways than others, as you would come to learn. 

Growing tired of Paige’s incessant whining about missing Nika, who was now in Seattle playing for the Seattle Storm, you had purchased tickets to a game for her.

You had surprised the tall blonde one evening when the two of you were lounging on her couch, absentmindedly watching a random romcom. Paige was tracing small circles on the soft skin of your forearm, and you had figured it was as good of a time as any to break the news. 

“Paigey,” you murmured, grabbing her attention from the screen. “I know you’ve been missing Nika, so I got us tickets to go see her play in Seattle on Saturday.”

Before you can go into details, Paige is launching herself into you, and whispering thanks over and over again into the crook of your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over, as you feel the warmth breath of her gratitude fan against your skin. 

“We’re leaving Friday morning. It’s an early flight, so you better get your ass to bed early that night,” you say with fake mockery. Paige could not wake up early to save her life, whilst you typically preferred to be in bed by 11. 

“You’re the fuckin’ best, princess,” Paige mumbles, her face reddened by more than just your teasing. She is still hiding in your presence, and the closeness makes your heart speed up. This wasn’t the first time, and it surely would not be the last. 

Paige just had that effect on you.

~

Thursday evening rolls around, and you decide it would make more sense to spend the night at Paige’s apartment to save time in the morning before catching your flight. You stroll through the door and your gaze is immediately drawn to chaos. The apartment was in ruins with shit scattered everywhere. 

“P!” You call out, trying to figure out where your friend was hiding. “This place is a fucking disaster. What happened?”

Paige emerges from her room with a sheepish smile on her face. “Couldn’t figure out what to wear,” she shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You need to clean this shit up. I’ll pack.” Your voice is laced with disapproval, but the fond smile on your face gives you away. 

“Thanks, princess,” Paige beams, and your heart falters once more.

That nickname would be the cause of a future arrhythmia, and it was not going away. Paige had called you ‘princess’ one evening while she was drunk. And it had just stuck. She rarely called you by your name anymore, and you were so okay with that. The term of endearment was now the object of all of your fantasies. You had spent an embarrassing amount of nights in your bed with a hand between your legs, imagining Paige on top of you whispering that name in your ear. 

You feel yourself heat up at your reveries, and you clear your throat in an attempt to dissuade the longingness you felt. Paige was just a friend. That’s all she’d ever be to you. 

Once the mess was cleaned up and Paige’s suitcase was packed to perfection by your type-A ass, you fell into bed next to the blonde girl. It was early, and while you were eager to go to bed in order to get a few solid hours of sleep, Paige was bustling with energy.

“Stop actin’ like a grandma and talk to me,” Paige whines, while bouncing obnoxiously on the plush mattress.

“Go to sleep. You’ll thank me in the mornin’,” you respond sleepily, eyes already closed with a fierce determination to ignore Paige’s childish antics. 

Paige doesn’t respond, but chooses to pout in faux indignation. 

Her pouting keeps her up for three more hours. And as your shrill alarm bit through the silence of her dark room, waking you both up, you knew Paige was about to be a real problem. 

She groans at the piercing noise, hiding her head under the blankets.

“C’mon, Paigey. Wakey, wakey,” you giggle as you tickle her writhing figure in an attempt to get her ass out of bed. 

She ultimately relents at the promise of breakfast on the way to the airport. Even as you pull her through the bright airport, Paige is trying to do anything in her power to close her eyes for a few precious seconds of shut eye. It was so like her, and her refusal to admit that you were right should have made you annoyed. But Paige could never really do anything to actually annoy you.

Standing protectively behind you in the TSA line, you feel her eyes trailing your figure in a way that makes you feel hot and slightly insecure. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and an oversized UCONN basketball t-shirt, and the shirt had ridden up. Paige had a perfect view of your backside. Turning around to talk to her, you notice her gaze is directed at your ass, and your cheeks are suddenly ablaze at the shameless ogling. 

Paige was always flirty with you, but lately it had been weaved with something more. 

Finally, the two of you are able to board, and Paige slumps into her seat with a loud groan of exhaustion. You roll your eyes and get yourself situated for the long ride to Seattle. You had already mentally prepared for the fact that Paige would spend most of the flight using you as a pillow. However, you were less than prepared for the noises that would soon come out of your best friend’s sleeping mouth.

The television attached to the seat in front of you showed that plane was flying over Montana when you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by several small noises coming out of Paige’s mouth. The first one was quiet but fucking guttural. The second one is followed by whining. The last one makes your heart stop. A tiny moan of “princess” slips out, and your legs involuntarily clench at the sound. 

Was she dreaming about you?

Fuck no. That was impossible, and you refused to get even the smallest of hopes up.

Until your name slips out in a faint whimper, and there is no denying that you were the object of her dream.

Shit. 

Before she could get any louder and attract some unwanted attention, you jostle her ever so slightly, waking her up. Her eyes are bleary, and she looks around for a second, as if she has forgotten where she was. Her gaze settles on yours briefly before she is tearing it away to stare down at her hands. She is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, and it makes you wonder if she had recalled any part of her little dream. Not wanting to embarrass her, you drop it, instead informing her that you’d be landing in an hour. 

Paige doesn’t miss the way your eyes drop to her lips, as your bottom one is caught between your teeth in a bruising bite. There was always sexual tension between the two of you. Always a ‘what if’ and a ‘if only’ after each interaction, but you had both ignored it in favor of protecting the delicacy of your friendship. 

~

Soon enough, you and Paige are stepping out of the elevator of your hotel. With the time change, it was still morning, and you had promised Paige that you’d let her take a nap before going out to explore and meet up with Nika. Paige was desperate for sleep now, and you don’t miss the bruised look of her under eyes. 

You open the door to the room, eyes immediately drawn to the large single bed placed right in the center of the room. Shit, you thought you had requested two beds. Looking warily over at Paige, you notice her tongue peaking out to slowly trace across her bottom lip in a subtle display of want. Maybe sharing a bed after all this wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. 

Once all your stuff is placed neatly away, and Paige haphazardly throws her stuff onto the empty desk in the corner, you settle onto the soft bed with a small moan of content. Your body sinks into the soft sheets and plush pillows, and Paige’s warm body next to you beckons you to scooch closer into her. It felt blissful, and it did not take long before you were both enveloped in the welcoming nothingness of sleep. 

Several hours slipped by before you wake up, suddenly feeling sticky from both the sleep and the hot body pressed up against you. Paige had nuzzled into your neck, a long muscular arm thrown around your waist, caging you in deliciously. 

As she lets out a puff of air against your throat, a tiny whine escapes your mouth, similarly to the noises Paige had been making on the airplane. As quiet as you thought you were, Paige wakes with a startle, and her bright blue eyes are peering curiously into yours. 

“You okay, princess?” She asks, a small smirk on her face, as if she knew what you were thinking. 

“Course.” You affirm, eyes flitting back and forth between those eyes and her lips. You were no longer hiding the want in your own eyes. 

Paige chuckles, and the noise goes straight between your legs, reverberating through your entire body. The effect she had on you was maddening. 

Before you can even begin to overthink, Paige is bringing her face even closer to yours. You can feel her breath fan over your mouth, and you hold your breath for a second, afraid that if you let out any air, she would pull away and retreat. 

Paige searches your face for a sign of reluctance but she finds nothing, and she presses her lips against yours. A moan leaves her mouth as your lips connect, and you can feel the already blurry lines of your friendship completely entangle. 

You did not care, though. Because Paige’s mouth was on yours and everything else seemed to fade away into nothingness.

[lowkeyren]

incandescent feelings overflow!

in which — you found yourself “forced” to dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn / you (really) hate aventurine

pairing — aventurine x fem!reader (no pronouns used but reader is mentioned to be wearing a gown once, otherwise it’s still written w gn reader in mind, tagging fem js incase)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  — wc: 1.4k, enemies to lovers but it’s js forced prox w tension, denial is a river in egypt, silly aven calling you love every other sentence, anyway reblogs are much appreciated! please enjoy <3

based on this!

you have every reason to despise aventurine. ever since you first crossed paths, he has been nothing but a constant source of frustration and irritation. It isn’t just his smug demeanor or his irritating charm— it’s the way he seems to take pleasure in ruining everything you work for.

it's as if fate’s playing a cruel joke on you, your encounters never stopped. each time, it feels like being dragged into a twisted dance orchestrated by some malevolent force. and in every dance, aventurine was always one step ahead, always ready to trip you up and leave you stumbling in his wake. you’ve always vowed to turn the tables; to become the one who led the dance, who stayed ahead of the game.

but just when you think you have him figured out, he throws you off balance with those vexingly sweet pet names. "love," one of his favourites. his voice dripping with honeyed charm; a calculated move, specifically designed to distract you. and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself unable to ignore the stirring of something within you.

aventurine, this name, like the man it belongs to, fills you with a seething, visceral hatred that coils in the pit of your stomach like a venomous serpent. it doesn't make it better that tonight you actually have to dance with him.

you move through the crowd, searching for him even as you try to appear disinterested. then you see him, standing tall and confident, his gaze meeting yours across the room. he makes his way towards you, and you find yourself holding your breath.

“we meet again…” he says, stretching his hand out, offering a handshake as if this is a cordial reunion between old friends.

you stare at his outstretched hand, feeling a surge of indignation rising within you. he’s acting so nonchalant after everything he’s done. every fiber of your being screams at you to refuse, to turn on your heel and walk away, to show him that you will no longer be drawn into his twisted games.

though despite your better judgement, you find yourself hesitating. aventurine’s hand hangs in the air, waiting for your response, and for a moment, you're frozen in place, torn between your pride and the inevitability of the situation.

with a sigh, you finally relent, placing your hand in his with a forced politeness that belies the turmoil raging beneath the surface.

whatever. this will be a great chance to get some information out of him anyway. (you convince yourself)

aventurine holds a firm grip, his touch sending a shiver down your spine; and you can't help but resent the way he seems to revel in your discomfort.

tonight may be a seemingly innocent dance, but it's one you refuse to lose. and if he thinks he can best you with a simple handshake, he's sorely mistaken. you’ve prepared for this moment meticulously, concealing a dagger beneath your gown as a precaution. you knew aventurine would be here, and you anticipated the dance that would inevitably follow. 

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, he catches you off guard by retracting his hand, pulling you close. almost stumbling over your feet, you find yourself drawn into his embrace, his arms encircling you as he leads you onto the dance floor. as if on cue, the tempo picks up, and a hush falls over the crowd, the sound of whispered conversations fading into the background, all eyes turning to the dance floor. there's a palpable tension in the air, but you ignore it as the rhythm of the dance carries you away.

“so, mr aventurine, what brings you here? surely it's not just to exchange pleasantries.” you ask as you stare into his eyes, trying to gauge his intentions.

