#and an island. farmer's sink

[los-angeles-county-limousine]

Kitchen - Pantry

[livbedum]

Maybank! Reader trying to get Rafe off of her as JJ is face timing her! I need to know how she'd react. I just know Rafe would be such a tease!!!

are you trying to kill me?

maybank!reader x rafe cameron

summary you’re spending time with your boyfriend while jj has been trying to get ahold of you

warnings profanity , jj almost catching you with rafe , secret relationship

a/n oh lord , just know this is not the only time this has happened

18+ minors dni

you were at rafe’s house for the weekend. initially , you were supposed to spend a couple of days in charleston ; there was a farmer’s market going on that you had wanted to go to , but rafe had a meeting in the morning. so instead of a weekend away , you both decided on a weekend at home.

no phones , no disruptions. just you and rafe. you had told jj that some touron was taking you to some place special , seeming unimpressed but still choosing to go. that got him off your back so he wasn’t checking your whereabouts all weekend. if he did , he’d see you were at tannyhill.

“i know you’re upset about not making it onto the mainland this weekend,” rafe apologized from his desk , looking at you as you lounged on his bed, “sorry.”

“baby , it’s fine,” you assured him , scrolling through tiktok on his phone while he finished up some paperwork. “you’re hot when you’re in business mode. i don’t exactly mind,” you added , getting up from bed and stalking over to him.

“yeah?” he smiled , spinning in the chair to face you and give you a seat in his lap, “well i’d hope you’d think so considering this deal will help us in the future.”

rafe was always talking about that. your future together. he constantly told you every move he makes is securing the life that you both wanted. a life away from your families ; a life that you could spend together without anyone else’s opinions.

“i like when you talk about our future,” you admitted , arms coming around rafe’s neck as you found purchase in his lap, “gets me excited. y’know , it’s nice to see how much you care about us.”

“i care about you more than most things,” rafe replied , planting kissing from your cheek down to your neck.

you sighed , really letting the feeling of his lips sink into your sink. “i’m sorry that everything is so difficult,” you sighed , letting your head fall to his shoulder as rafe’s hand rubbed your back, “i wish things were different , and you could be with me in front of everyone. i know it bothers you,” you continued , pressing kisses into the side of his neck and face.

“i would love if i could show you off to everyone. let the whole island know that you’re mine,” rafe agreed, “but i know that it’s not a plausible option until we have the ability to get away if need be.” he was right ; there was no world that you could be publicly dating rafe cameron. mostly because of the stigma around pogues dating kooks , but also because of your friend group’s history with rafe and his friends.

“i love you regardless,” you smiled , looking into his eyes gently. you loved this man more than anyone in your life— besides jj. rafe pressed a smiley kiss onto your lips , picking you up and moving to the bed. his body covered yours as he kissed up and down your neck , getting you to laugh and try to push him off “stop it! are you trying to kill me?!” you cackled , still trying to remove him.

“i think you’ll find your attempts to get me off of you aren’t going to work , babe,” he laughed into your neck , lifting for a second to kiss your face, “it’s cute though.”

“yeah well , it’s not my fault you’re gigantic,” you sighed , lungs not filling as much as usual because of rafe’s weight on you, “besides it’s not like i’m actually—“

your words were cut off when your phone started ringing. you knew it was your phone when you heard the ringtone. it was jj. “who is it? thought we agreed no contact with the outside world.” rafe grumbled , letting his head rest on your shoulder.

“get off of me,” you rushed out , actually trying to get him away now, “it’s jj,” you announced , reaching for your phone on the side table , but you couldn’t because rafe was keeping you in your spot.

“no , we agreed,” he shook his head , refusing to move.

“babe , it might be important,” you huffed , really , truly pushing at him as your phone rang one final time before going silent, “rafe! what if something’s wrong? i gotta call him back. get off , freak,” you were still laughing a little , but only because you could feel rafe chuckling to himself.

you were finally able to reach your phone , grabbing it just as jj called again. a facetime call now. “what could he possibly want that’s more important than me and you fucking?” rafe asked , thrusting his hips against yours jokingly.

