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ssvnriseya · 3 months ago

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THE STRAWBERRY (D.D)

summary: you prepared the newly harvested strawberries for daryl to eat, but he has other plans.

warnings: MDNI 18+ fingering, making out, teasing, clit sucking, using reader's! cum as sauce, lowercase intended.

note: omg! this is my first ever fan-fiction! please support me! i know it's still not as good as others but it's a start, right?! love ya! (＾ｖ＾)

masterlist

you walked into the room where daryl was usually carving his arrows in.

"hi, maggie and the others should be arriving soon. are you done?"

you walked over to where he is and placed your hands on his shoulders.

"nearin' there." he grunted, as usual. you chuckled and massaged his shoulders.

"you can continue that later, let's greet them outside." you said and pulled away from him. you walked over to the door and held out your hand for him.

he didn't say anything and stood up, carefully placing his stuff away.

"yer' lucky i love ya'" he responded as he took your hand, intertwining it with his.

"i hate your hands, they're so big!" you complained and dragged him outside his basement room.

"ye'll love 'em after ye' see what they can do." he smirked at you.

"shut up, dixon." it was your turn to grunt at him. he continued smirking at you as you both stepped out of the house.

"turned out we were righ' in time." he said nudging you, he pulled you softly towards the car that just arrived.

"rosita! i'm glad you guys are safe!" you hugged rosita then maggie, moving to tara and abraham.

"you can't simply kill the rosita espinosa." she said in a serious face as she smiled at you then walked away with abraham.

"me and daryl will help you all get them to the inventory." you said and turned to daryl who had an unreadable face.

"i didn't say anything." he groaned but you looked at him with puppy eyes and he rolled his eyes at you.

"please?" you asked and gestured to the boxes and crates of supplies that you know maggie, tara and a man from alexandria couldn't carry all by themselves.

"fine."

you smiled and carried one of the boxes and walked to the inventory with daryl.

"you're such a show-off." you huffed at him as you shifted the weight off the box in your arms.

"'m just strong. so is my stamina." he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively through the three boxes he carry.

"keep on dreaming, dixon." you smirked at him and walked faster.

you placed the box of supplies on the floor of the inventory as olivia told you that she'll take care of them.

"are you sure you can arrange them yourself, olivia?" you asked, unsure.

she nodded as she opened a box just as daryl placed his boxes on the floor.

"is that strawberries?!" you asked and walked closer to where she is.

she held up a piece and inspected it, "yes, and i'm guessing it's fresh. the group must have harvested them by themselves."

"can i take home a few?" you asked her with a smile, she smiled sweetly at you and nodded.

she gave you plastic and you placed a few inside. "you know i can't reject those smiles and eyes." she teased.

you giggled and hugged her, "thank you."

you walked over to where daryl impatiently stood. he grunted in relief when he saw you walking over him.

"took ya' long enough."

you showed him the strawberries with a smile. "i'm preparing you strawberries tonight."

"great." he groaned, making you frown.

"if you don't want it, i'll just make spencer chocolate covered stra—" you spoke, upset at him but he cut you off.

"nah, you can prepare me those strawberries." he said, angry at what you said.

it was clear as day for you that daryl hated spencer, as the said man would always find a way to get near you.

you both arrived at the house. he quickly went down his basement room after giving you a kiss.

you went to the kitchen to prepare daryl's strawberries, you put it in a bowl and washed it, draining the water.

you cut off the leaves and went to a cabinet, opening it to get the chocolate syrup.

you carried the bowl of strawberries and syrup on your way down his room.

"your strawberries... and here's chocolate if you want to put them there." you placed the bowl and syrup on his bed.

he quickly stopped what he was doing and sat on the bed, with you sitting beside him.

"i want another sauce." he spoke and stared at your eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows.

"i don't know if there's any other sauce that goes with strawberries... and it'll be really weird if you dip it in mustard or ketchup." you said in disgust.

"nah, not that." daryl said, shaking his head.

you stared at him in confusion, he leaned in quickly. daryl pulled you in a kiss.

he started gentle and soft but it turned passionate. he placed his hands on your cheeks as you kissed him back.

he pushes your body to lay you on the bed, slowly and softly.

he pulled away as you both caught your breaths, he went on top of you leaning all his weight on his elbows that were on either side of your head, careful not to crush you.

daryl pulled in again to kiss you, his kisses were rough and passionate once again.

"d–daryl..." you moaned when he bit your lip, quickly slipping his tongue inside you when you moaned.

he sipped on your tongue and straddled you, careful not to sit on you.

he roamed his hands on your sides, your waist, hips and legs. he squeezed your waist making you moan once again.

you pulled away and tried to catch your breath as his hands found your shorts button.

once he unbuttoned it he tugged on it, putting the denim shorts out of you. he tossed it somewhere.

he looked up at you and kissed your mid-thigh, going up to the strap of your panties, and to you lower stomach.

"p-please." you moaned as he sucked on your lower stomach.

"please, what?" he asked.

"y-you know what..." you moaned in pleasure as he continued teasing you.

"yer' gettin' wet already, huh?" he pointed out the soaked part in your cotton panty. you nodded desperately.

he placed a kiss on the wet part making you shiver, "oh... god!"

daryl continued kissing there and getting the fabric more wet.

he pulled down your underwear and placed a kiss on your bare pussy.

"f–fuck..." you can't help but cuss out. he looked at you in the eyes with something like disappointment.

"what a dirty mouth ya' got there, huh?" he shook his head and went to your pussy again.

he sucked your clit as you moaned, shouting his name. he didn't stop even if you were a moaning mess.

"i–i think i'm going to... i–i feel fluttery." you moaned and tried to hold it in as his mouth worked on your pussy.

"let it out, come on. let me taste ya'." he went faster than his pace making you arch your back and leaned your hips onto him.

you took the pillow and squeezed it as you moaned again after another.

you let it out as you came down from your high, you whimpered when he quickly drank in all your juices, making contact with your sensitive clit every now and then.

"fuck, yer' so sweet. yer' pussy is amazing." he whispered in your ears.

he entered two of his fingers in your cunt without much say, making you arch your back again.

"daryl!" you grunted in pain as you adjusted to the length and size of his fingers.

"you can take it, baby." he whispered in your ears and slowly started moving his fingers.

it made your breath hitched as you moaned in pain and pleasure.

"daryl... faster!" you moaned and can't seem to know where to lean your head, to the right or left.

he started pumping his fingers in and out as you moaned loudly than you had ever.

"please... please, l–let me release again..." you moaned and moved your hips to meet his fingers.

"'m adding another, sweetheart." he said and you nod in desperation to feel more pleasure.

he slowly added another finger and you hissed in pain, you've felt more stretched than ever and after a few thrust of his fingers it quickly was replaced by pleasure.

you moaned and clenched your walls around his fingers. "i–i'm nearing again..." you said between breaths and moans.

he smirked and sped up his fingers as you came once again, he lifted your hips and placed the bowl of strawberries beneath you.

your cum dripped down to the ball, you closed your eyes in exhaustion as daryl removed the bowl beneath you.

he placed it on the corner of the bed again and went around the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a towel.

he went near you and kneeled in front of you, he gently cleaned your cunt making you whimper as the towel made contact with your sensitive cunt.

"i've got ma' sauce, sweetheart." he smiled and wiped your sweat with the other side of the towel.

"h–huh?" you asked confused. he shook his head and slipped your underwear on you, and went to where your shorts were.

he slipped it on you after walking back to you. you sat up as he sat beside you.

he pulled the bowl to his lap and showed it to you. "here."

"i–is that my?" you asked and looked at him with flustered cheeks.

he nodded and you turned redder. "told ya' i want this sauce. went for it."

he bit into it like it's nothing, and possibly acted like it was much more delicious that way.

you looked away from him in embarrassment. you watched as he grabbed a strawberry and dipped it onto the creamy white sauce you created.

you blushed and watched him eat the strawberries with your cum.

#twd fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryldixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #twd #ssvnriseya #daryl dixon x reader #irawrites

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vaspider · 1 year ago

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I can't tell you how fucking good my Thursday was. Like, I'm still processing it.

A few months ago, my cousin, the incredibly talented surgeon, got out of Burning Man right before people got stuck there. I had been checking her Facebook bc I was worried about her, even though we didn't talk much. She's half a dozen years younger than me, and her mom is my dad's baby sister.

I kind of dropped out of contact with most of my cousins when I went to college - I went off to be the weird one, the queer one, the one who didn't get a degree, while most of the rest of that generation... didn't do that. I accepted my status as "rainbow sheep" and figured me and my brother were all I needed.

It never really occurred to me that my cousins wouldn't be as judgmental as their mother. I just assumed they were all kinda looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, the same way their parents do.

My cousin M messaged me and asked if she could call, because Burning Man was the last on a long list of things which had gone wrong recently, and she needed someone to talk to who would understand.

We talked for three hours. Turns out that being the oldest of three in this family and either being or being assumed as a girl gives us an awful lot in common.

We talk pretty much all the time now in texts and on the phone. Turns out that her baby brother - who was 2 when I went to college - lives in town, and her sister just moved out here, too.

Then I found out she was coming up to visit her sister over the holiday and, with 48h notice, invited everybody to our house for dinner. No problem - I just put together turkey, fresh cranberry sauce, canberry sauce, stuffing, green bean casserole, cheese ball, biscuits, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, two kinds of fudge, all gluten-free, by keeping a running task list so anybody who was in the kitchen microwaving soup or whatever could scrub or chop something. I will always cook like the entire Jewish population of Portland might show up at a moment's notice.

All of which led to the moment after Thanksgiving dinner when M hugged Evie as they packed up to go and said, "Yay! More family!" after an afternoon of chatter and everybody pitching in to help finish dinner.

So like... reach out to your cousins, if you haven't talked to 'em much since you became adults. It might not work out.

Then again, it might.

#personal #family #I'm helping M look for jobs up here #if both M and Jake move here i might explode from joy

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trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago

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eddie x fem! reader

masterlist

w/c 7.8k

summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.

warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder

a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.

again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.

“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”

The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.

She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.

When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.

“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”

“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”

“Yes I’m su—,”

Goddamn him.

Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”

Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.

“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.

“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”

“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”

Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”

Type A, that’s how she was.

“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”

Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”

The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.

“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.

Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”

“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”

Dating.

Dating Eddie Munson.

Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—

You’re sweating.

Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.

“W-we’re not dating, just—”

How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?

“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.

“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”

Friends.

Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.

[Two weeks prior]

The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.

Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.

The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.

“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.

An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.

He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.

Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.

“Ed—”

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”

Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.

Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.

Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.

He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.

“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.

Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”

He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.

Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.

“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”

When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.

Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”

Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”

His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.

“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”

He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.

The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.

“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.

Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.

Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.

“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”

“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.

“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”

“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.

Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”

He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”

“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.

“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”

“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”

Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.

“Tooty, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.

You definitely were not fine.

Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.

At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.

Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.

By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.

Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.

Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.

[Thanksgiving Day]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”

Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”

Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.

Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

[2 Weeks prior]

🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day

I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay

Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.

He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”

Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.

His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”

Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”

“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.

“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.

“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”

Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.

Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.

Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.

Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.

Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.

With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.

The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.

Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.

[Thanksgiving]

“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.

“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”

Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.

The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.

Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.

Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”

“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.

Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.

Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”

“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.

The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.

And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.

How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.

It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.

He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”

[2 weeks prior]

His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.

The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.

He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.

He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.

A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.

Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.

A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.

A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.

The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.

“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”

His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.

He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.

Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.

“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”

Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.

Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.

“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”

A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?

Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”

A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.

“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”

And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.

Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.

His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.

You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.

He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.

He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.

[Thanksgiving]

A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”

Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.

The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.

“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”

Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.

“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”

Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”

Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.

“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.

He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”

The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.

It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.

Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.

Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”

Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.

“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”

His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.

“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.

Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.

“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”

Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.

“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.

Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.

Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.

Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.

To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him.

Him and you.

The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.

Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.

Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.

He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.

But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.

Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.

No.

You were much more than that, to him.

More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.

He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.

You were it for him.

The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.

Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.

Yup.

You were it for him.

And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.

hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥

@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷

This is for you

*sacrifices 🖕🏼

#honey i’m home #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #eddie x you angst #Eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you fluff

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thoughtsonkm · 2 months ago

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Hot spring buddies

It was a perfect balance of a fun episode but with a lot of domesticity and quirks and all around softness. Their day to day life when they finally found some free time is truly so peaceful and harmonious. They're just attuned to each other. Mischievousness and teasing is always present, they just can't get enough of having fun together.

Where?! Who?! You been where?! With who?!

JK was like: "Excuse me? You went with MY friends? Not ME? What am I chopped liver? 7 years ago you say? OK FINE

GODDAMMIT it's criminal to not do a original song together! It's criminal to not do an album together! Criminal offense! Judge lock em' up!

And Jimin lulling Jungkook to sleep..ah that angel voice 🥹

"This is our last moment of relaxation" - JK 😭 😭 (I know everything going on was looming on their minds obviously but their hunger to enjoy and live to the fullest until the last minute makes me emo)

NAH the damn haircut 😂 The way he has perfected the boba ball cut. The juxtaposition of his face/hair with his body is so funyyyy.

*Going to the hair stylist* JK: so.. I did a thing Stylist: fuck, okay let me think, I CAN FIX THIS

He brought his cards cause he wanted to play only with Jimin since CT. Why do they have to be so adorable about these little supposedly insignificant details 😭

Look at us. Look how far we've come. Who would've thought?

Okay testosterone calm down, OR DON'T (This was low-key hilarious af tho tbh)

I saw ppl hyperventilating because they were suddenly showing too much (Jimin I'm looking at you) but more than that I think it's nice that they were so relaxed and in their own world, so much so, that they didn't really think much about their every movement.

But also they need to stop with the moaning and grouting every 2 sec tho. Like I get it but? cmon

Sorry but I live for the little funny details like Jungkook drenching the sea urchin in soy sauce and then putting it in vegetable soup to salvage it.

As if you can deny this face anything??

Cause you know there's AYS stash but there's a personal stash too obviously.

Oh twin beds? Let us start our lights foreplay

Jungkook's semi romantic struggles continue. Feed yo man Jimin pls!

The whole ski part of the episode looked so fun. I'm sure they had a blast. This is officially the best activity they've tried during this series.

It was so adorable them continuously falling and getting up. Even the crew kept on falling. The snow must've been so thick.

Snow angel

What in the meta shit is happening next week? I'm not ready to see them react to themselves. In the last episode to the first two episodes? Oh they're out for blood. And I know they're not gonna show what we want to see (ASS SLAP) but still those 5 minutes should be fun.

I wish sapporo would last forever. Weeks passed by so quickly. Why is it only one episode left? And then we're never seeing them again until next year (at least we have hobis discharge and the bts eps)

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #bts #bangtan #are you sure?!#jikook travel show #ep. 7 #september 2024

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dumbd3m0nzart · 5 months ago

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A NEW KILLER IN TCSM AND LEAKED VOICE TRANSCRIPT?!!

SHE LOOKS SO CUTE!!! I CAN’T WAIT FOR HER TO RELEASE SO I CAN GO CRAZY!!!!!

💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵

Apparently her ability is made to lure victims into a state of false security until another one of the family members strikes? I wonder how well that could execute in game without it being so op?? Honestly seems like a very interesting concept from the voice transcripts she seems to be a big crybaby which honestly who doesn’t love crybaby murders? I’m definitely not gonna complain!

(Dolly’s Leaked Voice Transcripts)

/To make it easier to read I’ll color code her responses!/

Interacting with the family (Dolly Hart)

Dolly Sees Sissy

“(crying) I can’t do this, I can’t.”

“Awh sugar, what's with those tears? Ain’t you having fun?”

“(crying continues) No.”

“Nancy is really startin’ ta get on my nerves.”

“Pay no mind to the old woman Doll, she's just a bit upset that her boy is payin' more attention to you than he is her.”

“I’ll try.”

“I-I’m really not supposed to be talkin to ya.”

“Did Johnny tell ya that sugar? Don’t listen to him..I��m always here if ya wanna have girl-on-girl talk!”

“S-sounds like fun! But let’s keep this secret please.”

“Of course sugar, whatever ya say. (laughter)”

“(crying) It’s everywhere, they’re everywhere.”

“Come on Dolly, smile! I know you aint used to this but it gets easier over time I promise!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“(crying)”

“(fake crying) Is this makin ya feel better? (small laughter)”

“(crying elevates) NO!”

“You haven’t seen Johnny have ya?”

“Sweety with all due respect how do ya put up with the bastard?”

“Oh well, he’s real sweet to me when he wants ta be even when he gets mad I know he means well.”

“(laughter) Well good luck you sure got yer hands full.”

Dolly Sees Drayton/Cook

“Where are they, damnit.”

“Hey you! Doll or whatever go roun' back and check on those damn gates. Make sure they're nice an' secure understood?”

“Y-yes sir! I’ll g-get right on that!”

“(crying)”

“Quite that damn cryin’ before I give ya somethin’ ta cry about ya here girl?!”

“(crying) O-okay.”

“An' quit just noddin' at everything I tell ya dammit! Like some damn beaten ol' mutt, I swear there isn't any normal person roun' here. (annoyed grumbling)”

“Umm D-Drayton, not to be a bother but who’s this girl Johnny seems to be so fond of?"

“That damn girl is the soul reason we're in this mess! If that boy woulda jus' stop bringin' all of them girls to the property, we wouldn't be chasin' roun' stupid kids!”

"T-There are more of em?”

“Drayton you really gotta show me some of your recipes, yer cookins real good!"

“Quit tryna butter me up, and focus on actually gettin' the job done instead of havin' everyone finish it for ya!”

“Yes sir. (disappointed sigh)”

“Y’know that recipe ya showed me last time?”

"(annoyed sigh) Yes Dolly, I remember."

“Could ya show me again? I umm forgot what goes in the sauce.”

"Jus' ta stop yer yamerin' I’ll show ya again once we kill all these damn vermin okay?”

“Okay!”

Dolly Sees Johnny

“(crying)”

“I really do love it when you cry, Dollface. (laughter)”

“(slighty aggitated) Johnny who’s this girl everyon' sayin' yer so fond of?"

“Awh c’mon Doll, yer not jealous now are ya? You know yer always gonna be enough for me, Dollface.”

"R-really?!”

“(crying) Johnny, I wanna go back home."

"You think I wanna be here all day chasin' these vermin'?"

"(crying) N-no I jus-"

"(tuts and taunting) Awh, cmon' Dollface quit poutin' already an' help us out with that little act of yours.”

“(screams of distress) Help me! Get it off! Get it off!”

“What's the matter, Doll, can't handle a bit of blood? (laughter)”

"(hums "Look At Your Love" Sissy's song)"

“You ain't talking to that hippie now are ya darlin?"

“(stops humming and in panic) N-no! I would never!”

"(sadistic tone) You know I'll find out if you are."

“(small cries) Johnny, you love me, right? You promised you wouldn't leave me, right?"

“Nancy tellin' ya shit again? (annoyed sigh) Don't worry, Doll, I'll handle her. You just keep yer distance.”

"Okay."

“Johnny! C-can I stick with ya for a bit? I don’t w-wanna be alo-"

“(frustrated sigh) Dolly Baby, why don’t you go and smash some heads in, instead of hoverin' all over me like a damn dog and let me finally breathe!”

"(crying) I-I’m sorry."

“(crying) There’s so much blood."

“Bloody and a Crybaby, darlin' you really are for me! (laughter)”

"I-I am?”

“I can’t knock 'em down right with this no matter what, they just keep runnin'!

“What not likin' the mallet? Try smashin' harder, so that way you can get the job done much faster. Now isn't that an idea, sweet thing?"

"Ah! O-Okay I’ll make ya proud!”

"(laughter) I’m sure you will.”

Dolly Sees Nancy

"(crying then gasp of realization) Shit, not her."

“Of course yer crying. What else would you be doing? Yknow, I can't wait till my Johnny finally gets bored of ya."

“(sniffs) Johnny cares about me more than anything in the world I know he does, right?”

"Just like all the others, you ain't nothing special. (laughter)”

“Nancy.”

“Heard you and Johnny tusslin' trouble in paradise, Doll? (laughter)

"(verge of tears) Please not now."

"Oh girl, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. once he's done with you, I'll make sure to take care of you myself.”

"Johnny doesn't want me talkin' to ya leave me alone."

“Stilk fallin' for his act, huh? Johnny may like ya, but does he actually love ya? (laughter)”

“Nancy have you seen any of em kids around?"

“Of course, you’d let one get away! (frustrated grumbling) Well? Go get 'em I ain’t helpin' ya!”