“oh drop the formalities love, you truly wound me…” he replies teasingly, dragging out the endearment with a smirk.

you roll your eyes and ignore the way he completely disregards your initial question, opting to save the interrogation for later. there's a strange sort of chemistry between you, if you can even call it that —an undeniable tension that defies explanation, even as you find yourself effortlessly matching his rhythm, and his movements to yours, a natural fluidity.

aventurine’s eyes, sweet like honey, yet always so keen and calculating; now holds a spark of amusement as he meets your eyes once more. his penetrating gaze seems to delve into the depths of your soul, studying you as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your defenses, and you stare back, matching his intensity, determined to uncover the truth hidden beneath his carefully constructed facade. 

he spins you gracefully across the floor, barbed words exchange silently between you as you move in perfect synchronisation. as he pulls you closer, your bodies brush against each other, his expression shifts. there's a flicker of surprise in his eyes but it's swiftly replaced by a widening smile. he feels the cold metal of the dagger strapped to your thigh pressing against his leg. aventurine’s grip on your waist tightens, he leans down, his warm breath caresses your ear.

“is this a surprise for me?”, his voice a low murmur that sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body.

“maybe.” you try to keep your tone cool despite the warmth radiating from his proximity making it increasingly difficult to catch your breath. he raises an eyebrow seemingly challenging you, "at least wait ‘til the song ends, love."

the air is suffusing with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, enveloping you, trapping you with him. you’ve always tried to keep him at arm's length, but somehow he finds his way by your side; his presence suffocating, his touch burning against your skin. 

“don’t call me that, it’s annoying.” you retort, words coming out sharper than you intended. though you can’t deny the subtle flutter in your chest, and quickening of your pulse that betrays the effect his endearment has on you.

“alright sweetheart, as you wish.” (you want to punch a hole through his face)

as the night comes to an end, aventurine reluctantly releases you from his grasp, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer. it’s a subtle gesture, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. executing a bow with his eyes still locked onto yours; you curtsey in return, the intensity of his gaze weighing on you as you straighten up.

just as you remember the question you were supposed to ask him after the dance, he interrupts your thoughts by bringing your hand to his lips, the touch of his kiss a brief, searing contact; imprinting the sensation of his touch upon you before he releases your hand. 

“until next time”, his words carrying both promise and threat. you cast one last glance into his mesmerizing eyes, hoping to glean something behind them, but to no avail, you find only your own reflection staring back at you.

the sounds of the bustling ballroom gradually seep back into your awareness, laughters and chatters of other guests filling the air around you. returned to your senses, you hurriedly glance around, searching for any sign of him amidst the crowd, but he has vanished without a trace. as if he was never there at all, leaving you to wonder if the encounter was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the shroud of confusion that clouds your thoughts. 

(unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes remain fixed on you from the shadows for the rest of the night. hidden in the dimness, his captivation is made obvious by his unwavering gaze and subtle smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips.)

tonight, you found yourself caught in a dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn, who was as captivating as he was dangerous, and you can’t help but wonder when might be your next rendezvous.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  masterlist

[fandomfucker]

Can I request poly! Judgement Day x virgin fem! Reader?

Mixed with this request: TJD X female reader story where they're all just chilling at home (rest and relaxation day) and the day ends with the devils tango?

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT!! (Condoms used, oral f&m receiving and giving, spit, fingering, vaginal penetration, choking, pet names, anal mentioned, praise, slight degradation, hair pulling)

A/N: Sorry its taken so long 😅

Word Count: 4,816

Reader's POV

As a pro-wrestler in a polyamorous faction, we took our days off very seriously. We didn't get many and even when we did get one, despite all being on the same show, the five of us were rarely all together.

Now, for the first time in almost two months, we all had the day off together. And we were going to make the best of it.

The first thing we all did together was sleep in. We had pushed two king beds together for one massive bed to fit all five of us when we moved in and we loved it. Not only could we all cuddle together at night, but it gave us more room for sex.

Having never been in a relationship before this at all, much less a poly one, I had been waiting to have sex with any of them. Just until I felt completely ready for it.

My other partners however, relished in the new amounts of space with each other. They would always reassure me that it didn't matter to them if I never wanted to have sex, so I've always felt very secure in my choices.

I woke up tangled in a mass amount of limbs. Being in the middle of four other people was usually wonderful but could also be suffocating at times.

Damian clung onto my back, his face pushed into the back of my neck while Finn clung to his. Dominik laid in front of me with his forehead resting against my chest while Rhea laid in a similar position as she spooned him from behind.

Taking a second to just breathe them all in, I snuggled back into my cocoon between Damian and Dominik and just enjoyed the moment. For once, there wasn't an alarm clock forcing us all to get up and leave, and all five of us were finally together.

"Mornin' sweetheart."

I lifted my head as best I could at the voice, still wrapped up tight in the boys' arms.

"Mornin' Mami," I grinned back.

"You want some breakfast? It's already almost 10:30." Rhea asked me, sitting up and beginning to stretch as her eyes roamed over the situation I was in and huffed a small laugh in pure amusement as I just stared up at her.

She began trying to gently pry Damian's hands from my waist where they were locking me in as she rolled Dominik over so he was also away from me.

"Come on! Get up!" Rhea playfully huffed as she grabbed my arm and began to pull me up.

Groaning, I made myself dead weight which only made her try harder to get me up.

"Can't we just stay here all day?" I pleaded, using my best persuasive voice.

"We can, but got to get some food in you first, my love."

Rolling my eyes I finally conceded with an "okay, okay, jeez" and let her pick me up to carry me out of bed so as not to disturb Dominik.

As soon as I was removed from his grasp, I heard him grumble his half-asleep annoyances before moving into the spot I'd just vacated and cuddling up to Damian who immediately wrapped his arms around him.

Rhea and I awed at them as she carried me out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. Sitting me down at the kitchen counter, she kissed the top of my head before walking over to the fridge and examining the contents inside.

"What do ya' feel like?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

I hummed to myself in thought as I looked past her into the fridge. "Can I just have some yogurt and coffee?"

She raised a brow at me. "That's gonna hurt your stomach."

I just waved her off and gave her a big toothy grin as she rolled her eyes but gave me my yogurt and began making a pot of coffee.

Heavy footsteps padded down the hallway and before I even had the chance to turn around to see who it was, a large hand landed on the top of my head, pulling me into them.

A kiss was planted on the top of my head, with a mumbled "good morning" before I was released and the chair next to me was pulled out and filled in by Dominik.

"Mornin', Mami," He greeted Rhea sleepily.

She threw a small smile over her shoulder, bidding him a good morning in return before going back to what she was doing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dom scrutinizing me from where he sat not even a foot away.

"What?" I asked him.

Instead of responding to me, he just frowned and leaned down, grabbing the leg of the stool I was sitting on and pulling it towards him so that the seats of our chairs touched.

"That's better," He mumbled to himself as he slumped against me, holding me tight as he closed his eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

My cheeks quickly heated as I looked over to Rhea in confusion, who was now watching us in amusement. She just shrugged at me before moving to the cabinet to grab some mugs.

I wrapped my arms around Dominik and began to lightly stroke his arm, tracing his tattoos.

Goosebumps began to spread out across his body underneath my fingers and he shivered, making me giggle. I cradled his head against my chest and gave the top of his head a kiss in apology.

His grip tightened on me and he snuggled his head further into my collarbone.

Rhea came over and placed two steaming hot mugs of fresh coffee in front of us, making Dom's head shoot up but his grip on me never faltered.

He stuck one of his knees in-between mine to keep me close as he reached out only one hand and grabbed my mug, beginning to cool it off by blowing on it.

Watching him do this simple little gesture of affection and care made me fall even harder for him. Once he had cooled it to what he deemed to be an acceptable temperature, he handed it to me, accompanied by a forehead kiss, before grabbing his own coffee and doing the same thing.

Sipping my perfect temperature coffee I just stared at him in wonder and love. In all the other relationships I'd been in since I was a teenager, no one had ever cooled off my coffee for me simply because.

He caught me staring at me and looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes mid-blow.

My cheeks flushed again and a ducked my head down, staring at my coffee to avoid eye contact.

I could hear both Dom and Rhea laughing at me but before either of them could say anything, Finn walked into the room, followed closely by Damian.

"Mornin' loves," Finn went around the kitchen giving all three of us a kiss on the head before seating himself at the head of the kitchen table.

I myself gave him a small grunt in greeting as I began to shovel my yogurt into my mouth so we could all go back to bed sooner.

"Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy, mi amor." Damian took the spoon out of my hand, forcing me to swallow what I already had in my mouth before taking another bite. "What's got you in such a rush?"

I stole my spoon back, receiving a quick frown in response as Rhea answered him for me.

"She just wants to spend the whole day in bed with everyone. But everyone else still needs to eat first too so slow down, babe." She reprimanded me.

Dominik stole my attention away from our girlfriend by resting his hand on my knee.

"I'm not hungry so once you finish we can go back to bed until everyone else is done, okay?"

Nodding happily, I took my time and slowly finished the rest of my yogurt, taking sips of my now lukewarm coffee in between bites.

Rhea made Finn and Damian some more coffee while Finn made the three of them a proper breakfast. Watching them just interact with each other as I ate my own breakfast made me happier than anything.

I sat and watched Rhea, swatting Damian's hands away from trying to take her vegemite away from her. And then Damian complaining that her kisses would just take like vegemite now, and her putting even more onto her toast.

She pulled off a bit of the crust with a much smaller amount of the vegemite on it, and handed it to me. I happily grabbed it and popped it in my mouth, thanking her as I enjoyed the Australian treat.

Of the four of us non-Australians I liked vegemite the most. Not anywhere near the degree that Rhea did, but I did like a small bit on occasion.

Once I had finished my yogurt, Dominik took my hand and helped me off the stool. I went and gave Finn, Damian, and Rhea, who had now joined them at the kitchen table, a kiss on the cheek before taking Dom's hand again and letting him lead me back to our bedroom.

Immediately I catapulted into the bed, scrambling to get under the covers and comfy as I possibly could be. I heard Dominik laugh at my antics before also jumping into the bed, landing right next to me as he also scrambled under the covers.

Fully enveloped in the blankets, we stared at each other in the dark, giggling like we were little kids hiding from our parents after doing something we weren't supposed to.

Dominik kissed me on the nose before rolling over to lay on his stomach, and I quickly followed suite.

Our whispers filled the bedroom as we huddled close together under the blankets, as if we actually had any secrets from the others. The others who would soon walk into the room and stop dead in the tracks at the sight of us underneath the blankets, our whispers having ceased the moment we heard them cross the threshold.

"Gee, I wonder where Dom and Y/n are!" Damian playfully exclaimed before immediately divebombing on top of us. Dominik and I both let out a grunt as the air left our lungs and the blankets were pulled back to revel Damian's grinning face.

"Whatcha' doing in there?" He waggled his brows at us, resulting in me slapping his chest lightly as a light blush coated my cheeks while Dominik giggled beside me.

I ducked my head down to hid my face but was immediately brought back up by Rheas fingers underneath my chin, only increasing the heat on my face as our eyes locked.

She grinned at me, leaning in to give me a kiss on the top of my nose before settling under the covers next to me.

Still blushing, I settled back fully under the covers, situating myself to now lay on top of her. My arms rested together on Rhea's plush tatted thighs, my head laid atop them as she massaged my head with her nails.

The feeling of her nails on my scalp soothed me and pretty quickly I was falling asleep. Not that I minded, as Rhea's legs are always the best place to fall asleep. However, I was rudely awakened not long after by Dominik calling for my attention.