“literally the possibilities are endless,” you sighed , accepting the facetime after telling rafe to ‘please shut the fuck up for once in your life’

“dude , i know you said you’re having your romantic getaway weekend with what’s his face , but you will not believe the swell i just dominated!” jj started talking as soon as you picked up , angling the phone so rafe’s head was out of frame.

“wow! that’s cool , bud,” you mused, “but i’m kinda busy , so…” you made a face , knowing jj could tell that you didn’t want to be on the phone with him at the moment.

“ew! i don’t care that you’re fucking some touron , i just had to tell— hey , where are you anyway?” jj asked , squinting his eyes in the sun to try and view his screen and your location a little better.

you glared at rafe when he stifled a giggle. “at some hotel with what’s his face,” you lied , rolling your eyes, “i gotta go , jacky!”

“okay , use protection. i love you. see you in a couple of da—” he rambled before you hung up on him and hit rafe.

“why would you laugh!” you couldn’t help yourself but join in , finally pushing rafe onto his back on the bed and getting on top of him, “you’re a bad influence , y’know.”

“you love it,” rafe smiled , hands finding purchase on your hips as he looked at you.

“debatable.”

rafe sat up , bringing you with him as he leaned against his headboard. “what can i do to swing your vote?” he wondered , pressing soft kisses all over your face, “i’ll do whatever.”

you laughed and grabbed his face , kissing him back. the kiss was practically teeth clashing because of your smiles. “consider me convinced already.”

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @icaqttt @yootvi @inlovewithmorales

[xbabyjah]

Los Angeles Kitchen

[hsdiaries]

dinner activities

boyfriend!harry x original character

choking, bits of praise, oral f receiving, p in v

I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the fresh produce I had gotten at the farmers market. Strawberries, cherries, apples, mangos. I wanted to make a giant fruit salad for when Harry got home. He had been working late nights in the studio all week, and today was the first night he would actually be home early. I wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, having him hold me. Being his girlfriend with his schedule was often tough, but he was worth every moment of it.

Once I had finished washing all the fruit I moved over to the kitchen island, pulling out our giant wooden cutting board and starting to cut up the fruit. I would pop some in my mouth as I went, enjoying the sweetness against my tongue. As I chopped I heard the front door open, Harry walking in. His hair was tied up in a bun, loose black shirt and grey sweats on his body. He was always so handsome to me this way. I loved a man in a suit, but with Harry, sweats and nothing else was his best outfit.

"Hello darling," he smiled at me, taking off his shoes before walking over to me. I turned and looked at him as he approached, he leaned in, kissing me gently. His lips moved on mine slowly, and though the kiss ended, his lips lingered on mine. I smiled against it, feeling him smile too.

"I've missed you today, Lacey, a lot." He whispered, pulling away and leaning back against the island. I couldn't help but notice how his arm muscles flexed as he held his weight up.

"I've been missing you this entire week if we are being honest." I smiled small, popping a piece of mango in my mouth. He opened his mouth at me causing me to giggle and I grabbed a piece, feeding it to him. He caught my hand as I did, licking the juice of fruit off my fingers.

I narrowed my eyes at him a bit, pulling my hand back, "Behave yourself, Harry Edward."

"I'm afraid I don't know how, Lace." He smirked, a devilish dimple on his left cheek.

I rolled my eyes, pushing away from the island to wash my hands before coming back to cut more fruit. As I did, he slipped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Is this dinner?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, I hope that's fine? I can also grill some salmon if you want." I said, chopping up some kiwi had left before it went bad.

"Mmm, no, this is fine darling." He said, his face turning and kissing my neck, slowly at first, the tip of his tongue teasing small licks on my neck, each met after with a kiss.