Dolly Sees Nubbins/Hitchhiker

"Nubbins, do ya have any idea why Nancy is so I don't know mean all the time."

“I d-don't get why that old lady’s all mean t-to you! Y-yer pretty, and nice a-a-and she's just a m-mean o-ol hag that's what!”

“(sniffs) That’s real sweet of ya Nubsie.”

“(crying) Why can’t they just die."

“W-Why you al-always cryin' for? Don't you ever get a headache from all that w-whining?”

"(crying dies down) O-oh umm yeah b-but I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

"Sissy says I should use more accessories as a way to get Johnny to notice, but I'm not sure what?"

“I think a nice b-bone bracelet would l-look real nice on you! I c-can make you one if you want! (laughter)”

“(gasp) R-really?! I would love that, thank ya, Nubsie. I really do appreciate it. I can’t wait to see it!”

“(crying)"

“Yknow the o-only reason they pick on ya is because y-yer to nice gr-grow some b-backbone o-once in a-awhile!”

Dolly Sees Bubba

“Heya Care Bear!"

"(affection grunting)"

"Woah n-now! Don't get so close swingin' yer chainsaw aroun it could hurt someone.”

“(crying) I don’t think I can do this by myself, Bubs. I really don’t wanna hurt em.”

"(very concerned grunting)"

“Yer lookin' real s-scary with that blood all smeared."

"(very concerned grunting)

"Don’t worry I’ll help ya clean yer mask once this is all over.”

“Heya Bubs, how's the huntin' goin' for ya?"

"(happy/affection grunting)"

"(laughter) I'm glad yer havin' some fun."

“If I find one of em you’ll be the first to know!”

"(comforted grunting)"

Dolly Sees Hands

“Wow Johnny wasn’t kiddin' y-you really are an intimidatin man.”

“I heard a lot bout yer hunts with Johnny, ya mind teachin' me a thing or two? (nervous laughter)”

"Not much of a talker, huh?"

“(crying) I-I can’t do th-this alone."

"(silence)"

"(sniff) Ya min' given me a hand? (laughs lightly)”

"(small laughter)"

“Hands! Glad I caught ya when I did. You wanna try this new recipe I’m workin on for Johnny it's with h-hum- well meat."

"(grunts in affirmation)"

"I’ll t-take that as a yes”

“(screaming in terror) Oh! (laughs lighty) it's just you."

"(grunts in affirmation)"

"Ah, silent, but deadly I’ll have to learn from that.”

Match Start Intro

“H-how did they escape?! God, this needs to end quickly.”

“Of course, the cat plays with their food and the mice find a way to run wild. I really don’t wanna hurt em.”

“(crying) W-why couldn’t they have just stayed in the damned basement and die! Ya’ll kids better die this time.”

“Don’t worry Johnny I’ll make ya proud. I hope.”

Idle

“(crying) I never wanted to do this yknow but you gave me no choice I have to kill ya now!”

“Sissy was right it really does get easier the more I do this.”

“(laughter with tears) I really am a terrible person.”

“This is gettin' old! Come out already!”

“I can’t do anything right. (crying) Hell! I can’t even kill someone right!”

“What was it that Sissy said to me once? Laugh and smile and everything will get easier. (Manic Laughter) Yeah, no.”

“Go ahead, lil bunnies. The big bad wolf is gonna find ya soon enough.”

Feed Grandpa

“Don’t bite me, Don’t bite me, Don’t bite me!”

“Open wide, don’t choke now.”

“(crying) Please, let this work Johnny’s countin' on me…”

Find Hidden Victim

“(screams in excitement) I actually found one!”

“(crying) like a dog I’ll always fetch!”

“Run.”

“(crying) You're all real bad at hidin’ no wonder they always find ya.”

“You think yer hidin will do ya any good (laughter) then yall are dumber than you look!”

“(crying) Don’t hide without me! Make some room!”

Hit Enemy

“GRAH! Just stand still will ya!”

“(crying) Can’t ya see I’m tryin' to help! Just let me take away yer sufferin' already!”

“(crying) This is hurting me more than its hurtin ya.”

“Cry all ya want! (crying) It won’t change anythin!”

“(crying and laughter) Yall are making this way too easy. I feel real bad for ya.”

“Trust me, it's better if I’m the one who kills ya!”

Dolly See Blood Trail

“Looks fresh, your close ain’t ya.”

“(crying) You poor things I’m so sorry you havta suffer like this, I’ll help ya don’t worry”

“So much blood.”

“The more blood yall lose the easier it will be when he finds ya!”

“Well looky here a little red road!”

“(crying) This will be yalls demise.”

See Enemy First

“Run rabbit. (crying) Run!”

“Oh c'mon now, don’t just run off without me!”

“Just a few smacks to yer pretty lil skull will do the trick trust me!”

“(crying) I can see you.”

“I ain’t gonna bite ya! I promise.”

See Enemy Sub

“Johnny’s gonna be real pleased once I tell him how I found ya’ll!”

“It’s over. You better start runnin'. (crying) Right now!”

“Found ya!”

“(crying) Don’t even try runnin' it’s useless now.”

Encounter Start

“(crying and struggling) Let go of me!”

“(laughing with tears) well, looky here! Cmon, kill me! Yknow ya wanna!”

“Don't you dare, touch what's his!”

“Try me! I dare ya!”

“(crying) I just wanted y’all to die. Is that too much to ask?! Huh?!”

Exit Interaction

“AH! This could’ve ended badly. Good thing I caught it before any of em really did run off.”

“God this is frustratin’ just stay on dammit!”

“No wonder I didn’t hear no vroom an’ boom!”

Lose Enemy First

“Dammit, dammit, dammit! Johnny’s gonna be so mad!”

“No! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”

“Gah! (crying) The hunt just started, and I already messed up! Shit!”

“(crying) Johnny, trust me, this isn’t my fault.”

Lose Enemy Sub

“Run all ya want I’ll find ya! I hope.”

“Go ahead, run from fate!”

“(crying) No, please! Let this end! For the both of us.”

“(crying) Come back! Please I’m beggin' ya, please!”

Lose Enemy Long

“Yall were already dead the very moment you set foot on this place.”

“(crying) The more yall struggle the more painful this is gonna be!”

“I know yer here come on out! This is pointless. Please just go away.”

“I was like the rest of y'all once I too ran from death, but look at me now head over heels for him. I’d do anythin’ for my Johnny.”

See Family Member

“Keep yer eyes peeled they're here, somewhere”

“(crying) O-Oh! I didn’t see ya there. I’ll be quiet now.”

“I-I need yer help, please?”

See Trapped Victim

“Like a bug, disgusting.”

“(crying) That looks like it hurts! Here let me help!”

“I told ya, didn’t I? We’d find ya one way or the other, dead or alive.”

“Go ahead! Struggle, easier for me ta kill ya this way.”

“(crying) Please understand this is really for the best.”

“I-I need ya to stop movin yer makin' it harder to aim.”

See Victim Escape

“No, no, no, no, no! (cries and screams in frustration) What am I gonna do!? What am I gonna do?!”

“No wait! Please don't go! Please! Let me free you!”

“Bleed, bleed out, and die for all I care (crying) I tried helpin’ ya but yer too stubborn to care!”

“They got away, shit! (crying) I really am useless. What’s Johnny gonna do with me now if I can’t even finish the job! N-no, he wouldn’t do anything like that. Would he?”

“(crying) Johnny. I need Johnny!”

Use Ability Blocked

“They ain’t nearby yet. Gotta wait for the right time.”

“I don’t see anyone here.”

“Can’t deal with crowds. Gotta wait till they scatter.”

“No one is here to help.”

Use Ability

“Help! Help me! Please?!”

“No please don’t hurt me! Please someone help!”

“We gotta run! We gotta hide!”

“Y-yer not one of 'em are ya thank god! (crying)”

“(crying) Please, don’t leave me alone. I’m scared!”

“(crying) We’re not safe here! Please, we have to go!”

Use Ability Success

“I’ll take us somewhere safe! I promise.”

“(crying) I’m so glad you stayed. I was so scared, please don’t leave me.”

“(crying) I was stuck here for so long. I’m glad yer here to protect me.”

“You got so much blood on ya, I’ll clean ya right up once we're out of here!”

“We’re gonna be safe again, I just know it.”

Execution

“(crying) I’m sorry! You gave me no choice!”

“(crying) Blood, blood so much blood!”

“Why won’t you stop twitchin'!?”

“(crying) I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

Isn't she so cool! I need to know more of her lore, honestly. Can't wait for them to talk about her next stream if they even do.

(I hope ya like my oc!!!)

#tcsm game #digital illustration #drawing #artists on tumblr #digital art #tcsm oc #johnny tcsm #tcm game #johnny tcm #nancy tcm #sissy tcm #nubbins sawyer #tcm nubbins #bubba sawyer #hands tcm #oc #oc art #dollyhart🐶

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 10 months ago

Note

Hello<3 can you do Masky, Toby, Jeff and Ben with a mean teen readerr? Like there just mad all the time but its because of trauma or something?:0 I LOVE YOU SMM TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF MLLL!!<33

Jeff and Tim are NOT gonna take that shit 😰

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masky

Honestly the dad in him comes out a bit

Like his whole thing is "what makes you think you get to act like that?"

He gets it, you've had a rough life but so has EVERYONE ELSE HERE

Just because your life sucked doesn't mean you get to be an asshole

He will treat you like a baby

Partly just to tick you off, and partly because if you act like a baby, you're gonna get treated like one

He'll put you in time out, he'll take things away, he'll put hot sauce in your mouth, etc

And the thing is, you can't even tattle to slender because slender agrees with Tim!

I think maybe here and there he'd ask you why you're always so angry, and what he can do to help, and if you don't answer, he doesn't mind because he understands

But if you do answer, your relationship begins to grow, and he learns how to help you out better

He doesn't want you to be mad all the time, because even though it might not seem like it sometimes, he does care about you

But as much as he cares, he also isn't gonna let a literal child bully him

He's way too old for that shit >:/

Toby

He's kind of scared of you

He just stays out of your way

His relationship with you is similar to his relationship with Jeff

He and Jeff are friends, yes, but they aren't close

And most of the time, Toby will choose to avoid Jeff rather than hangout with him

That's how he sees you too

You're a good kid! He just doesn't wanna upset you

The very few interactions you have with him are typically just him sucking up to you, or him doing his best to tiptoe around everything that could upset you

And because of this, you do take advantage of him sometimes

"Toby go get me a snack"

"I dunno y/n, don't you think you could go...get it yourself this time?" As he says this almost every word has a whistle or click after it, showing how nervous he is

You will slowly turn your head to look at him with a glare "I know you aren't calling me lazy"

"No, no! I-I would never! I'm just saying-"

"OH! So you're calling me fat then?"