I peeled an eye open, seeing Rhea glaring at him from above me and slowly pushing myself to sit up.

"What?" I asked grumpily. I heard Rhea chuckle above me before she started scratching my back with her nails, something I often did to the four of them as well.

"There was an update on your game!" He excitedly showed me, shoving my Nintendo Switch in my face. Disney Dreamlight Valley was a game I had started playing by myself a little while back as it was a very relaxing, peaceful, game. Dom and Rhea both wound up getting into it a bit as well and would play on my world just to get me more materials and money. If we weren't all playing together then sometimes they'd take my phone to help me level up as well as was the case currently.

"What? No way! It's not supposed to be 'til tomorrow!" I excitedly grabbed my phone back from Dominik and began looking around in the game and checking for updates. I heard Rhea make an "ooh" noise behind me and soon both of them had joined my world and were running around with me.

Finn and Damian posted themselves at the ends of the bed, Finn cuddling into Rhea with Damian into Dominik and me in the middle of them all. The TV turned on and the two eldest of the group began channel surfing, Rhea imputing her opinion every so often of what she didn't want to watch. In the end they settled on Tattoo Wars again.

For the next few hours, I just played my  on my switch, while the TV played in the background, my partners surrounding me on both sides. 

Eventually, my legs started cramping and my eyes burned from the bright glare of my screen. I put my switch to the side and slide down the bed, under the covers, and rolled onto my stomach. I laid my arms back across Rhea's thighs and began idly tracing her tattoos.

Her leg twitched, nearly kicking my own leg, as she let out an involuntary giggle from above.

The covers lifted above my head and I looked up, meeting her eyes. "What are you doing, bug?" I grinned up at her innocently, dragging my finger up her thigh again making her shiver.

Like a panther, quick as lightning she lunged for me and had me on my back with my hands pinned above my head as she straddled my hips. She gave me a grin of her own now as I was completely in her control. Or as she and the others liked to say, under her spell.

My eyes widened slightly and I could feel my core grow hot with lust as I stared up at her above me, her necklaces dangling in my face. All three of the boys had now stopped what they were doing and watched us from where they each sat around the bed.

Breathing became harder as each of us refused to break eye contact, her looks quite literally taking my breath away. She leaned down and grazed my cheek with a kiss, making me shiver now.

Pining my wrists together in only one hand as the other one trailed down to my exposed thigh. She trailed her finger up and down the center before inching her way towards the inside of my thigh.

On pure instinct, my legs parted, making way for her hand to do whatever it pleased. "Good girl." She whispered in my ear, pulling away to grin wickedly at me as the ends of her hair now tickled my face.

The small pool of wetness between my legs only grew with her words. Her hand began to tease the brim of my shorts as she lowered her mouth to mine.

I moaned into her, the taste of her vegemite toast still on her tongue as she used it to explore my mouth. My hips lifted up into her hand, chasing friction as she slipped under my shorts, tracing circles on my clothed core.

A gasp left my mouth at the sensation of her cool fingers on my hot skin. "Be a good girl for Mami and I'll give you what you want, hm?" She murmured on my lips.

I nodded as another gasp escaped me, putty in her hands as she rubbed circles around my clothed clit.

She sat back a little and looked around at the boys who were now watching us raptly. "Can the boys join in too or do you want them to leave?" Rhea leaned back down to ask me quietly, just in case it would hurt the boys' feelings.

"They can join." I replied, albeit shakily.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." I smiled nervously at her.

She kissed my lips again, leaving me chasing after her as she pulled away from me, slinging her right leg back over my hips to sit on my my right side.

She moved the both of us so that she was on her knees, back against the headboard while I sat in front of her with my legs extended. She kept me there with a tight grip on my shoulders as Damian moved to be in front of me.

Rhea massaged my shoulders, her hands traveling up and down my arms sensually as I tried to focus on Damian in front of me.

He laid a hand on my thigh, the other hand coming up to cup my face. Leaning in, he placed his lips against mine. His hand on my thigh traveled up to the bottom of my shorts while one of Rhea's hands traveled down to cup one of my breasts through my shirt.

"Wait, wait, wait," I stopped, pulling away from Damian's lips.

All four partners immediately stopped in their tracks, whether they were touching me or not, and the ones that were pulled away.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked me in concern from the other end of the bed.

I nodded, "Yeah, um but...c-can we..."

Damian gripped my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him. "Anything you need, Princesa. Just tell us what you want."

Blushing at the nickname, I wet my lips nervously before taking a deep breath.

"Can we use condoms? I know y'all usually don't and Rhea and I are both on birth control but I feel better with the extra protection."

"Of course carino, whatever makes you more comfortable." Dom piped up from where he now laid under Finn.

"Do you just want pregnancy protection or do you want me to use some too? 'Cause I have some in the drawer." Rhea questioned me. She still sat behind me on her knees massaging my shoulders and has now started up again.

I smiled at the genuine worry in her voice, truly willing to do whatever I wanted to make me comfortable. "No that's okay, babe. Just for the vaginal stuff with the boys. Everyone's been tested and hasn't been with anyone outside the group right?" I received four nods in confirmation. "Then I'm all good. Just nervous." I grinned up at her.

She grabbed my throat, forcing my head back even further, "Perfect. Just lay back and we'll do the rest."

She leaned over me and kissed my lips, still keeping a tight grip on my throat. Damian grumbled in front of me at the loss of his position and moved himself between my thighs. He hoisted up my hips, pulling my sleep shorts down and off my legs, my underwear entangled with them.

Reaching over to the bedside table, Damian withdrew three condoms from the drawer. He took one for himself and passed the other two to Finn and Dominik who were off to the other side of the bed but just close enough for me to reach them.

Rhea slid her lips down my chin, all the way to my throat, just under my ear and began her assault there, biting my skin only to lick away the hurt a second later. Breathy gasps left my mouth as she left her mark on me.

My shirt was ripped off my body for better access, my nipples hard and aching under her sensual touches.

A hand on my upper thigh made me turn my attention back towards the man in front of me. I'm met with the sight of his now covered cock standing stiff as he strokes himself, watching me and Rhea together.

A particularly hard bite makes me yelp at the same time Damian grips my thighs, harshly pushing them apart to bare myself to him. Sliding his hand up my thigh, he dragged his thumb up the center of my folds before leaning down and spitting right where his hand just was.

Upon seeing this, Finn and Dom both scooted their way over, moving around so each of them was sitting on either side of me. They each gripped a thigh and leaned down, adding their own spits to the mix.

And Rhea had no problem leaving my neck to move down and spread around the mixed spits of our partners with her tongue through my already soaked folds.

Without Rhea behind me now I was able to lay back on the pillows like she had told me to, as my partners all had their way with me.

I could tell they were still holding back a little and taking it slow though.

Finn and Dom were both naked now as well and I stroked each of their cocks just as Finn had instructed me to as Rhea fucked me with her tongue, using our partners' spit as lube. Damian watched over us all and positioned himself behind Rhea, pushing down on her upper back as she laid bent over on her knees before me.

He pushed her head further into me, making me moan aloud and squeeze the boys' dicks as well, causing them both to moan too. Dominik moved closer to my face and motioned for me to put his dick in my mouth. I did as I was told but wound up having a bit of difficulty still stroking Finn at the same time.

Dominik gripped my face in her hands, cupping right where my jaw met my throat. "Just focus on Finn, cariño."

I followed instructions and just focused on Finn as Dominik gather my hair in one hand, keeping the other hand cupping my jaw as he began to fuck my throat. "Tap my thigh if you need me to stop." He huffed out, continuously slamming his hips into me over and over again.

Not having to focus on two things at once now, I was able to stroke Finn faster, stretching my fingers down to knead his balls, making him throw his head back in ecstasy.

Rhea kept eating me out, fucking and sucking with her tongue until I was practically vibrating with the pleasure. She hummed onto my clit in amusement as my thighs squeezed around her head, only adding to the pit of fire brewing in my stomach.

I watched as Damian kneeled behind Rhea and, without a word, slammed himself into her, making her moan as she was thrusted into my pussy. When he had even taken her shorts off was a mystery to me.

Being the most unexperienced one there, I came first. My thighs clenched and shaking around Rhea's head as her metal tongue piercing swirled around my clit, being pushed and pulled into me as I watched from my vantage point Damian fuck her hard and quick.

"Fuck!" Dominik exclaimed right as he came hard into my mouth. Pulling out, he gave me the option to spit or swallow it.

I maintained eye contact with him as I swallowed it, the grip he had on my hair getting tighter as he watched it go down.

"Good girl, you beautiful little slut." He praised, kissing me on the mouth before pulling away and turning my head towards Finn.

Taking Finn's cock into my mouth, I set the pace this time as I felt Rhea dislodge herself from between my thighs.

I sucked Finn off until he abruptly pulled out of my mouth and came on my tits instead of in my mouth.

He grinned at me hungrily as he watched the liquid slide over and down my breasts, mixing with my sweat and making them shiny.

"Ah fuck!"

I turned and saw Rhea on her stomach just to the side of me with Damian still fucking her from behind, his hands holding her hips tight.

Just by the look on her face I could tell that she was coming pretty hard. I bit my lip as I watched the two of them together.

Damian moaned and gave one last large thrust as he also came into the condom he wore, still inside of Rhea. He head was thrown back, his eyes closed but when he turned to look at me it was like there was no one else in the world.

"You wanna get in on this?" He questioned me, moving away from Rhea to take off and throw away the condom. I nodded eagerly and awaited my instructions.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dom and Finn already back on top of each other, kissing each other like their lives depended on it while Finn fucked Dom.

"What do you want then, sweetness?" Rhea breathily asked me as she pushed herself up.

My face grew hot at the nickname. She hadn't called me that one before and it caught me off guard, not to mention, I was too embarrassed to tell them I wanted her to sit on my face while Damian fucked me blind.

Sensing my nervousness, Damian reached out and tucked back the strands of hair stuck to my forehead with sweat.

"Y/n, I promise you, whatever you want is totally okay with us. We've probably done it before anyways," He smiled at me. "Just tell us what you want so we can make you feel good."

I sucked in a deep breath, before just speed-running my words. "I want Mami to sit on my face while you fuck me."

"That, we can do." Rhea grinned cheekily at me. Gripping my shoulders she gently pushed me down to lie flat in my back, throwing some of the extra pillows behind me to the floor for more room.

My hands reflexively gripped her thighs as she swung her left leg over my hip. Smiling down at me, me began making her way up my body until she was directly over my face.

She stroked my hair as I held onto her upper thighs for dear life. "You ready?"

I nodded, the more than perfect sight of her bare pussy over top of me more than enough to steal my breath away.

Rhea leaned on the headboard with one hand while the other stayed entangled in my hair as I felt Damian put my legs up so my knees were in the air. 

I felt him situate himself between them, gripping my own thighs for support as he rubbed his cock up and down my pussy.

Rhea turned back towards him and gave him a nod but before I could ask them about it, Rhea spread her knees out and rested all her weight on top of me, while Damian simultaneously inserted himself into me, straight to the hilt.