"No!"

"Then go get me a snack before i make you regret the day your mommy queefed you out"

He REALLY needs to learn to stand up for himself smh

And typically he is pretty good at standing up for himself but yk

Kids scare him

Jeff

With his explosive anger issues you will not last more than 3 seconds around him omg

He is not above fist fighting a child btw

I mean yk, he'd get punished for it but that doesn't stop him

The second you try anything around him he checks you real quick

If you back off, he will get a boost of pride and say some shit like "Yeah, that's what I thought"

If you double down with it, it will likely turn into an all out screaming match

Until someone pulls him away and is like "dude you can't be fighting with little kids :/"

He will always call you names and always be sour around yo

Crotch goblin, little shit, failed abortion

you know, the usual <333

Honestly im gonna be so real with you for a second, the way I see yalls relationship going is only to one drastic side of a spectrum

You could bond over your anger issues and become best friends/siblings with an unbreakable bond

OR you could become so sour towards each other that the caretakers of the manor literally have a meeting about changing your schedule a bit to get around Jeff's

No in between its only one of those two

Yeah, Jeff doesn't take no shit from anyone

Even children, gotta teach em young <333

Ben

Ben, being so chill genuinely does not care what you do to him

Since he doesn't have a physical body, you can't fight him either

So sometimes he will pick fights with you just to make you mad

I'm desperately trying to make Ben's section more than 3 bullets long

I'm telling you he literally does not care, does not react, NOTHING.

You could be screaming at him and he will just continue about his day like you aren't even there

Which of course, makes you more mad

But again, he doesn't care

Making you try harder and harder just to get a reaction out of him

The only reaction you will get is out of Jeff, and we already talked about his dramatic ass

135 notes · View notes

coquettemouse · 21 days ago

Text

Maybe

Leo reached for the pepper sauce but it was just out of reach. He glanced over at Georgina, who was busy poking at her mashed potatoes.

"Georgina, pass the pepper sauce," Leo asked casually, already expecting she might make him work for it.

Georgina gave him a long look, then huffed dramatically. "No."

Leo blinked, leaning back. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

She sighed heavily, as if this task would take every ounce of her energy, and shoved a spoonful of food into her mouth. "Get it yourself," she mumbled through her bite.

Leo raised an eyebrow. "You serious right now?"

Before Georgina could respond, Emmie’s voice cut through the air, firm and final. “You two—enough.”

“She's just keeping you on your toes," Jo added with a grin, spearing a piece of bread from the basket in front of her. "Speaking of keeping on your toes, remember that time we went grocery shopping, Em?”

Emmie gave her a knowing glance, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re bringing up the cart incident again?”

Leo perked up, curious. “Cart incident?”

Jo leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s a good one. So, we’re loading up the car, right? I’ve got like ten bags in each hand—showing off, you know—when I see this runaway cart heading straight for Emmie. And of course, I leap into action.”

Emmie snorted. “More like you tripped into action.”

Jo grinned, unfazed. “Well, yeah, the oranges didn’t exactly help. But I still stopped the cart... with my face."

Jason’s smile widened. "Let me guess—Emmie saved you?"

“She did. Quick reflexes,” Jo admitted, tapping her temple. "A true hero."

Georgina, now fully invested, giggled into her plate, and Leo tilt his head, giving a smile that made Jason think about that weird cat from that weird movie with the weird girl. “Guess the Waystation’s been full of action even before all the demigods started dropping by.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Emmie said dryly, but affectionate. “You should ask her about the time she ‘fixed’ the roof.”

Jo let out a loud laugh. “You never let me live that one down, do you?”

Emmie smirked, nudging Jo’s arm gently. “That’s because I saved you from falling through it. Twice.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, contentedly listening to the flow to them. It was comforting. He catches Leo’s eye, the two exchanging an amused look as Georgina finally, with a sigh of defeat, slid the pepper sauce toward Leo.

“About time,” Leo teased, ruffling her hair.

Georgina roll her eyes and give him a look, one he gladly responded with a smirk.

"Fixing..." Jo hummed, glancing at Jason from across the table. "You’re done with all your temple stuff, right, boy?"

Jason nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Jo smiled, clearly curious. "So, what are you planning to do once you’re done studying?"

Jason paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. The question hung in the air. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it—he had, endlessly—but the answer was still hazy. He didn’t know where he belonged, or what exactly he was supposed to be. He liked art, but everything around him was far more complicated. He finally spoke, almost as though the words were foreign to his tongue. "They’re planning to make me a Pontifex Maximus."

The title rolled off his lips with a kind of uncertainty. Emmie’s brow furrowed slightly, her gaze sharp and inquisitive. "Do you want to be one?"

Jason hesitated again, the air growing still. "I..." He trailed off, the truth weighing heavy in his chest. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered it—he had. His life was filled with doubts, but always with a period, choices someone else took for him. You can't get an answer if you've never been allowed to ask a question.

If a bird lives in a cage, the his world is that cage. If the bird lives on any street, his world becomes the street. Jason was a bird who just learned there is a corner on the border of his world.

"I don’t know," he admitted, the confusion settling over him like a shadow. "Not really."

Emmie studied him carefully, her face still but firm. "Is that your only chance to be Pontifex Maximus?"

Jo cleared her throat, leaning forward slightly. "Jason, they plan on making you a Pontifex Maximus," she repeated his words carefully, tilting her head to the side. "They," she emphasized, gesturing with her hands, "not you."

Jason shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of her words. "It’s a good chance," he rambled, his voice unsure. "It’s a good position. I can take care of people... of the city."

"You can do that in other ways," Emmie said, raising an eyebrow. "We’re helping people here."

Jason felt his words catch in his throat. Emmie was right. They are helping people. They are giving lost demigods a home, a place to belong, people who had no one else.

As he struggled with what to say next, Georgina kicked her feet under the table, completely absorbed in her meal. Between bites, she piped up in that straightforward way only a 7-year-old could. "You could help mommas."

Leo glanced at her, then at his moms, giving them a knowing look, raise brows and tilted up chin.

"Leo’s already suggested that," Jo added, nodding with a grin. "Smart kid."

Jason turned to Leo, catching his eye. He met his gaze but didn’t smile—there was no need. The offer was genuine, no strings attached, but it made Jason feel even more out of place, like a puzzle piece from the wrong box.

"Thanks for the offer," Jason began, his voice quiet, "but no need. I don’t want to be a bother."

Emmie scoffed, her tone dry but caring. "We don’t need to. We want to." She gave him a firm look. "You teenagers are all the same, huh? Always thinking you’re in the way." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t be a nuisance."

Jason swallowed, unsure of how to respond, the warmth of their words battling the insecurities in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, there was more than one way to find his "where".

"Sorry, bro, but you're stupid if you don’t think you're part of the family," Leo said, raising his brows but flashing Jason a playful smile. "Of our home."

Jason couldn’t help it—Leo's words made him smile, a warmth settling in his chest. Leo noticed, and his grin widened, soft and genuine. "That’s cool," Jason murmur, nodding slightly, like everything the son of Hephaestus said was the most right and certain thing in the world.

Jo’s eyes darted between them, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth before she broke into laughter, shaking her head. Emmie, always a little more reserved, let out a low chuckle, while Georgina, watching the whole thing unfold, frowned, confused by all the adults grinning at each other.

"What’s so funny?" Georgina asked, her tiny face scrunched up as if she had just missed the punchline.

"Nothing, sweetie," Emmie replied, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from Georgina's face, her smile still lingering. "Boys being boys."

#heroes of olympus #leo valdez #jason grace #valgrace #percy jackson #trials of apollo #josephine #Emithea

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

Photo

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: all are sfw except for Tig’s, so minors ... don’t read Mr Trager’s part. Oh and swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

𝐉𝐚𝐱

・He loves dates outside. It doesn’t even have to be on the bike. You can take the car and he’ll have one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh

・You never know when or where you’re going to stop. But it’s usually somewhere with a huge tree

・There’s a picnic blanket in the back, and when there isn’t, Jax lays out his jacket for you to sit down on

・Jax always automatically lays his head in your lap and closes his eyes (but not before winking at you)

・He isn’t falling asleep, only taking in the sun’s warmth and the softness of your thighs, basking in the feeling of contentedness

・His ideal date is literally just spending time with you. Talking, not talking, joking around, delving deep... he just loves your personality. There’s no topic too outrageous or off-limits

・Jax would have your favourite drink; alcohol, energy drink, soda etc whatever you like. Alternatively, he would go through the drive through so that you can munch down together and look completely unattractive while tomato sauce drips down your chins

・He doesn’t like restaurants because people are very judgemental, and he isn’t going to take off his cutte for anyone

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐞

・Didn’t really think about actual dates... you guys kinda just ... got into a relationship.

・He didn’t need to woo you, he just knew who you were and wanted you

・It was the same with you; you knew Opie and wanted him. No frills, no dancing around the subject.

・You were both very straightforward

・But after being in a relationship for 6 months, you saw the other Sons’ relationships and brought it up with Opie - curiosity with how he would plan a date

・He was a bit taken aback because he loves doing the mundane things with you; grocery shopping, bathing together, watching tv

・But then he found this place, ax-throwing, and you were both so excited to go

・It ended up being one of your new favourite hobbies

・And then the place had a separate section with a smashing section and GOD you two were there for hours

・It’s a weekly thing now

・Even if the week hasn’t been too heavy, you still both want to go and let off some steam. Whether it’s because of something small ... or not

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐬

・Has dated a few women in his lifetime, but never loved one as much as Fiona. Until he met you.

・You drew him in and he’s been loyal ever since; even on the road, with the crow-eaters, he’s never looked at anyone but you.

・It may come as a surprise but Chibs is quite romantic.

・Flowers, buying your favourite food, jewellery etc

・He knows that although it’s traditional, you still enjoy it. (And it’s not just roses and heart necklaces. He knows your favourite flowers and your taste in jewellery)

・You loved how he showered you with gifts, but you wanted to do something together

・And that’s when you showed him brewery tours.