My back arched in ecstasy as Damian began to pound into me, the same way he had to Rhea. I kept my tight grip on her thighs to keep myself grounded as I reveled in the sensations from both partners.

Rhea's grip on my hair tightened when I stuck my tongue into her cunt, making me go deeper and faster than I thought I could. Keeping one hand on her leg, I brought the other one down to rub on her clit.

I could feel Damian doing the same thing, thrusting into me as he drew circles on my clit making me moan into Rhea's pussy, only adding to her own pleasure even more as she grinded down on my face. 

Soon, I could feel both of our thighs beginning to shake on the verge of orgasm as well as Damian's thrusts beginning to become erratic.

With a final thrust of both tongue and cock, all three of us came, shaking and panting.

As soon as Rhea was able to move again she removed herself from my face, resulting in a whimper from me as her slick stuck to my chin, strings of it connecting the two of us as she pulled away.

Feeling a weight that wasn't Rhea on my stomach I looked down to see Damian's exhausted head lying on my lower belly. I smiled and ran my shaky fingers through his hair, a smile tugging at his features as sweat shone on his skin.

I didn't even notice Dom and Finn's absences from where they had been next to us until Finn was holding a wet wash cloth and making Damian get off me. He kissed my thigh before spreading them apart again and starting to clean me up.

I smiled at him in thanks, still at a loss for words as my head rolled to the side, watching as Dominik cleaned up Rhea.

"I think I'm ready for actual food now." I announced. "And maybe a shower," I scrunched my nose in fake disgust, watching as my partners all looked at me like I had hung the moon.

"Actually, I'm thinking we have a girls only bath time, hmm?" Rhea responded, holding out her hand for me to grab.

Once my hand was enveloped in hers, she led me off the bed and into the master bathroom, locking the door behind us to the annoyance of the boys.

That night started me and Rhea's tradition of taking a bath together after every group session. Not only because we both despise being sticky, but because it also gives us a little bit of girl time after being with all the guys.

Which 90% of the time just led to more sex between the two of us. The boys don't need to know that.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

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

The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”  

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ‘you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”  

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn���t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.”  You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel,  never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.  

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair.  Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[allaboutsturns]

𝓒𝓪𝓷 𝓘 𝓢𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓣𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽?

christopher sturniolo x reader

warnings: minor angst

summary: you’ve been living with the triplets for about 6 months now. you’ve always kind of had a thing for chris and you thought maybe he felt the same way. your guess is confirmed when one night chris asks to sleep in your room after a nightmare.

contains: fluff, minor angst, cuddling, sad chris, reciprocated feelings.

• 2:30am

i shift in bed as i am woken up by three soft knocks at my bedroom door. i bring my hands up to my eyes rubbing the sleep away.

my head tilts to the side slightly as three more gentle knocks are heard at my door. i clear my throat and manage to hum a response to the knocks, “hm?”

“y/n..?” i hear a familiar voice mutter from the other side of the closed door. i pull the comforter off of my body and throw my legs off the side of the bed placing my feet on the ground and standing up.

i walk over to the door, my feet dragging across the floor as exhaustion moves throughout my tired body. once i get to the door, i lift a hand and grab the doorknob, twisting it and pulling the door open ever so slightly.

my eyes are met by chris’s tired gaze. he looks sad, restless even. “chris..?” i murmur, my voice cracking slightly since it hadn’t acclimated to being awake yet.

he shifts his gaze to the floor and raises a hand to the back of his neck, “i’m sorry.. did i wake you..?” he mumbles quietly, almost too quiet for me to hear. he looks back up at my face and i nod in response to his question.

“can i.. actually no. this is stupid, i’m so sorry for waking you up. goodnight..” he says frantically as his fingers fidget with one another, his body turning to walk away. i place a hand on his shoulder gently, inviting him to come into my room.

“what’s up, chris?” i ask quietly, my voice sympathetic as a worried expression washes over the features of my face. i walk over and sit down on the end of my bed, patting the mattress, signaling for chris to sit beside me.

he steps into my room and closes the door behind him slowly before shuffling towards my bed and sitting down beside me. he stares at the floor the entire time and i just look at him, my eyes fixated on him. his hair falls into his face and i can no longer get a clear visual of his sad expression.

he finally opens his mouth to respond to my previous question, “i just. can i sleep in here tonight..?” he asks nervously. my eyebrows furrow with confusion at his question. chris has never been good at sleeping alone, it was always easier for him to have another body present. it made him feel safer, but he has never asked to sleep in your room. he would always ask one of his brothers, matt or nick.

“yeah of course.. why though?” i ask gently. his body shifts uncomfortably and he barely moves his head to look at me. i can see his tired eyes through his brunette hair.

“i had a nightmare…” he whispers quietly, his voice slightly breaking with each words as his eyes began to well with tears. i frown before placing a hand on his back and tracing mindless shapes with my finger tips.

he always loved when i would rub his back. sometimes when i was sitting on the couch or we were all watching a movie together he would lay his head in my lap and ask me to rub his back. it always made him smile and most of the time he would fall asleep within 10 minutes.

“do you wanna talk about it, love?” i say softly. by now i’ve noticed the tears threatening to escape his eyes and it rips at my heart. i have never seen this boy cry and it would absolutely break me to witness that.

he sniffles as a single tear manages to escape his eye, “uh.. it was..” he pauses, taking in a shakey breath, “it was about you..” he says so quietly i almost didn’t hear him.

my expression shifts to one of confusion for one single second before i wipe the tear away from his face with my free hand, “what about me, hon..?” i ask. i always used pet names for chris, he loved it and i loved the way it made him smile almost every time.

his body started to shake as more tears fell, his breathing slightly picking up, “you.. we were..” he stuttered, his voice breaking.

“we were in a car accident and i..” he paused, taking a deep breath in through his nose, “i couldn’t save you.. and you d..” sobs erupted from his body as he fell into me, gripping the fabric of my tank top tightly.

i moved my hand from his back to his head and started gently playing with his hair. my free hand resided on his cheek as tears collected under it, my thumb gently moving back and forth on his cheek.

“oh my love..” i whisper into his hair. i can feel his body heave with each panicked breath he takes, “chris, baby.. look at me, please..?” i say, my tone sympathetic. for a moment we just sit there with him in my arms before he slowly looks up at me, his eyes red and puffy. i frown as tears threaten to escape into the world but i blink them away.

“i’m okay, i’m still here and i’m okay.. i promise.” i say with a gentle smile, “i’m not going anywhere..” i say placing my forehead to his, shutting my eyes. his eyes are now shut as well.

i pull away and stand up slowly, “let’s get you comfy,” i say as i reach out a hand for him to grab. i help him up off my bed and walk over to the side of the bed that’s still relatively untouched. i pull the comforter back and look up at chris, “here, hon. lay down,” i say, my words followed by a small yawn. he lays himself onto the mattress and i bring the covers up to his shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. he pushes his head into the kiss.

i pull away and walk over to my side of the bed. i lay down and pull the covers up to my neck, turning my body to face the boy. i lift the covers up slightly, inviting him to lay in my arms. he scoots closer resting his head in the crook of my neck as he snakes his arms around my body, pulling me even closer to him. i can tell he’s trying to get as close to me as he can.

“goodnight, sweet boy,” i whisper into the top of his head lovingly. i can feel his breathing against my neck. it’s finally slowed since he was able to match my breathing.

“y/n..” he mumbles into my neck. i hum a response with closed eyes, “mhm..?”

“i love you.. thank you,” he whispers so quietly i’m almost convinced he didn’t even hear his own words. i kiss the top of his head and smile gently, “i love you..” i reply, my voice tired.

he shakes his head slightly, “no.. i love you,” he says, pulling his head away from my neck and looking at me. i open my eyes and look at him, a smile tugging at my lips.

“i know, chris. i love you,” i reply, already knowing what kind of love he meant. it was very reciprocated. his face barely twists in confusion before he smiles softly at me.

“can i kiss you..?” he asks, i can hear the subtle nervousness in his voice. even though i’ve known he had feelings for me since nick accidentally let it slip when him and i were hanging out, it still shocks me.

i smile and nod my head. he lets out a little chuckle, “words please, sweetheart,” he musters. he’s never used a pet name for me and as soon as he did i felt my cheeks flush a deep red, “yes you can, chris,” i say, giving him the verbal permission he wanted.

a second passes before he finally connects his soft lips with mine. i lean into the kiss, not wanting it to end. it’s nothing like how i imagined it would be in the sense that it made me feel so alive and loved. my stomach filled with butterflies.

chris pulled away from the kiss before placing another gentle kiss on my forehead. a smile spreads across both of our faces and he moved his head back to the crook of my neck.

“can i take you on a date tomorrow?” he asks, his eyes now closed as well as mine.

“yeah.. i’d like that,” i reply, sleep slowly taking over my body.

“okay awesome..” he whispers.

our breathing is synced and our hearts beat together as we give in to sleep. his body heat comforts me. this is the best sleep i’ve ever gotten and i won’t ever want it to be any other way from here on out.

• 3:10am

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

thank you so much for reading! this is the first time i’m uploading something i’ve written to the public so i apologize about any mistakes and what not! hope you enjoyed!

- ace <3

[whumpsoda]

Seeing Me in You - A Real Name

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker,

——————

“You been thinking about names?” Isaac asked, flopping down on the couch. Smiling, her hands folded over each other casually in her lap as she gazed expectantly to her pet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied with the softest of a nod. She had ordered him days before to come up with names for himself, a strange request. A master would want to be the one to name their pet, would they not? Weren’t those the rules?

“Got any in mind? Any you like?”

“No, ma’am.” 

Her face dropped a smidge in disappointment, churning a quease in his belly, before she jumped back to her feet. “Give me just one second.” Stepping to the short shelf pushed against the opposite wall, she studied the titles intently, before pulling one out with excitement.

“Here’s some names. A whole book of ‘em.” Isaac announced, flipping to the first page of the thick book, filled to the brim with them, “Edith uses this one all the time, and pretty much all’ve our rescues pick one from in here. I’ll read some out to you, and maybe you’ll hear one you like.”

She recited each and every one in the order they were listed in, looking to him after each name. It was almost as if she wanted his approval, such a foreign concept that 253719 didn’t understand. Though, it was usual for him not to understand her, the other masters, or any of the out of line pets around him.

“Abraham? Arthur? Atticus?” She listed, turning to him with her tender, kind smile that meant even though things were weird, he wasn’t being bad. 

“Whatever pleases you, Master.” He had merely replied after every look, the safe answer he held close to his heart. Nearly was he not even listening, mind wandering to emptiness as he kneeled on the rug beside her. But she continued still, not satisfied with it. With him. 

Until one name.

“August?” She inquired, and he perked up, the lightest of a glimmer in his eye. He recognized August. Isaac chuckled, giving him a sweet pet to the head that he leaned eagerly into. “You like that one?”

He didn’t like it necessarily, a pet didn’t like, but his master did.

Fall was his master’s favorite season, where all of the magically vibrant colored leaves would fly through the chill turning air. The month of August fell during fall, right? He could have sworn it did. 