・At first he didn’t like it (not a wine fan), but then you found one that was based on whiskey, rum - brown liquor, and he adored it

・So basically his ideal date it getting drunk together?

・He also enjoyed going to a pub with you; it had the feeling of Scotland and Chibs was so excited to show you the similarities:

“And that righ’ there sweetheart, all those pictures; they have ‘em in every pub back in Scotland-”

𝐓𝐢𝐠 (NSFW! 18+!)

・Despises anything formal

・He doesn’t like the feeling of not being good enough to be in fancy places

・Plus, he just doesn’t think it’s “his style”

・So a lot of your dates are spontaneous and always start on his bike (and ugh ... end in his bed)

・Very sexual and cannot keep his hands off of you. Having alone time together is sparse since being apart of the club takes up most of his time

・Every night he gets to spend at home means a night full of love mak- okay it’s full of fucking.

・Drive-ins are another of his favourite though

・When he was younger, he used to go when his home life got too rough. Some place to escape, and it was easier to sneak in than a movie theatre

・That’s where he likes to take you when you’v had a rough day. But he also has an extensive movie range. So when you can’t be bothered to go out, you just stay at home, snuggle up and have a movie marathon

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲

・Something low-key but sentimental

・Happy doesn’t have a lot of money, but it doesn’t stop him from creating a romantic atmosphere.

・He’s one of the more emotionally charged Sons

・Not afraid to show his affection and love for you

・Happy first arrives by bike out the front with a bouquet of (stolen) flowers, a helmet for you and a backpack with drinks and food.

・He takes you to ‘the look out’. It’s on the outskirts of Charming that overlooks the woods and houses below

・He has a blanket, gives you his jacket and asks about your day while setting everything up

・You know he cares he’s put a lot of thought into it

・Maybe it isn’t a fancy restaurant, and the food isn’t 5 stars, but you know that he put a lot of effort into it

・On special occassions like being together for a certain amount of months/years. Happy will take on extra work/shifts so he can saved up a bit of money and take you somewhere fancy

・Not just a nice restaurant, but a hotel for a few nights.

・When you enter the hotel room, he runs the bath for the two of you. Afterwards you order room service and have it sitting in bed, white robes on, watching a rom com (he lets you choose from ‘This Means War,’ ‘Mr & Mrs Smith’, ‘Pride & Prejudice’ or ‘Leap Year’)

𝐉𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞

・A lot of thought is put into his dates. More so than the others

・You are the light of his life, and contrary to the others, you’re more important that the club

・So his ideal date foremost, is uninterrupted by a call from Clay

・With you and him taking a trip somewhere out of Charming, possibly near a beach or somewhere exotic

・See, Juice can be very romantic, once he gets over his nervousness around you (it took a year into your relationship for him not to stumble over his words. You thought he had a stutter, but it was because he’s so anxious about you leaving him)

・He packs everything; orderly and neatly.

・Not forgetting anything of importance. If you take medication, than he has extra just in case, obviously extra pairs up underwear, because Juice too does that thing (you know what I’m talking about)

・Oh, and he wants everything to be a surprise. So he makes sure that your work has given you time off

・And he has at least three of your favourite things; a book, a figet toy, a puzzle, a gameboy, whatever it is - he has it all ready for you while you’re waiting for your plane

・Gives you the window seat, has ear plugs for you when you take off and land because of the pressure

・If you’re a nervous flyer than he never leaves your side, holds your hand the entire time and

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trippinsorrows · 16 days ago

Note

I feel like we need a short that details Solana delivering the twins!

How and where did she go into labor?

Where was Roman and how did he react?

What was the procedure? Lmao Did she birth at home? A center?

LMAO I lowkey can imagine Roman being stressed the fuck out because he hates his wife being in pain. And maybe, just maybe, she’s in labor for a couple hours and a little uncomfortable…but the twins show up thinking they’re being supportive but they’re really just making Roman need his blood pressure medication refilled immediately lol

They would get a glimpse of Solana from the hallway and go…

“ Damn. I hope Soso gone’ be alright pushing out them big ass kids. Shit look like it’s gone hurt, uce. Specially when she get to them shoulders and ears’.” Jimmy winced, thinking about Solana’s double load of a task at hand.

Meanwhile Jey nervously ran a hand down his face, before saying, “ Fuck, man. She ain’t got no choice but to be alright. It’s Fajita Tuesday tomorrow. And she told me she was gone make me and the kids the lil spicy Taco Bell ass sauce she make wit’ em.”

“ Fool, she is not gone be able to move around and make us no goddamn’ food tomorrow after having them kids. She just might barely be able to make it to the bathroom good after that.”

“ That’s why she meal prepped our food in the freezer. We just gotta go to big dog house and get em’. Pop in the microwave and allat’.” Jimmy followed up, smirking at the thought of Solana’s cooking on demand for the next week via carefully curated tv dinner tray style meal prep packages for the them and the kids in the event she did go into labor.

Wearing an almost identical smile to his faternal twin’s, Jey said, “ Hell yeah. That’s why I love Soso, man. Always looking out for us. Thats why I can’t wait to come over with Nicki and the kids after the babies born. See em, spoil em, and stuff.”

“ Hell we might stay a couple days. See if she need Nicki help at all. Ya’ know be supportive fa-“

Just as Jey was about to finish his thought, the door to the birthing room wrenched open to reveal a somewhat flustered and annoyed Roman who glared holes into his cousins’ faces barking, “ If yall don’t get your fuckin’ asses out this goddamn place. I swear I’ll have you both fucking castrated before Solana dilates another fucking centimeter.”

“ And let it also be known that anyone I see step a fuckin pinky toe on my property once we go home will be shot on sight. Men, women, children, and any creature thats not my wife’s whiny ass dog is getting a hot one in em’!!”

“ On second thought, kids get rubber bullets to test their future durability. But ya’ll stupid assses are fair game. Especially your dumbass wife. I got something special for her if she steps foot on my shit.” Roman pointed a finger to a now visibly pissed Jey, before slamming the door back and locking it to go return to his wife’s side.

“ See, look on the bright side, uce. You see how the babies already warming up big dog heart. Before that he woulda’ shot the kids with regular bullets too. Look at em’ being a father and what not.” Jimmy goofily beamed.

Hope this interpretation was alright ✨🤦🏾‍♀️💕

NO CAUSE THE WAY I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMG 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

the way i can absolutely see the twins showing up to 'support' solana only to act a damn fool as you so greatly depicted and end up getting kicked out by roman. 😂😂😂😂😂 hell, and any child after that, it's an automatic thing where they're just banned from the hospital altogether 😂😂😂😂😂

them talking about her cooking when sis is literally in labor is so on brand for them.

as far as her birth with the girls, ngl, it's giving me angsty vibes. 😭 i hate to do this to ya'll, but someone asked the other day about this and we were causally putting out there it being angsty 😭 and idk.....i feel like it would be.

i feel like they'd come early to some extent, or when roman is out of town. and solana is rushed to the hospital. she's already a little nervous because this isn't how they planned it. they were expected on or after the due date. not before. and roman would want her at a hospital to make sure she has all the resources and care she needs. he'd also have the whole damn floor cleared, and you can bet bloodline security is all up in that bitch. ain't nobody getting inside that's not supposed to be.

solana would be very emotional and overwhelmed, both because of it happening but also roman not being there. like, of course bayley and naomi are there, but, respectfully, she doesn't want them. she wants her husband.

she's already sad because her mom isn't there, and she dislikes hospitals in general, so roman not being there is super hard for her. of course this man is rushing like hell to make it there, and i'm not evil. he'd make it on time for the birth, but you can bet poor solana is crying both from the physical pain but also her emotions. crying that she wants roman and the infamous, 'i can't do this without him." 😭😭😭😭

i also agree she'd have a long labor, which roman hates cause like you said, he can't stand to see her in pain.

#ari answers #ltye ask

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uselesssomebody · 2 years ago

Text

𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟟.𝟝𝕜

summary || in which the reader's smile is a sight in the q.z.

a/n || i love him, your honor ➵ i'm watching the mandalorian so expect some fics on that soon! ➵ set before the show, so possibly canon divergent? no real main characters except the millers are a part of this ➵ i'm 90% sure i didn't accidentally spoil the show or game in this, except that ! news flash ! joel has a brother ig? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst ➵ show-typical violence and graphic descriptions of blood and wounds

she hurt again. she always does, be it the dull ache of her shoulders, the burn of her calves or biceps, or her stomach - excruciatingly, about one week out of the month. this time, it was a headache, the damn thing feeling as though her head would split open if she didn’t do anything about it in the next few moments.

luckily, some superior being out there heard her silenced, wailing pleas, as she lifted her eyes to a figure approaching her. his hand was outstretched, and she was so glad to see her relief in his hands that she clutched it desperately, pulling it out of his grip.

“hello to you too.” he mumbled, a large smile quirked on his chapped lips. well, as large of one as you can have in this godforsaken q.z., anyways. he watched as she swallowed the painkiller immediately, not even bothering to grab the small bottle of water in her bag. had any other person taken the pills he’d so delicately procured without promise of goods on their own side, he’d probably have shot them.

but he knew her. and he knew she wouldn’t.

he leaned slightly against the crumbling brick wall shielding this particular back alley, taking note of the way her previously tensed features softened, until the furrow of her brow and clench of her jaw was replaced with a smile instead.

this one, though, was actually large - for even pre-pandemic standards. she was like that a lot - smiling, happy, excited. positive. it was a hard thing to come by nowadays.

“thanks, tommy.” she sighed, reaching into her bag quickly to return the favor. the box that came out was a bit greasy and moist, and the smell of good food hit tommy miller’s nose almost intrusively, not used to the smell after the past week of food that could be bought with ration cards. the q.z. may have provided sustenance, but flavor seemed the be considered just as bad as the fucking zombies in here.

in similar fashion, he takes it out of her hand, finding different, small seasoning and sauce packets, as well as a plastic wrapped container of chicken. he shut the box quickly, as if worried the meat would come alive and fly away, and she smiled at the hastiness of the action. her painkillers had been quickly packed away into her inner jacket pocket, and she’s quick to survey the surrounding.

“so, i’ll see you week after?” she nodded, as tommy began leaving.