252719 remembered his master repeating his statement of likeness every year as they sat together on the porch, 252719 kneeling beside him as he smoked. I just love fall, such a pleasant time, he would say, a rare smile strung over his lips. The foul smelling smoke would fill his pet’s nostrils, filling his lungs and tempting him to cough, but he wouldn’t. He was good enough to know not to.

And if his master so decided he wanted to utilize him for another purpose, one he wasn’t designed for but his master enjoyed, he would welcome the stinging burn of the cigarette digging a sizzling hole into his exposed flesh. He would whimper and whine pathetically with affliction, just as his master liked it.

252719 missed his master. He missed him so much it hurt, terribly so, tying suffocating knots all throughout his grief stricken body. Even the pain he inflicted the pet missed.

But they wouldn’t let him leave. Especially the one that was his new master who said she wasn’t but he knew she was. She said no running away, and so he couldn’t. 

But he wanted to.

And wanting was weird and bad. He was not supposed to want, but he did and it kept him up at night, tossing and turning over memories of his master, over anxieties of this new place where everything is confusing and strange. How it was changing him and making him so very bad.

“Yes ma’am.” 252719 - no, August - mumbled, to her glee. 

August. He had a name now. A real name. Not like the numbers his master called him by. He had a person name.

And August liked it.

…

The clothes were terribly uncomfortable. Not being used to having fabric layered over his skin he cringed, scrunching the soft lines of his plush face. 374629 was not ungrateful, never would he dare to be, he simply did not understand why his master had made him dress. He never had clothing beside a dingy pair of boxers in the facility, and was convinced he would not outside of it either. But there he was, anyway, adorned in his master’s clothing.

He was his master, right?

Me too.

374629 couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Because of course his master couldn’t be a guard dog, let alone a boxie himself. Masters were people, not pets, and such things were not interchangeable, he knew that. 

His master didn’t even act like a pet. No crawling, no mantras - except for, well, when he repeated his pet’s, but that was different, was it not? -  no collar, no master, no pet.

His master was not a pet. He was sure that was not what he had meant, and a real pet like him should not have even been worrying about it. All he needed to worry about was keeping his master completely and absolutely safe. 

So he forced his brain back into blank and utter emptiness once again, saving himself for the danger of any possible threat. He would keep himself vigilant like he was trained to be. 

His master hummed as he cooked, with a sing-song voice creamy like butter that licked his ears with the hint of gravel. He twirled the spoon around the pot, sticky with hot mac and cheese that took over the air of the apartment. 

374629 had never had macaroni before, only the gray slop his handler had plopped into his dog bowl at least once a day. He held no hope for the chance of receiving any, knowing his place well. 

So when his master, still humming loud and clear, placed a large, human sized bowl of macaroni before him, 374629 didn’t know what to do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to eat it, that was for sure. So he waited.

His master plopped down at the table beside him with his own bowl, steaming the same as his. “That’s for you, okay? I want you to eat as much as you feel you can, if, um, that’s okay.”

Oh. 

Maybe… maybe it was for him. 

And so he ate. Warily at first, waiting for a kick to the face as he descended his mouth to the height of the food, ass up and hands on the wood. Position five. It never came.

But was his meal delicious. 

He’d never tasted anything so good in his life, so wonderful he could never believe he was deserving of it. It spread a cozy warmth of magic through his mouth, not enough to burn but enough to have him melting in a puddle on the floor. Tastebuds sparkling with excitement he plunged back in for more, scooping up pieces vigorously with his tongue and allowing them to dance through his mouth as he chewed.

“So” his master started, pulling him away from the heaven that was his dinner,  “Got any name ideas? It can be anything.”

Oh, he was so bad. Had he missed an order? Was he supposed to have been doing so?

“N- no, sir.” He didn’t even want to dare think about a name for himself. His name was for his master to decide, it was the rules. He couldn’t disobey, but was he really, when his master wanted it? 374629 swallowed another mouthful of cheese dripping noodles, mouth dribbling with sticky remains that pooled at his chin.

“That’s okay.” His master told him, although he knew he didn’t mean it. Nothing was okay when your pet was too stupid for you. “I wish… I had Edith’s book with me… I guess we’ll just have to think about it for a bit. Just let me know if anything comes to mind, um, that you like.”

He could… do that. Did he know any names? He didn’t even have one himself.

He knew… he knew His handler’s name. His first, not just his last, even if he wasn’t really supposed to. Of course he had never called him by it, only Handler Parker, but he’d heard it before.

Hey, Simon, I guess you’ve finally gotten this one under your control.

He missed his handler, he supposed. Missed the strict order and absence of confusion. With his handler he knew exactly what to do and what not, and now it felt like he was all alone with his training. Really, he was.

Handler Simon Parker.

“Simon?” He shifted up to his master, eyes falling wide, “Is that what you said?”

Had he-

He’d said that out loud-

“That’s a nice one. It fits you. I like it.” His master said, lips upturning to a grin. He looked excited, almost, and terribly pleased. “Do you like it?”

He hadn’t really-

But he did, and his master liked it. 374629 was going to be sick, stomach curling in knots as burning bile bubbled in his belly.

His lips carefully parted, quivering as his fists clenched, uncut nails burrowing into the flesh of his palm. “What- whatever pleases you, Master.” He choked out, words tinged with the rasp of shock as he turned his gaze back to the floor.

“I really like that. I think it’s settled then.” His master giggled, sweet and bubbly that failed to calm his pet’s horrified heart. “Welcome to the family, um, Simon.”

——————

Isaac is from a different connected bbu story I just posted earlier today if you want to check that out here :)

———

Masterlist

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @3-2-whump @taterswhump @fefe658 @whumped-by-glitter

@pigeonwhumps @whumpinthepot @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @tippytappytyping @ivymyers

@octopus-reactivated @loserwithsyle @snakebites-and-ink @itsawhumpsideblog @otterfrost

@parasiticwhumpee @starrysky888 @isntthisblank

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[eiightysixbaby]

right here, right now

pairing: jonathan byers x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

summary: it's almost time to try and save the world, again. but before you do, you and jonathan have something to take care of.

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT some angst, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names

author’s note: aahhhh, nothing like some ‘i need to have you right now because the world might end and idk if i’ll ever get to have you again’ smut

You aren't really sure how long it had been. You aren't sure how long it would be, until Nancy patched through on the walkie talkies to give you the all clear to join the others or until something killed you, whichever came first.

You sit in the back seat of Steve's BMW, clenching and unclenching your fist around your baseball bat to ease your nerves. You're parked off the side of the road, close but not too close to the most recent gate that had opened up in Hawkins. Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin had gone through, preparing to enact the first phase of the plan. You'd spent the last couple of days preparing, giving yourselves until the last possible moment to ensure everything was perfect. To ensure that you could seal up the contents of the Upside Down forever - lock them away, never to seep into your reality ever again.

But now, as you sit trembling on the leather bench seat, the details don't matter. What does matter, a fact gone unspoken but known by each of you equally, is that this is your last chance. If you fail this time - and the possibility of that is very real - it will cost you your lives. It will cost the lives of everyone in this town; Hawkins will fall.

Jonathan's breathing is staggered beside you, his body shuddering with each exhale. He's trying not to panic for your sake, but you know he's fearing for you and for Will, for his mom, for himself. For everyone.

The world is dark around you, nightfall having hit what feels like eons ago. Your teeth chatter although it isn't cold, and you startle momentarily when you feel Jonathan's hand come to rest on your thigh.

"Hey," he says softly, bringing your focus onto him and only him. "It's gonna be okay, yeah? We're going to get through this."

You're silent for a moment. "What if we don't this time, Jon?" You can barely look at him as you say the words, because you fear you'll burst into tears if you meet those soft honey eyes.

He can see your sturdy resolve beginning to crumble, and he drops his weapon and pulls you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "Don't think like that, okay? We're going to do this, we have to do this."

You know that he's saying this to convince the both of you, you know he doesn't fully believe it himself, but you appreciate the reassurance regardless. You bury your face further into the soft fabric of his shirt, taking a long, deep inhale. He smells as he always has, like laundry detergent and his cologne and a faint hint of coffee.

You don't want to think about the fact that this could be the last time you get to smell his smell.

Before you can stop them, a few stray tears escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You sniffle quietly, trying to collect yourself once more, but Jonathan's already alert to your upset.

"Hey, hey," he soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle finger. "Baby, I'm here with you. I'm here."

You don't want to say what you're thinking - But what if you aren't always here? What if this is the last moment we have together? - and so you say nothing. Your lip wobbles as you take a shaky breath, more tears rolling warm and heavy down your skin.

Jonathan is quick to wipe them away, the pad of his thumbs so soft as they rid your face of the saltwater streaks.

"I'm so scared," is all you can say before he's hugging you tight against him once more, his grip on you firm and comforting.

"I know, I know," he rocks you back and forth, kissing your forehead. "Me too."

You pull back suddenly, feeling the need to look him in his eyes. "I love you so much, more than I've ever loved anything in my life."

"More than you love birthday cake milkshakes from Benny's?" he jokes, the left corner of his mouth tugging upward in a slight smirk.

You laugh, a watery sound through your ebbing tears. "Oh, on second thought, never mind..."

He joins in on your laughter, and for a moment everything is normal. For a moment you're on the couch in his living room and Joyce is making cookies in the kitchen, and you aren't about to fight monsters and try to save the world, again. You appreciate his willingness to try and make you smile, even in the bad moments.

"I love you too, you know that. I always will." he returns your sentiment once your giggles have subsided, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

You kiss him back eagerly, his mouth a welcome reprieve from the constant terror your life has been lately.

You can't quite pinpoint the moment it goes from sweet and tender to needy and hot, but it happens quickly. One moment his lips move slowly against yours, his hands soft on your cheeks, and the next his tongue is prying into your mouth and your hands are tangled in his hair and tugging. You're pulling yourself onto his lap, knees bracketing his hips, both of you breathing heavily.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes searching your face. "You really want to do this right now?" he checks, waiting for your permission.

You nod quickly. "Yes, right now." There's a pause, and then. "I don't know when we'll get to do this again."

It's a devastating statement if you really think about it, but neither of you are planning on thinking too hard. He doesn't dwell on the undertones of it, instead he lets his hunger take over.

You thought you'd been desperate to have him before, like that time after he was sick for two straight weeks and you couldn't see him, or when you'd teased him so bad beneath your lunch table senior year that he'd dragged you into the janitor's closet and made you late for the next class. But this? This was new, this rivaled every time before it. You were primal, animalistic in the way you licked into each other's open mouths, determined in the way you undid his belt and pushed his jeans down his thighs.

It was a desperation that could only come from such a dire sense of urgency - the end of the world wasn't necessarily far away, after all.

He wastes no time helping you shed your pants, both of you knowing that this isn't the time for drawn-out foreplay or extensive teasing - you never know when Nancy's voice might sound over the walkie.

Good thing for him, you're already soaking through your panties, the severity of the situation only turning you on further in some sick, twisted way. You need to have him, there's no questioning it.

You let out a harsh whine when his lips latch onto your neck, sucking hard on the tender skin, his hands gripping your hips with a ferocity you've never felt from him before. He guides you over his cock, letting his shaft slide through your folds, your juices coating him. He hisses at the sensation, his cheeks flushing a deep pink that you can decipher even in the low lighting.