“next sunday, noon!” he saluted at her, and she rolled his eyes.

joel had forgotten about the idea of good food until about two months ago - when his brother had returned with an odd smelling container. he wondered what on earth he’d been up to, not even letting tommy explain before he started unpacking it. the meat inside looked a little foreign, the grilled crust on it something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“tommy, what the-”

“it’s good, ain’t it?” he had an excitable pep in his step, and joel raised an eyebrow.

“how’d - how’d ya even get this?”

“one of the smugglers - she brings in food from her trips.”

“where does she get it from?” tommy looked at him as though he was crazy.

“why the hell would she tell me, joel? what’s it matter, anyway, we got great food now!” joel - the older brother than he is - felt perturbed by tommy’s careless attitude, but shrugged it off.

“what’d you pay for it then? how many ration cards?” tommy waved him off.

“a bag of pills - painkillers. said she’d give me a box every two weeks for a bag of them.” joel shook his head, still apprehensive.

“painkillers are hard to come by, tommy, is it really worth it?” tommy didn’t respond.

it was, in fact, absolutely worth it. the brothers practically licked their plates clean that night, the taste of the still juicy chicken invading their senses after the past 7 months of mostly sloppy, shitty soups and broths.

she became a staple of their rounds, with tommy always making time to get painkillers for her, and to meet her. both brothers knew it was stupid to ‘pretend to enjoy the finer things in life’, as joel so cynically put it, but that didn’t stop their appreciation for the food.

as for her, those few months had been the first time she’d had steady supply to something to ease her pain.

truly, she didn’t know how she’d carried on so far in this pandemic, considering she used to be a school teacher before all of this. the most she’d had to deal with back then was maybe a rowdy kid or two - or worse, a rowdy parent. not zombies - or infected, whatever. not terrorists, vigilantes, raiders, the fucking feds. she was even more shocked that she’d adopted a lifestyle of smuggling, as opposed to being another menial laborer. hell, she’d been anti-gun before all of this, and now she’d go through fifteen magazines a week - on good weeks.

luckily, she was a good shot, or she supposed she’d be spending a lot less on painkillers, and a lot more on bullets. she attributed it all to the first person to pay attention to her in the q.z.

she was a bit older, the woman - maybe mid 40s at the time - but she was incredibly fit, lithe and agile. they were put on odd jobs by FEDRA all the time, and it took about four jobs before she - beth - realized they were always paired together. she’ll always remember the first thing she told her:

“you’d think they’d get a better bunch than us to do this shit.” she had gestured to the group, full of mostly the malnourished, young, and old. there were considerable overlaps in those groups, if you can imagine.

sure, that first sentence wasn’t indicative of what would have become a budding friendship, but beth was quick to take her under her wing. then, when the older woman made the switch to smuggling goods, she figured that her young friend would do good in joining her.

“i don’t know, beth, what if the feds find out?” her arms were crossed over her chest as she paced up and down beth’s tiny apartment.

“you’ve got me! c’mon, when have things ever gone wrong with me.” she could name a few, but she pursed her lips to stop herself.

“what would we even get?” beth’s eyes lit up at her slow succumbing.

“that’s just it! i have an old, old friend who’s got a farm maybe 20 miles from here. he’s got these big fences to keep out the infected, but he grows fresh fruit and - meat! can you believe it! he’s got cows and chickens, and-” she stopped herself from delving too far into her master plan, “if we smuggle in food, we can get extra ration cards, extra supplies, and maybe even trade for other things!”

the idea excited her, and she couldn’t hide it, with beth immediately picking up on the released tension in her step, and in the way her arms crossed.

“but how would i survive out there? i can’t even shoot a gun.” beth’s smile widened.

“that’s the best part, hun. i’ll teach you.”

and teach her, she did. by the time they started making the serious, 20 km hike to beth’s friend’s farm, she was more than comfortable with a firearm, using it to save their lives on more than one occasion.

the trips had become muscle memory to her. they’d travel to the farm, trade ammo for food, and then come back, and trade the food for ration cards, for cigarettes for beth, and for the occasional bottle of whiskey.

it had become such muscle memory, that they both made the journey themselves occasionally. she’d been particularly busy one week trying to wrap up a larger deal with a group of fireflies - or at least, what they used to be - for decent first aid supplies. beth had urged her to carry on, and reassured her than she’d be back within 2 days with more food.

she waited two days. then she waited two more. then she got worried.

it was risky, she knew, but she had to figure what had happened.

she’d taken the same route they always took, except something had changed. one of the buildings in which they constantly stashed goods - usually empty - was now littered with metal cartridges, blood splattered across the grimy walls. her eyes widened, confused at the scene, and so fixated in figuring it out that she nearly tripped over something.

not something, someone.

she lets out a soft gasp at the corpse, the hole in his head indicative of his fate. she looked at the bag next to him, a quick confirming her fear - raiders. she rushed into the building, seeing their hiding places all ransacked - the slot in the bookshelf, the one under the table, the one behind a painting. her eyes saw a trail of blood, and, following it, she saw beth’s glassy eyes looking back at her.

a sob broke from her before she could realize - as, though she’d hoped for anything, anything else, she knew what the fate of her good friend had been. beth’s abdomen had been scarred, her jacket flipped out as though someone had scoured her pockets. the blood on her shirt had become flaky and a deep brown, having oxidized in the past few days.

she fell beside her, wanting to grab her hands, but recoiling at the stiffness of them, at how cold they were. her hot tears felt like a sharp contrast, and it only repeated the same juxtaposition in her mind: she was alive, and beth was dead.

she’d made the trip herself that day.

and every day after that.

she didn’t speak to anyone for a few weeks. her deals occurred over the span of a minute, maximum, and she didn’t greet the teenagers that lived across from her anymore, or the elderly man who would give her her ration cards for the days work. she went back a few days later to revisit her.

she had flowers - as many wildflowers as she could find on the way, and she placed them beside her as she shut her eyes, wincing again at the cold of her skin. it had begun to smell horrible in there, with the place becoming infested with scavengers.

she knew how much beth loved nature - hell, it was half of the reason she wanted to do these runs - so she - with all the strength she could muster, brought her about a hundred meters out, under the largest tree in the vicinity. she was sure it was a fruit tree of some kind - apples, or pears, she couldn’t tell. she laid her down lightly, pushing the flowers into her form delicately. she rubbed her own nose, willing the restarting tears to simmer, before backing away, sitting in the soft grass and just thinking.

beth was a loving person. somehow, through every way this pandemic hardened her, she still loved. she’d point out pretty, fragrant flowers on their hikes, she’d dream up elaborate meals and outfits, she’d always walk with a small pep in her step. sure, she was ornery when she needed to be, but she didn’t see too much of that. she saw the way beth would laugh, would smile, and would sing. she was terrible at it, but it never stopped her.

above all, beth loved her laugh. she loved the way her face lit up at a dumb joke, or outlandish comment. at the snarky comments beth would make to her friend, or the satirical ones about FEDRA and other smugglers.

she supposed that that day had been some form of closure for her. and she thought she’d do the little she could in beth’s memor: smile.

she was hard to miss in the q.z. it didn’t help that she was always waving at tommy, a quick greeting of hello - though, one not exactly common anymore. no, the problem was that damn smile. a smile never hurt anyone, except, of course, resident cynic joel miller. it always made him feel off, somehow, unable to feel comfortable with the notion of this bright thing in this desolated town of despair.

worse, though, was that he knew it wasn’t fake. he wondered how in hell she could be enjoying seemingly everything. he always let tommy handle that trade, though he did appreciate the goods. a packet of painkillers had initially seemed a steep price for chicken, but he was quick to realize which one they came by more often.

tommy would always chastise him for his sour face. his brother was always the more carefree one, more relaxed. the perks of a younger sibling, joel was sure, but he never mentioned it much. tommy’d always smile back at her; in fact, since her, he seemed to be smiling a lot more.

it made joel roll his eyes, the both of them acting like everything was fucking peachy.

that week, tommy’d been pulled away for a deal gone awry - some guy had sold their supply before being able to pay them back for it. he had some vendetta against joel, so the only way they could salvage the situation was through his more socially able brother. he was clear when he’d left:

“noon, joel. back alley two blocks from the soup kitchen, alright?” joel had nodded, only slightly, as he enjoyed a late lie-in - for the first time in about three weeks.

though he wasn’t particularly keen, he got up at about 11:45, rinsing his face to wipe the remnants of sleep from his eyes, before leaving the place. it was only a few blocks away, so he walked casually, taking a moment to peer into the soup kitchen to see if they were serving anything a step above edible. ah, who am i kidding? he thought, reminding himself of the lovely chicken he was about to pick up.

what joel wasn’t aware of was how precarious this area was, as a FEDRA thug would be stationed to glance over the back alleys about every 15 minutes to see if there was anyone trying to steal food from the soup kitchen. thus, there was only about a 5 minute gap where there were no guards. she knew it, and she knew that tommy knew it, so she wondered where he was, knowing if he delayed too much longer their window would be lost.

she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, rolling her shoulders to just lightly relieve their pain. when she finally hear footsteps approaching, she breathed out a sigh, reaching quickly for her bag to shorten the time of the exchange.

“jesus, tom, what’re you doing? you know we can’t-” she was fumbling with the zipper of her bag, only realizing that it was in fact, not tommy when she looked up. her eyes widened for a moment, before she seemed to recognize him, her stance dropping a little from their tensed state, “j-joel? right?” he nods, silently, arms crossed, “do you have them?” he shrugged.

“let’s see what you have, first.” she paused for a moment, before realizing that he simply didn’t trust her.

“are you serious, man? look, we don’t have time for this-” she’s cut off by the crisp sound of boots on the floor, making her realize that their time had run out, “oh - shit-” she starts fumbling to close her bag and sling it back over her shoulder, and joel seems just a bit confused. that only increases when she grabs his hands, placing them on her hips, and pulling them further against the wall.

“what the hell-” she looks up at him with such earnest that he shuts up.