"Shit, baby," he rasps, letting his head fall back against the seat.

You give him a sly little smirk. "Am I losing ya already?" you tease, satisfied when he rolls his eyes.

"No," he says, and before you can process it he's completely flipped your position; you now lying down along the cool leather seat, his body hovering over yours. "Definitely not."

Your lips part in an attempt to say something, but no words can come out before he's kissing you once more. Your legs fall open easily, allowing him space to fully slot himself between them. He lets out strained whimpers when he licks into your eager mouth, your hands splayed across his back, nails digging into the skin through his shirt.

"Baby," you pant. "I can't wait any longer, I need you," your voice is breathy, impatient.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmurs against your cheek. "I'm gonna take care of you."

In seconds he's got his hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, slowly guiding the tip into your weeping entrance. You gasp at the initial intrusion, the sound turning into something closer to a scream the more of him you take.

"Jonathan, Jonathan," you mumble mindlessly, drunk on his cock and he's only been inside of you for thirty seconds. In normal circumstances he may have teased you, made your face flush with heat as he taunted your desperation. But these aren't normal circumstances, and he's just as needy as you are.

"I know, angel, I know," he murmurs. "Feels so good, huh?"

You nod, pressing sloppy kisses to his lips as he starts to move inside of you. The drag of his length out and in and then out again has you nearly delirious, bringing every inch of your body to life, as if you're a live wire.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he curses, picking up his pace rapidly.

The car fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths and moans and sighs. You're able to almost forget, like this. With his weight on top of you and his cock hitting the perfect spot inside, you can almost pretend like you don't have a baseball bat and an axe sitting on the floor of the vehicle, signifiers of your impending battle. You try to ignore the way the street lights flicker outside, something you know to be a sign of more than just faulty bulbs.

His teeth nip at your earlobe, a weakness of yours, and you know that he's seen the flickering too. It's his silent way of trying to distract you as best he can. Paired with the relentless way in which he pounds into you, it works, your brain nearly shutting off as you zone in on his grunts and whines.

"I love you," he pants. "So fucking much."

He tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, and only when he lets go do you reply. "I love you, fuck I love you. Feels so good, Jon."

He chuckles lightly at this, satisfied with his ability to bring you such pleasure. "You feel good, too. You have no fucking idea," he praises, resting his forehead against yours as he maintains his steady pace.

There's something in your gut that tells you you don't have much time before your friends will page you, and as if reading your mind, Jonathan's right hand finds its way between your thighs. The pad of his thumb begins to rub quick circles over your clit, your breathing growing heavier. You feel electric beneath his touch, succumbing entirely to how good he’s making you feel.

"You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, angel?" he asks, knowing if he keeps up his actions, you'll be hurtling over the edge in no time.

"Yes!" you cry, "Yes Jonathan, fuck. I want to be a good girl, wanna cum for you."

He dips his head low, his mouth against the shell of your ear. "So do it, then," he instructs, his voice deliciously husky, his tone commanding.

It's all you need to fully reach your breaking point, and your legs shake as you cum around his cock. His name spills from your lips in a shattered cry, back arching off of the seat beneath you. Your orgasm seems to last forever, your walls squeezing him tight until he's spilling inside of you, moaning your name followed by a string of curses. He collapses on top of you, and it's so comforting to feel the weight of him. To feel and hear him breathing.

The euphoric haze you’d been caught up in, the primal urge that had taken control of you starts to fade. You don’t want reality to set in, you want to fend it off for as long as possible, but it’s too late. Fear creeps its way back into your throat, and you cling tighter to Jonathan.

He senses your unease and you know he’s feeling it again, too. So when he speaks, his voice slightly hoarse from use, you’re expecting him to say something serious. “Do you think Steve will be mad we fucked in his car?"

You snort, genuinely caught off guard by the lighthearted question. "Let's save the world first, and then we can decide if we're even gonna tell him."

Jonathan laughs, and the sound tugs at your heart strings. It's one of your favorite sounds, and you only hope you get to hear it for years to come.

You kiss him, slow and passionate before deciding you need to redress. You prepare your backpack of necessary tools, you hold his hand as you wait for Nancy's signal.

And with ever perfect timing, her voice comes through the static.

One squeeze of your hand. Two. Three.

I. Love. You.

[altf4d3lete]

Okay, this might be an unpopular opinion, but I always find it weird when writers have Wednesday refer to Enid as “Cara Mia.” It just feels unnatural to me cause the last thing she wants is to become her parents and she’s heard them refer to each as that so many time that it would only serve as a “cringy” reminder to her.

That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t use pet name, but I think they’d be less of the traditional romantic ones.

Honestly I have seen this opinion before and I do not disagree with it. I will say though that I have had Wednesday call Enid a plethora of pet names especially in dumb blonde, but I found that as I wrote the characters more I started drifting from it. It’s a personal preference, really. And I feel kind of the same way, except it doesn’t really take me out of the immersion when I see other writers use it.

I very much see where you are coming from anon but also the gomezification of Wednesday is a rly cute tag to sift through. Her giving in because she just can’t resist Enid is an adorable trope, I must say.

[beskarandblasters]

Hell Was The Journey But It Brought Me Heaven

Part Five of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Author’s note: Stay tuned until the end for a special announcement! 👀

Chapter summary: A rude awakening that ends with the sweetest reunion.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, made up fallout lore (I made up my own vault ok), angst, canon typical violence, restraints, blood, fingering, vaginal sex, irradiated creampie, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), praise kink, fluffy ending, use of RadAway, no use of y/n

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t put my best friend in an unsafe situation,” Reina says, unlocking the gate to the vault. 

“Right…”

“You just have to change into one of Vault-Tec’s jumpsuits beforehand.”

“Why?”

“It’s what everyone will wear in the vaults, frozen or not. We want to test how they hold up being frozen, how they react to the oils on our skin. That type of thing.”

“…I see.”

Something in your gut tells you this is a bad idea. You could turn back now and tell her that you changed your mind. But her hopefulness stops you from saying no, the desire to not want to disappoint your friend. She’s been working on this for months and she seems so proud of it, so sure that it’ll be vital to saving the world in the face of war. 

“So you’ll be compensated for your time after the trial is over,” she says as you descend lower into the vault. 

“Got it.” 

“And like I said before, you’ll be guaranteed a spot in the vaults should we ever need to use them… But I’d get you in one anyway, of course.”

“Thanks, Reina.”

She leads you into a bleak room, with copious racks of blue and yellow Vault-Tec jumpsuits. On the back of the suits, there’s a large zero in yellow writing. There’s a shelf of boots in the back of the room, along with a wall of lockers. 

“Find one that fits and then you can place all your stuff in one of the lockers. And make sure you grab a Pip Boy, okay? It goes on your left wrist.”

“What’s a Pip Boy again?”

You vaguely remember seeing an ad where they were mentioned but don’t remember any details. 

“They’re on the shelf next to the boots. We just want to test how they hold up when frozen.”

…She didn’t answer your question but okay. 

“Alright. Thanks,” you nod, starting to get undressed as she opens the door. 

You slip on the suit and find that it’s slightly uncomfortable. But at least you’ll be unconscious the entire time you have to wear it. You find a pair of boots in your size and slide a Pip Boy on your wrist. You still don’t really understand what it is. From what you can tell, it’s just a thick silver cuff with a black and green display on the screen. It asks you to register your information so you do so, figuring it’ll be important for the trial. 

But once you’ve changed, you meet her in the hallway, anxiously walking through the vault. She brings you to a room full of large silver cylinders, a large glass panel in the middle of each of them. She opens the door to the first one, helping you get situated inside. Your nerves are shot, adrenaline coursing through your body. It’ll be painless, that’s for sure. But who’s to say you won’t come from this experience a changed person?

It doesn’t matter. It’s for the greater good. 

Now or never. 

“See you on the other side,” she smiles, sealing you inside. 

You do breathing exercises until everything fades to black. 

-

You’re ripped from your chamber, the sleepiness still settled in your limbs. Before your eyes can adjust to the light you’re thrown onto the floor, scrambling upright. Why would Reina or another Vault-Tec employee for that matter wake you up like this? 

You blink a few times and look at who’s standing before you– two men and a woman, dirty, wearing ragged, worn clothing. The two men grab you by your upper arms and force you to stand up. 

“Do you work for Vault-Tec?” you ask, utterly confused. 

They share a laugh, exchanging menacing smiles with each other. 

“I don’t understand. I’m part of an experiment for Vault-Tec. I was just supposed to be frozen for a few days for a thousand dollars cash and a guaranteed spot in the vault.” 

“Oh, you got a spot in the vault alright. Bring her to the surface, boys,” the woman says. 

“Who are you people? Where’s Reina?”

“If you don’t stop yapping, we’ll gag you,” the woman says, rolling her eyes as you’re forced to head up to the surface. 

As you walk through the vault you notice the place is trashed. Blood is smeared on the floor, all over the walls. Dead bodies litter the place, all donning the same jumpsuit you’re wearing. The fear surges through your body, your legs threatening to give out underneath you. If it weren’t for the men holding you upright you would’ve collapsed by now, the fear and shock finally settling it. 

How long were you frozen? Where’s Reina? Who are these people and where are they taking you? Why is this place full of dead bodies?

The harsh sunlight on the surface stings your eyes. You glance around once your eyes get adjusted and find that the surface is… different to say the least. It’s a barren wasteland, void of any life, except for the group of people standing near the prisoners. A band of people, similar in appearance to the ones escorting you; rugged attire, faces affected by the harsh climate, and dirty. But as for the prisoners, they’re dressed like you; blue and yellow jumpsuits, boots, a Pip Boy on their wrists, a big zero on their backs. 

You’re forced to your knees, in front of the group of prisoners. Your wrists are bound together with rope. You look around you, hoping to recognize someone. But it isn’t until they bring up the last prisoner that you see a familiar face; Reina. 

She’s placed beside you, staring straight ahead of her and not daring to glance in your direction. The group of… raiders stand before you, arms folded, menacing smiles on their faces, and covered head to toe in weapons. They outnumber you. They’re a group of at least ten compared to your group of five. A woman who seems to be their leader starts speaking first. 

“I’m sure you’re all feeling lost right now… Let me summarize the past two hundred years for you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. The weight of reality threatens to come crashing down on you. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to run. But for the sake of learning what’s been going on for the past… two hundred years, you listen to the strange woman. 

“Those of you who signed up to be a part of Vault-Tec’s little experiment… They failed you. They forgot about you long before the bombs dropped, before the war even started.” 

She paces back and forth, hands behind her back as she continues. 

“And now thanks to us, you've awoken from your eternal slumber. So, to repay us, you’ll be living as our servants.”

You feel like you’re gonna be sick, nausea washes over you as the wind whips your face. The weight of reality threatens to crush you, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness on the brink of swallowing you whole. Your ears start ringing and everything around you turns to white noise. You’re forced upright and placed into a single file line. The group of raiders surround you, guns drawn to prevent anyone from trying to break away. Reina’s in front of you. You have to ask her for more clarity. But maybe once your anxiety subsides. 

Your mind is swirling with questions. 

War. Bombs. Vaults. Your family. Your friends. 

Cooper. 

You can't process that it’s been two hundred years since that fateful night Reina locked you in the freezer. Your mind refuses to accept it. But as you walk through the wasteland, you slowly work up the courage to confront her. 

“Did you know?” you say suddenly. 

“Did I know what?”

“That they were just going to forget about me for two hundred plus years.”

“…Yes.”

“Quiet!” one of the male raiders shouts. 

But you don’t listen. 

“I should’ve known better. Cooper always talked about how shady Vault-Tec was,” you mutter to yourself. 

“Cooper?”

Fuck. 

“Do you mean Cooper Howard?”

“Uhh…”

“I said quiet!” the raider shouts again. 

“If I’m telling the truth right now then so are you.”

“He would just tell me about how his wife worked there and how the company seemed to have suspicious motives.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?” you retort, scoffing at her audacity to even be demanding answers from you right now. You fucked a married man. She locked her best friend in a freezer for two hundred years and yet she’s the one acting like you committed a heinous crime.

“Under what circumstances did he tell you all this?”

“After we slept together,” you say smugly. 

You expect to get yelled at again but instead, another raider chimes in. 

“You slept with The Man From Deadhorse?”

“How long?” Reina asks. 

“Not that it’s anybody's business, but from when I started on the film up until the day of the premiere.” You wanted to rub it in her face. She had been single at the time, bemoaning the fact to you whenever you hung out.

“So you were sleeping with him until about two days before you entered the vault?”

“Yeah, but that’s beside the fucking point. You need to tell me everything you know now.”

“Vault Zero was originally an experiment to see how long the body could last in a cryogenic freezer.”

“You told me it would be a couple of days.”

“I lied.”

“But… why? We were friends. Why would you do this to me?” 

“They were pressuring me to find test subjects.”

“What made you ask me? Did I just mean nothing to you?”

She doesn’t answer, continuing forward but you press further. 

“What about you? How did you get thrown in there?”

“Against my will. They were short on test subjects and threw me in there a few days before the war started.”

“When did the war start?”

“…October.”

Ten months. Ten months before the war had even started, you were locked in that vault. 

Ten. Months.

Two hundred years and ten months.

You fight the urge to cry, instead opening your mouth to fire a retort back at her. But the raider walking beside you shoves you with the barrel of his gun. 

“Gossip time is over,” he grunts. 

But now that you think about it, you don’t have anything to say to her. 

-

You walk for what feels like hours upon hours. The rope on your wrists irritates your skin and you want nothing more than to rip it off you and run as fast as you can. But on second thought, you know you wouldn’t last an hour in the wild on your own. There’s so much you have to learn about the world again. It’s overwhelming, thinking about what’s changed over the past two centuries. You’re left wondering what became of your home, what became of your family and friends, what became of Cooper. 

But for that, you feel fucking stupid. Your affair ended months before the war started. Who knows what has transpired in life since then? He could’ve patched things up with Barb. He could’ve moved on and forgotten all about you. He could’ve found another young production assistant to spend his nights with. 

Maybe he thought about you in your absence. Maybe he asked Emil about where you went. Maybe he stayed up late at night, thinking about what could’ve been. 

Probably not. 

Suddenly you wish you were never pulled from the freezer. 

-

After what feels like forever, you arrive at the raider's base camp; a shanty town of tents and old cars. The place is littered with rubble, piles of old machinery, and oil drums. The raiders force you and the others on your knees again in a single-file row. The same woman as before paces back and forth before the group, hands behind her back like always, getting ready to tell you what’s expected of you as their new “slaves”. 

But then she stops, looking past the group and out into the distance. She draws her gun and points behind you in the distance. 

“Get outta here, you fucking shuffler.”

You try to look behind you but all you can see is the silhouette of a man, wearing a hat and a long ragged coat. 

“Not goin’ anywhere until I get what I’m after.” 

That voice. 

You hear the sound of a piece of paper unfolding, prompting the woman to say, “That’s not me.”

“Sure looks a whole lot like you.” You can tell by his voice that he’s smirking. 

Could it be? 

“You’re outta your mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you… At least not without a fight.”

She shoots at the mysterious man. The crackle of the gunshot rings through your ears, making you flinch. You try to crouch down lower to miss getting caught in the crossfire and shield one of your ears with your shoulder at least. But you expect him to be dead now, falling to the ground with blood pooling around him. 

But instead, he laughs. 

“Well… I was afraid you’d say that.”

Another gunshot. But not from the woman, from the man. 

She falls to the ground, gurgling blood in her throat and trying desperately to yell, “After him!”

The other raiders open fire, bullets flying all around you. Some of the new prisoners try to run, seizing the opportunity to make a mad dash. Some of them succeed, running far away into the wastelands. But some fail, getting hit by stray bullets and collapsing to the ground. You stay low, inching farther away and taking cover behind an oil drum. You listen as the gunfire rages on, people screaming and crying out in pain. 

You’re at war with yourself, part of you screaming, run far away from here. But the other part of you tells you to wait it out, let them all shoot each other to death, and loot their supplies after. You decide to listen to the latter voice instead. 

You peek out from behind the oil drum, watching as the man reloads his gun. You haven’t seen the front of him yet but you’re dying to see his face. That voice… God, it sounded so familiar. 

You return to center and close your eyes, hoping everything will stop soon. You’re not sure where Reina is, if she ran off, if she’s dead or alive. But to be honest, you don’t care. You’ve quickly learned one rule of the wasteland so far– do this shit alone. 

But eventually, the gunfire and the screams stop. You don’t open your eyes yet, listening intently for any signs of life. Footsteps creep near you and you freeze, hoping no one looks behind the oil drum. But it’s too late. 

“What do we have here?” 

That voice. 

You open your eyes and look at the strange man standing before you– rugged skin, no nose, no hair, tattered clothing, and hazel eyes. You’ve seen those eyes before. 

The man crouches down and reaches into his pocket for a switchblade. You flinch for a moment but realize he’s just cutting the rope around your wrists. Once your hands are free you soothe the irritated skin on your wrists, looking up at the man again. His gaze softens. And now that he’s closer to you, you can confirm that you’ve definitely seen those eyes before. 

“Cooper?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Cooper Howard, I’d recognize that voice anywhere,” you say, brushing your thumb over his textured cheek. “And those eyes.”

He closes his eyes and melts at your touch, placing a gloved hand over yours. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he whispers. 

“Me either… But I’m glad you found me.”

An overwhelming emotion washes over you and you can’t help but pull him into you, clutching onto him for dear life. You’re breaking down, letting the hot tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Cooper, I’m so scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he says, rubbing your back. “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

He helps you stand upright, snaking an arm around your waist as he leads you into the colony of tents. He brings you to one messily labeled “med” with spray paint. Inside there are a few stretchers and copious amounts of medical supplies lining the perimeter of the tent. He sets you down on a stretcher and kneels before you, inspecting you for any injuries. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head no.

“I promise I’ll explain everything to you, okay?”

“What happened to you?”

“Exposed to radiation, sweetheart.”

“And it turned you into-”

“A ghoul.”

A ghoul… You’re not sure what that means. Everything’s so confusing and overwhelming. 

He gets up and grabs a canteen of water, handing it to you as he sits on the stretcher beside you. 

“Are you… alone out here?” You ask after you take a sip. 

“...I am.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I still want you.”

“Sweetheart… trust me, you don’t.”

“But I do.”

“You don’t want to wake up next to this mug every morning.”

“Cooper, I’m still attracted to you now like I was back then. I’ve always loved you for more than your appearance. Plus… it was hot watching you kill all those bad guys,” you say, turning towards him. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” 

You lean forward and kiss him. It feels different but also the same simultaneously, caressing the face of your man, the new version of him. His hands roam your body, running along your outline in the jumpsuit. He pulls back and murmurs, “Let’s get you out of this fuckin’ suit.”

He moves off the stretcher and works to undress you, starting with your boots and working his way up. He unzips the top of your jumpsuit, helping you up so you can shimmy out of it, tossing the Pip Boy to the ground. And once your bra and underwear are off, you’re completely bare. 

You lie back down on the cot, legs spread apart as he gets situated in between your thighs. He tugs off his glove and spits into his hand, playing with your entrance. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. He inserts one finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your soft walls. His other hand gravitates to your breast, caressing the outline before traveling to your nipple. Your breath hitches as he takes it between his fingertips, working into a stiff peak before moving to the next one. 

“All these years later and you’re still just as desperate for me,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you shoot back with a shaky breath. “It’s only been like a couple of days for me.”

“You know I’m only teasin’, sweetheart. Love gettin’ you all worked up like this,” he says, adding a second finger. 

He makes a come here motion with his two fingers, curling them against your g-spot as you writhe against the stretcher. 

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you respond, voice high-pitched and dripping with arousal.

“Let me feel it,” he commands. 

With one last motion of his fingers, you cum around them, clenching and releasing them erratically. Your moans and the wet, squelching sounds of your cunt fill the tent, looking directly into his eyes as you cum. You roll your hips into his hand, riding out the remainder of your high. He pulls his hand from you when you’re done and brings it to his mouth, tasting your spend. 

“My good girl. So sweet,” he praises. 

He pulls his cock out of his pants and hovers above you, gathering more of your spend with his hand and spreading it on his cock. Another shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. God, you needed him. 

“Ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You nod and it’s then that he finally enters you, splitting you apart with his cock. Your moan gets caught in your throat as you get adjusted to his size, staring directly into his eyes again. He places his hands by either side of your head, thrusting in and out of you repeatedly. 

“Still feels just as good,” he says, jaw going slack as he watches your squirm underneath him. 

You’re past sentences, only responding in the form of whimpers. Your moans grow incessant as your pleasure builds, thanks to his cock sliding in and out of you. He slams his hips into you one final time and with that, you finally cum. Your cunt convulses as the muscles in your core contract and release, waves of pleasure surging through your body. Your moans are like music to his ears, a familiar sound he’ll never get sick of. He curses under his breath and before you know it he’s coming inside you. His cum paints your insides as his thrusts grow sloppy. You finish riding out your highs together, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. Eventually, his hips slow to a stop and he remains inside you, looking down at you with all of the love and admiration in the world. 

Maybe it’s the rush of hormones. Maybe it’s the past twenty-four hours making you emotional. Maybe it’s the weight of being reunited. But you’re reminded of how much you love him. And now that he’s finally yours you’re not afraid to say it.

“Cooper?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you blurt out, studying his face for his reaction. 

But he just smiles and says, “I love you, too.”

He leans down and kisses you, soft and gentle before trailing kisses down your jawline. 

You feel his cum leak out of you and remember he came inside you for once. 

“I can’t believe you actually came inside me.”

“Speaking of that,” he groans, sliding off the stretcher and rummaging through the medical supplies. He grabs a clear bag filled with a brownish liquid, labeled with the word RadAway and an IV.

“You’re gonna need this, though.”

“What’s this?”

“Gets rid of the radiation I just released inside ya.”

You sigh and lean back on the stretcher, letting him hook you up to the medicine.

“What about like… pregnancy?”