“i’m sorry, just trust me.” she whispers it on his cheek, their faces only a few centimeters from each other. he sharply nods, just as she realizes that the soldier was turning the corner. she stood just a bit taller, craning her neck so that her face was parallel to his, and wrapping her arms over his shoulders.

he was pulled into her lips, the momentum causing him to dig his fingers just a bit deeper into her hips, and his mouth moving a little viciously against her own. he hadn’t done this in a long time. he was sure his actions were a little shaky, and he reminded himself of the fact that she was only doing this to make sure that the guard wouldn’t find out about worse, more nefarious dealings.

but, god, she tasted nice. he wasn’t sure where exactly she would find fresh mint to chew on, but he figured it must be from the same place she got her chicken.

his beard felt just a bit prickly against her chin, and his lips were a bit chapped, but the way he was grasping onto her hips right now made her forget all of it. she knew the act he was putting up was pretty masterful, but that didn’t stop it from feeling good. the warmth of his body had even managed to make forget about the various pains in her joints.

“hey! what the fuck is going on here?” the sharp shout of the guard made them break away, but just slightly, and she feigned an expression of scandalized shock at seemingly being caught in such a heated moment. joel ‘recovered’ faster than she did, separating from her and clearing his throat.

“nothing! nothing, man.” he held his palm up in surrender, and the guard glanced over the both of them with keen, suspicious eyes. though, upon seeing the way the back of her hair was messed up from being placed by the wall, the way his clothes had bunched up near his shoulders, and her around her hips, and that both of them seemed a bit flustered and out of breath, he stepped back, gesturing them to come out.

“do not do it again. you’re not allowed in this area, yeah?” she timidly nodded, and joel mumbled a gruff thanks, the both of them reintegrating into the busier street. she keeps her eyes fixed to her feet, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“guess i’ll just got to yours - give it to you there.” she suggested, not knowing how else she’d be able to make the exchange.

“huh? yeah, yeah - okay.” joel was still just slightly shaken up by the encounter - both at how easy it was to convince the guard of his supposed intention of simply wanting to feel the warm touch of another - and how much of it was just an act. when he glanced at her glassy eyes, his gaze ghosted over her pigmented lips, having become brighter in their color due to the intensity of their actions.

he’s happy that his apartment’s so close, as he worries what would happen if he continued to ponder on it. the door’s lock is rusted to high heaven, but he fishes out his key, unlocking the door and swinging it open. he gestured for her to go in from of him, before closing the door again.

her eyes flit over the apartment: the shoddy couch and bookshelf just adjacent of the twin bed, and the rickety dinner table closer to her. it looked a lot like hers, really, save for the large radio placed between the couch and bed, making it seem as though as it was particularly important. hey, painkillers were her way of coping with their situation; maybe music is theirs?

joel patted the front of his pocket, before reaching two fingers into it, plucking out the painkillers, and placing them on the table in front of the both of them. she looks between the bag and him once, before smiling softly, realizing that his trust for her had obviously grown since just 10 minutes ago in the alley. she reaches into her own, pulling out the familiar box and placing it in front of her, before replacing the spot in her bag that had previously held it with the bag of painkillers.

as she’d placed it down in front of her, she’d let out a short exhale, the ghost of a laugh.

“considering that exchange, you should really enjoy this chicken, miller.” a smile had continued to dance on her lips, until she’d looked up to see his rigid face: pointed stare piercing into hers, his stance as reclusive as possible, his hands crossed tightly over his chest. her face also sobered a little, averting her gaze in the slightest confusion.

“you smile a lot.” he almost mumbles it, but the accusatory undertone in the pointed statement, makes her double-take, looking up at him with furrowed brows. her mouth hangs open as she formulates a response - unsure of what really to say to that.

“i’m sorry, solemn joel miller, for smiling?” she attempts a joke, but it’s directed at him, confused at the man’s distaste for such as simple thing. he shakes his head lightly, looking away and deciding to take the box off the table to have something to do with his hands.

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no, please! tell me what you did mean.” she knew it was also stupid to get defensive so quickly, but so much of that part of her was influenced by beth, that she couldn’t help but feel a small attack on her friend’s character as well.

“just - look around us, alright? their ain’t exactly a great world out there that you’re smiling for, and the little miss sunshine thing you do - it’s boring-”

“little miss sunshine?” she had completely stilled in her place, astonished by the fucking gall, “just cause everyone doesn’t want to hate every single part of their life, you fucking cynic.” she angled her body away from him, her rage evident in every movement. she wanted to rip into him - truly - but knowing it’d do nothing more than hurt her voice, she decided against it, snatching the painkillers off of the desk, and walking back out of the door, closing - or, really slamming - it behind her.

tommy had laid into joel after another two weeks, when, after his recent meeting with her, she had made it evident that she would not be dealing through joel again.

“what the hell d’ya say to her, man? have you seen her, joel? she never gets mad at anyone and you managed to piss her off in, what, 15 minutes?” joel took the berating with a seemingly bored expression, but he’d also wondered if his crass attitude had gone too far when he last spoke to her.

it was just that damn smile.

he didn’t even know why it effected him so much, but he couldn’t help it - every time he saw that damn smile, he couldn’t think about anything else but it.

it was a distraction - and that’s why it annoyed him, he was sure. but, a part of him seemed almost scared at the effect she had on him, but that part was not something he’d be addressing anytime soon.

besides, he hadn’t really had to see it much after that, as she’d gone out of her way to not only avoid him, but to make her expression neutral should his paths crossed. and, well, though he felt like a bit of a dick, he though that would have been the end of it.

until he realized that he missed it.

they didn’t speak for the next few months. they hadn’t spoken before, either, but maybe it felt a little weirder considering they’d practically felt each up against a wall previously. though, she didn’t let the strange hiccup deter her from her work - or her smile, continuing to do so in every opportunity that she could.

her and tommy still spoke, and him - being obviously the more emotionally intelligent brother - didn’t even really bring up joel all that much in their conversation. she’d always felt a wave of memory hit her whenever she waited in that alleyway, but she never had time to dwell on it as, contrary to his brother, tommy was always on time.

she had finally returned to that state of comfort that she had felt when beth was still alive, in no part helped by her recent friendships with a neighbor or two. there was an older man in the building across from her, who was very sweet - finding a small joy by gardening, of all things. he had just the smallest pot with a sunflower growing in it, but he had cherished it like it was his baby. she had thought that it was beautiful, and though she felt that the weather always seemed a little cloudy and grey, she found a new appreciation for the sunlight that was there when she’d see the sunflower greedily soaking it up, standing proud, through the crack in her neighbor’s door.

life had been so incredibly decent, that she had forgotten it was simply a calm before a storm, just as her friendship with beth had been.

it had started in the middle of the night. one of the many smugglers in the q.z. had been infected on a run - not wanting to give himself up to his companions, and sneaking back in under the shadow of night.

that group was the first to go, and by the next day, she was woken up to the sound of blaring FEDRA alarms, jolting up so hard that she hit her shin. she paused for just the slightest of moments, trying to comprehend what was being said.

“-infected in the quarantine zone-” was all she had to hear to leap to her feet, grabbing the bag that always sat by the edge of her bed, and immediately grabbing anything and everything that she could. when she finally through her door open, she realized that she was late to the party, as all of those in her building had already deserted it.

she could barely step out of the building when she heard the heavy gunfire. considering the resources FEDRA had put into this q.z. they evidently refused to go out without a fight, and as she looked at the other side of the street, she could see a small group of them, evident by their pale faces and slightly jagged movements, mouth’s curled to create those inhumane growls. she stumbles just slightly, ducking behind her building in order to escape their view. she knew of an exit that wasn’t going to be FEDRA monitored on the other side of the q.z., but she knew that journey was dangerous at best right now.

she moved slowly, relying on small spaces between buildings and back alleys in order to move. she could hear screams - human and infected - and incessant gunfire, making her ears ring.

she was so close to getting out of here, only having to cross the large expanse between FEDRA and the infected. it was risky - and that was putting lightly, but there wasn’t really another way out of here.

she slung her bag as comfortably as she could, seeing a small blockade in the middle that she could duck under before booking it the rest of the way.

so, she ran.

and she made it to the blockade, uninjured. the bullets had whizzed around her, and she wondered if she’d make it another time. she caught her breath, and turned her head to gauge the rest of the distance.

when she did, though, she saw her neighbor - her eyes widening - as she realized that he was attempting something similar to her. time practically slowed down as she heard the exact bullet that would hit him, making him crumple to his knees.

her inhibitions practically disappear, as she forgets everything, running forward without care in order to see if she could help him. the bullet had hit his chest, and his breathing labored as she pulled him up just lightly, mumbling anything and everything she could to console him through his pain.

she couldn’t do this again - she couldn’t see someone else she cared about dead. this time, at least, she had the opportunity to help, so she would regardless of the negative consequences for herself.

then again, that is what many who don’t realize the consequences would say.

they was so close to being out of their range, but one of the stray bullet pierced her thigh as she attempted to help him his up. her knees buckle, the searing pain hitting her after a moment of just nothing, and she feels her grip on him dissolve, the both of them falling.

she keeled over him, taking off her sweater and wrapping it around her thigh, before turning to him, having to crawl slightly forward with her limp leg in order to properly look at him.

she could see it - she could see him dying, his labored breathing nothing more than a prolonging of the inevitable. nonetheless, she scrunched up the fabric in that area, desperately attempting to stop the bleeding, but it was too little, too late. he suddenly grabbed her wrist, something she felt before she saw, as the tears welling in her eyes were detrimental to her vision.

“my - my flower, did you see it?” she nods, she nods so hard that she feels her head’ll fall off.

“’f course, of course - it was so pretty - the best thing in the building.” she was rambling, hoping to remind of something happier than his current predicament. but she didn’t need to. the recognition for his hard work had been more than enough, and she felt his sighs become longer and deeper, before his stopped moving altogether.

she brought her hands to her face, desperately trying to control her tears, but they just wouldn’t stop. futilely, she crawled up against one of the buildings, knowing that she’d suffer the same fate, as when she attempted to place even the slightest pressure on her thigh, she had to muffle her screams of pain in her hand.

when she hears her name being called, she’s sure she’s misheard it, keeping her head down, and continuing to wipe her eyes.

but, she hears it more clearly, and she knows it wasn’t her imagination anymore, so she looks up, and sees joel looking down at her with the most severe look of concern he’d ever exhibited in front of her.