“Ghouls are sterile,” he chuckles. “You got a lot to learn about the world, sweetheart.”

“I know… But at least I get to do it with you.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

End note: I would say that we reached the end for these two but that’s not entirely true! I’ve decided to write a series of one off stories about Cooper showing the Reader the ways of the wasteland! The new loose fit series will be called With You By My Side! I just want to thank @clawdee for being my rock throughout this series, for beta reading these chapters at an incredible rate for y’all, and always being there to bounce around ideas with me! And I want to thank all of you for reading, commenting, and reblogging. I feel so lucky I get to share this story with y’all! I hope you’ll catch up with these two in With You By My Side 🤍

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @chiyo13 @valkyreally @ivyinthesun

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Haunted - BAU team.

Summary: A particularly difficult case leaves you with death haunting your vision.

Warnings: General criminal minds issues, mentions of: weapons, suicide, injuries, explosion, fire, imagined death, anxiety attack, panic attack, anger, angst, crying, grounding exercises, exhaustion and fatigue, praise, pet names,

Pairing: BAU team x reader (Platonic/ Otherwise).

Word count: 2,011.

Having anxiety was no secret. I never was the best at hiding it and the team were well aware of how bad it could be but I handled myself when I needed to. I had tried to hide it from the moment I met them but I'd never shown how debilitating it was at the worst times.

The case we had been greeted with this morning was an active shooter and we all barely got out alive. Through having to split up and me losing my partner in the flurry of bodies, we were lucky to make it home. There was no doubt we could all do our jobs properly, we were well versed in our line of work but the horror of losing them was at the forefront of my mind the entire time, haunting me through the case as my mind ran rampant with what-ifs. I should have known it was useless trying to hide my thoughts around a team of the most prolific profilers but god did I try.

We surveyed the building, kitted in vests and guns, deducing this would be his endgame and we were right. Prentiss had my six and we worked seamlessly to scout our section of the building. But he caught us off guard with his final move. We profiled him as narcissistic, arrogant, someone who wanted everyone to know his name but never as a suicidal maniac.

The profile had been right, up until it wasn't, until we recognised some of the floor tiles were fitted with timed pressure bombs. The whole building was a ticking time bomb and we didn't know how long we had until it blew. Our communication lines with each other screeched with shouted warnings of the issue and on three we all ran to the closest exit. Emily and I were the closest to the exit, and the rest of the team spread out further into the death trap.

My chest heaved as I ran as fast as I could, pushing Emily out of the door before she could argue, the pair of us skidding to a stop at a safer distance as the bombs blew the building to pieces and flames engulfed the remaining structure.

The feeling that flooded my body as flames licked at the sky was indescribable, throwing me straight into a rational panic. Frantically, I scrambled towards the building, dodging falling smouldering debris in search of my team, my family, begging for them to be alive. Arms snaked around my waist and yanked me back, my eyes wide as I tried to read Emily's words over the blaze, shattering and sirens. At least she was thinking straight. My heart and stomach were in my throat, tears blurring my vision as I gave up fighting her grip. Penelope's voice was the first thing that filtered through the racket, tears evident in her voice as she begged us to answer, for us all to be safe but I couldn't find my Voice.

My knees practically buckled beneath me as Rossi's voice cracked in my ear followed by the remainder of the team, confirming everyone was present and accounted for. We all got away with bumps and scratches, a sprained wrist or ankle from jumping the building but otherwise unscathed, at least physically.

The day played on repeat in my head as I stood in my office back at the BAU, fake scenarios trampling through my vivid imagination as I watched the team through my blinds. Even David and Aaron were out of their offices, relief clear on their faces as they laughed and joked together. Every so often, they would look over at my window and I would make out I was busy, knowing if I joined them I would bring the mood down and my body would shut down. They had seen bad days, they had experienced their own bad days but they hadn't witnessed me at my worst and I wasn't sure I wanted them to.

My knees trembled as I walked around my desk, sinking into the plushness of my chair but it brought me no relief. Often, I used my job as a way of coping or pushing things away so nobody would see me break but today that method was far too little for what I was feeling. An hour dragged by in a concoction of sweating hands, shaking limbs and the occasional faint laughter from my team. No matter how I tried to drown the world out, I just felt worse, each moment getting more unbearable.

"Jesus Christ," I grated out through clenched teeth, holding my hands behind my head as my chest tightened. "What am I doing?" The question seemed mocking in the silence as I ran my fingers over my face to gather myself. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and towards the door, White-knuckling my files before exiting my office and walking along the catwalk to Aaron's. Eyes instantly locked onto me, following my steps as I fought to regulate my breathing as rapid breathing created spikes of pain in my chest and head. I let out a silent plea in my head for the world to swallow me up, grappling with my image to stay composed.

A shaky hand rose to swing open the door, stumbling slightly towards his desk as tears began to take my vision. The files all but fell from my hands as I doubled over, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I poorly attempted the breathing techniques Spencer had told me about but instead, black spots danced across my vision. It didn't take long for the team to notice my blunder as the sound of footsteps filled my ears, curiosity and worry permeating the air.

I didn't move from my leaning position as they filed in, closing the door and blinds as I struggled to control the broken and ragged breaths that squeezed from my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry, not to break as they watched.

Not here. Not now.

The flare of pain in my chest shocked me as my hand slapped to my chest in panic, palpitations knocking my heartbeat off course. Images of their mangled bodies flooded my mind, each of them lying motionless at horrifying angles in the rubble of the building. The sight of my family lying dead in the dirt as though they were raggedy dolls caused bile to rise in my throat as I glared at the floor.

"Y/N," Emily's voice rang in my ears, her dead lips moving in time. "What do you need?" Scalding tears streamed down my face as I let out a cynical laugh. Why would she ask me that when she was the one lying ripped apart and covered in dirt and soot? What I needed was the least of my worries. Being caged in my own head scared me more than anything and anger quickly rose as I shook the bars, wanting to escape, wanting to move. What I would give to laugh and joke with them in this moment. And yet I knew it was in my head, knew that Emily wasn't really dead but my own brain refused to acknowledge it.

The anger quickly boiled over, becoming unbearable, as I launched an empty glass from Hotch's desk at the wall, sobs clawing from my throat as I dug my nails into the wood in an attempt to ground myself. I tried to filter the facts into my mind; I was safe, my team were alive and trying to get my attention, the world was locked out leaving us in the soft light of the office and I needed help. God, I needed help dealing with this, I couldn't do this one alone.

"Y/N, let's get you sat down." My head shook, betraying me as I let go of the desk, trying to straighten up. The action was instantly regrettable as my head screamed at me and my legs collapsed under me. I gritted my teeth in pain as my head throbbed, joined by pain radiating through my spine and butt. Wonderful, just to add to my plate, I was now ridiculously embarrassed. Heartwrenching sobs worked up in my throat and escaped, leaving me pained and vulnerable to my whole team who were scrambling around me, making sure I wasn't hurt.

My body was unexpectantly hauled into a pair of arms, fight or flight kicking in as I tried to escape them, the room filling with breathless whimpers and wet gasps from my cries. My eyes were tight as vices and the burn of their eyes simmered through me, witnessing my weakness. I loathed that they were seeing me like this, especially at work.

"We've got you, Y/N, We're here." I tried to focus on David's softened voice, gripping his arms as they held me, back resting against his chest. I felt a shift as someone knelt beside us and my eyes shot open, more tears forced from them as the blurry image of Spencer came into a wavering focus. Gentle fingers rested against the pulse point on my wrist as my body vibrated with effortful breaths. I stared up at the tiled ceiling, teeth chattering as I let the pains in my lungs and head run their course. The rest of the team has taken up space in the office, on the sofa, office chairs and even the floor. They'd made such an effort to make me comforted with just analysing the space around us and making themselves fit into it rather than towering over me and making it feel worse.

"Remember the breathing techniques I told you about, stay in the room with us." I nodded shakily, watching with haunted eyes as Spencer's hand circled my other wrist and placed it on his chest in an attempt to have me breathe with him. David's steady, strong heartbeat thumped against my back and I sunk into the feeling of them as JJ's hand came to rest on my ankle. The heat of it burned my cold, clammy skin as slowly but surely my breaths came easier, my eyes cleared of spotted vision and the tingling feeling in my hands and feet subsided. My breathing was still a little unsettled, hiccups emerging between small sobs as my team, my family, encouraged me.

"You're doing so well," Penelope's voice was gentle and sweet, similar to how you would speak to a scared child and the irony stung a little. "You want some water?" I nodded, scrubbing at my face only for silent tears to replace erased ones. A brightly coloured bottle was thrust gently into my eyes and I gratefully took it, gulping down the liquid to soothe the sear in my throat. Shivers began to run down my spine as I calmed down, teeth chattering as the chill overtook and my eyes geared up more as Aaron removed his suit jacket, wrapping it over me as a comforting blanket. My body was trembling as though my blood sugar had plummeted and fatigue set in quickly as all the energy drained from my body and I slumped bonelessly against the older agent.

"Hey baby doll, you got through it, you're okay." I took a deep breath, a small smile twitching on my face as Derek praised me. "We're proud of you."

My eyes began to flutter as I fought to keep them open, gentle murmurs of voices filling the space as the room settled down. Aaron and David's voices registered in a low, soothing hum, barely registering through my exhaustion. Time seemed to dawdle by until I was carefully lifted into strong, warm arms, carrying me across the space and laying me down softly on the sofa. I hummed a thank you as a blanket was draped over me along with the suit jacket and my head nestled down into Emily's lap as the smell of Penelope's lavender laundry detergent wafted from the blanket, lulling me to sleep alongside the gentle nails grazing my scalp.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

mushroom man

[batfamhyperfixation]

Jason, looking at Roy: aren't we all at least a bit homo

Interviewer: ah yes because we are all homo sapiens, I get what you did there

Jason, confused: no I meant when I look at dudes I have gay thoughts

[sbd-laytall]

Avatar: The Last Airbender-Smoke and Shadow #2

[amazingdeadfish]

Oh God, I can't stop thinking that you're planning to create some weird parallel between Hershey and mayor, because she's going to lose her owner and the mayor lost LBD, or something like that.

Or I wonder if Macaque being a "half owner" of a cat and the mayor owning a dog is a way to show how different they are?

Am... Am I too predictable for my own good?

Or am I just gonna do something even worse?

All I can say is that Mayor is- quite frankly, a dog person. They are in fact, a dog. If they were an animal then they would be a dog. And for self indulgent reasons, I would always think of them to be a giant white fluffy one.

I actually also think that it's safe now to admit that the only reason I created Hershey was for the sole purpose for the Mayor to have a dog. At least, that was the original intention. And I knew that Mayor would not actually ever go out of their way to get a dog, and so very certain circumstances had to be created in order for it to work. And so Yīzé, the friendly neighbor next door, was created. But the old man and little dog have grown on me so much that their purposes have far surpassed their original intentions.

Also: Macaque's ownership of Māo is unfortunately next to nothing XDDD. That cat is completely Baihe's responsibility and honestly this guy does not give a single crap about the feline. He's not so much of a cat person, but I can tell you that he's not a dog person either. He's... A monkey.