“jesus - what-” as he approaches her, he sees the makeshift bandage on her thigh, and the glossy tears on her face, “you got-” he can’t finish the sentence, and she nods almost a little pathetically. he gives her a quick once over, before grabbing her bag and slinging it over his larger shoulders, making it seem very small. her mouth falls open, believing he’d taken it in order to scavenge supplies off a dying body. her breathing falters at the inhumanity of the actions, before she feels his arms encapsulate her frame: one behind her back and one under her knees, “you can’t walk, can you?” the shock renders her speechless, so she opts to nod instead, and he tightens his grip on her slightly.

it’s an odd sensation, being lifted off of the ground, especially since she’d never felt it before. her thigh strained slightly against gravity, making her exhale deeply, a hiccup remaining as a remnant of her sobs, but she knew this pain was still far more bearable than her attempting to walk.

“put your arms-” she realizes that he’s still talking to her, using the minimal movement his head was now capable of to help her put her arms around his neck, taking some weight off of his forearms. she obliges, tentatively wrapping her arms over, before turning her head slightly forward and seeing the body of her dead neighbor just a few meters away.

she chokes for a moment, a mix of a gasp and a cry escaping her - and it flusters joel, making to him turn his head slightly as well, upon recognizing what she was looking at, he sighed. the heartbroken expression on her face made even him upset, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to soothe her.

“just - damn - just keep your eyes on me, okay? you don’t have to see all that.” she looks up at him, shocked by the sweetness of the comment, before nodding slightly, breathing quickly to calm her tears. he begins moving, and she sticks to his word, alternating between looking up at him, and resting her head by instead looking at the flannel he had on. when she would look at his face, she could see the tinge of worry breaking through his stoic exterior, as he attempted to keep moving despite his somewhat debilitating cargo - her. she’d wince when he’d turn too sharply, or jolt to a stop, and though she attempted to keep her winces and whimpers to a minimum, his brows would furrow each time in worry, and he would glance down at her to make sure the pain wasn’t too bad.

he’d begin shouting tommy’s name at some point, and though it took only another 5 minutes for him to rejoin his brother, it had felt like an agonizing eternity to joel. tommy stood shocked at the scene: he cared for her, but he didn’t know joel did. at least, not enough to carry her across the q.z., by any means.

“what the hell? is she-”

“shot, her thigh. we gotta get out of here - is the tunnel open?” tommy, still a bit shocked, nods, mouth hanging open, as he opened the door of the building they were standing in front of. there three of them - two, she supposed, with her in tow - made their way up to the third floor, and tommy practically kicked open one of the apartment doors. it wasn’t difficult - its previous owner had obviously left in a hurry as well. he bolts to the other side of the room, as she takes one arm off joel’s shoulder to slam the door shut behind him. a great creaking came from in front of her, and she craned her neck to see tommy moving several loose floorboards, and opening up a heavy metal hatch with a distinct, grinding pop under them. he holds it open as joel and her near it, and, when their standing in front of it, she realizes the tunnel is about 2 meters deep - maybe a little less - with a short ladder allowing easy movement.

joel worries it’s far too large a fall for her. he sets her back to her feet as gently as possible, and she immediately places as little weight on one of her legs as possible.

“here, hold her.” he takes her my her arm, resting most of her body weight on him, and helps her over to tommy, who keeps her steady with one hand as he holds the hatch open with the other. joel’s quick to scale down the ladder, before he turns his head up to look at the both of them, “you’re gonna have to jump.” her eyes widened at the idea, not believing that she’d get off the ground, much less survive the jump.

“i-what?” joel holds his hands out, and when her eyes flick up to tommy, he nods solemnly - as it was their only option.

“i’ve got ya.” she breathes deeply, squaring her shoulders, before lowering as softly as she can to her feet. as she dangles her thigh over the edge, it squeezes it, and she lets out a sharp cry that make’s both brothers wince. she uses her hands to lever her body forward, before she closes her eyes, her breath stilling.

then, she jumps, and the moment of free-fall consumes her, her body feeling as though she’s floating. and, as quickly as it occurs, it stops, when she feels joel’s arms wrap around her lower back, effectively breaking her fall before she hit the hard dirt. she uses her hands to stabilize herself when he sets her down, clutching far too tightly onto his shirt, feeling as though she was still falling. he reciprocates, sensing her obvious worry, and pulls her close to his torso, letting her ease her breathing. in a few more moments, tommy’s managed to cover up the majority of the entrance and come down. he takes her bag off joel’s shoulders.

“want me to help her?” he offers, not exactly sure how long his brother had been carrying her, but knowing that a break may have been appreciated either way.

“i’ve got her.” it’s a sharp response, and it makes tommy furrow his eyebrows, confused by the tone. he doesn’t dwell on it, though, as joel’s picked her up again, and she’s buried her face into the crook between her and his chest.

it was a long trip through the long tunnel, but, when tommy finally opened the latch on the other side, she greedily looked up at the sun for the first time that cloudy morning, so enthusiastic that when she next blinked, she could see sun spots.

it’s just a short walk from there to one of the many houses that smugglers camped in overnight on longer trips. it was a bit dingy - but at least decently clean. the last time joel had been here, smashed glass from beer bottles had littered the floor, as did some rotting food.

there was only a couch and a bed, and joel sets her down on the couch as tommy checks their inventory.

they’re ridiculously low on supplies: enough food for only one meal, and neither enough weapons, ammo or supplies in the case of an unexpected visitor.

“shit - i’ll go over to c.v.s., see if they have anything.” there was a rundown c.v.s. just a short walk from this house that had been practically stripped by the time tommy and joel had first come by it. they’d, therefore, found it to be a perfect place to stash some supplies, as many would refuse to look too far upon seeing the initial emptiness, assuming that it had been picked clean. joel doesn’t even acknowledge the sentence until he hears the door click shut.

he’s looking down at her haggard form, and, seeing that her sweater had practically soaked through in blood, he reaches for their first aid.

at least the blood was a bit old, the pressure on the wound stopping the majority of the bleeding. joel grabs the crude tweezers, stretching them so that they could comfortably pluck out the bullet lodged in her flesh. she can see the dead expression on her face, showing her obvious disassociation from her painful sensation. a pillow still remained on the couch - shockingly - so he handed it to her, instructing her to bite down on it to forget some of the pain.

she looks at him with renewed worry, unsure of how decent an anesthetic biting would be. he places his palm lightly on the knee of her injured leg, hoping to keep it in place, as he removes the sweater. the wound made her gasp, the flesh having been mangled lightly due to the rough conditions. he lifted her chin up, urging her to instead look at the ceiling. her eyes flutter, and she can feel tears glass over her eyes when she feels the metal of the tweezers ever so lightly graze her skin.

“i’m - i’ve gotta take it out, okay?” she doesn’t nod, but she doesn’t protest either, so he takes it she understands, and he lightly pulls at the skin to make the wound larger, in order to more quickly pluck out the bullet. she whimpers around the pillow, biting hard already, and he lowers the tweezers.

she can feel them inside her skin, and she uses her hands to squeeze the pillow as well, her screams becoming more distinct, loud.

“you’re good, you’re good, you’re doing good-” joel doesn’t even know how to console someone, but he tries his level best, praising her endlessly as he swiftly, but meticulously pulls out the bullet. the blood restarts, practically spurting out of her leg, and she can feel the liquid over her skin, weaving around her hair follicles as she desperately attempted to keep her leg still. he places a cloth over it, before replacing it with gauze immediately, allowing the material to soak up the blood. the pain still consumed her, but it turned from sharp to more dull. she drops the pillow, along with her hands. they were both panting, but their breathing slowed, as they realized that the stress was less in that moment. he keeps a firm hand on her thigh, and she lets her head drop against the couch.

in another few minutes, he reminds her that he still needs to stitch her up. it hurt like a bitch too, but nothing trumped the feeling of the bullet leaving her body. he made swift work of the procedure, and she wondered how many times he’d had to do it.

when he’d finished, he lowered his arms, breathing a deep, relieved, and contemplative sigh as he sat back a little, taking weight off of his own legs. though her leg was stitched up, she was fully against the idea of getting up, so she relegated herself to getting comfortable on the couch. joel also got up after another few moments, placing the first aid back in her bag, before taking a look around the house - seeing if any previous visitors had forgotten any supplies.

they had, as an unopened ziplock of crackers sat in one of the kitchen cabinets. it hadn’t been here last month when they’d previously stopped by, and the opened the container, inspecting it carefully to see if it was alright to eat. he took a small bite and, determining that it was alright, he walked back over to the couch.

she had lightly adjusted to the side as he had neared, so he relaxed into the cushion next to her, trying not to invade her space. he handed her a cracker, which she graciously accepted. she hadn’t realized how hungry she was, not having eaten since the previous night.

“it’ll make you feel better,” he’d mumbled, as he handed it to her, and she breathed a quiet thank you in response. they sit in a silence only broken by the crunching of the crackers, and she finds herself ever so subtly glancing at the man next to her.

he looked tired, which was understandable, and his hard expression remained on his face. the severity of it reminded her of their only prolonged conversation - which was truly more of an argument.

“why - why did you help me?” it’d been a question plaguing her since he had so delicately patched her up - a far cry from the man who had condemned her for as little as smiling.

his brow furrows at the question, as he’d not been accepting it.

“what? you were bleeding out on the street - i couldn’t just leave you.” she let the explanation mull in her head, before shaking it.

“no - so many people were like that, but you only helped me. why?” he turned his body just slightly to face her, a bewildered expression on his face.

“did you not want me to?” she immediately protests.

“no! i mean - i’m grateful. honestly, i’d have been dead hours ago had it not been for you. it’s just-” suddenly, his stare felt too intense, and she averted her eyes, “you always gave off the impression that you didn’t like me.” she shrugs, hoping it’s a sufficient explanation. it seems to be, as he goes silent. then, he breathes deeply.

“i do - i do. tommy likes you, so i’ll like you.” it’s a diplomatic answer, and she realizes it, but she decides to nod instead of probing further.

“alright, well - thank you.” she goes to smile, but stops herself, “i’m allowed to smile, yeah?” she means it as a half-joke, but he finds a lot of amusement in it, looking at her quizzically, before laughing at the comment. she’d never even seen him crack a smile, much less a laugh.

it was a nice change of pace.

“please do. you haven’t done it since morning - i was starting to get concerned.” though her previous smile may have been one of politeness, this one comes from the sarcastic nature of the comment.

the quirk of her lips gave him some peace, his mind having been racing with worry over her for the past few hours. maybe it was distracting, but he supposed everyone needs a little bit of that.

and if it comes in the form of a pretty smile - even better.

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us hbo #the last of us #that damn smile #pedro pascal

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