I inhaled sharply, my grip tightening on the knife as I licked my lips. He knew what he was doing and I knew what he wanted; but I wanted to make him work for it.

"How was the studio?" I said, holding my voice steady, though I could feel my stomach tighten.

He chuckled a bit, "Good actually. I finished two tracks. Just ten more to go."

"You got this baby," I said, as he reached over and grabbed a strawberry. He brought it up to my lips and I took a bite out of it. As I chewed it, I felt him run the strawberry down my neck, the juice spreading across it. His lips soon began sucking down my neck, his tongue licking up the mess he had made.

"Harry, what are you doing." I said, my grip loosening on the knife, my eyes fluttering close slightly.

"Mm, nothing." He breathed against my neck, his voice so low and deep, nipping at my neck gently, "Just enjoying my dinner."

I shook my head a bit, biting my lip, "It's not even ready, you're going to spoil it."

"Mm, I'm just helping with the preparation, that's all." He said, his voice still low. He popped the rest of the strawberry in his mouth, as his other hand began moving down my waistline, around to the front of my stomach. He moved it further down my front, his fingers teasing along my center, causing my legs to squeeze together, the knife dropping from my hand completely.

"Baby..." I whimpered as he began rolling his fingers over my clit.

"Keep making dinner Lacey." He said sternly, there was a lust in his voice and I nodded, swallowing. His dominance was always something that drove me insane, I loved it every bit of it. I swallowed, steadying myself and grabbing the knife. I took a deep breath and kept cutting the fruit, careful not to cut myself as I did.

His hand slid back up to my stomach only to push under the band of my leggings and underwear. His fingers pressed against my bare clit, my head falling back slightly at the feel. I bit my lip, looking back down at the fruit, concentrating on cutting it. As I did, I watched his hand come back to the cut fruit, picking up a piece of kiwi. I felt him move the kiwi over my earlobe, and down to the spot right behind it on my neck.

"Now you're just being plain mean." I said, clearing my throat. He knew these were my weak spots, he knew I would completely give in to anything.

He moved his face close to my ear, chuckling a bit, "I don't know what you mean. I think I'm being quite nice right now." He said, his teeth on my earlobe biting it softly, only for him to begin to suck on it, "And the best part of it is, none of this will taste as delicious as what I know is between your thighs." He said before moving to the spot on my neck, his fingers moving quicker on my clit, causing my to push my ass backwards onto him.

I could feel his hard cock the moment I did, and I decided, he wasn't the only one who could be a tease. I began to roll my hips back onto him, my ass moving up and down his hardening cock. When he bit down on the area behind my ear, I knew I was working him up.

"Bloody hell, Lacey." He said, as he placed his entire hand flat against my middle, pushing me back against him, "Fuck the fruit, come here." He quickly wrapped his hand tight around my neck, the kiwi he was still holding spreading all over my neck but I didn't care. I let go of the knife, bracing myself on the counter.

My head fell back onto his shoulder and soon his lips were on my neck. His tongue cleaning up the mess he made, his teeth dragging along my neck. His other hand moved so he could slip a finger in me, then another.

"Oh..fuck." I moaned out, my hips stilling moving on him; causing his fingers to sink deeper in me as I did. He curled his fingers inside me, pushing against my sweet spot, the spot he only knew the perfect location too.

"So wet for me, darling, god I can't wait to slip inside you, to fill you up." He groaned in my ear, his words causing my nerve endings to ignite everywhere, my body craving to be touched by him. His lips never left my neck, always coming back, and sucking hard on me. Peppering kisses all along the length of it.

"I want you to fuck me, Harry." I moaned out, my grip tightening on the counter, his fingers moving in and out of me as I grind my body on them. I was going to come, it wasn't go to take much to get me there in this position.

He dragged his hand down from my neck, over my breasts, palming at them and further spreading the kiwi over my white tank and I didn't care. He was making me a mess both physically and mentally. His hand kept moving down my body, gripping tightly at my skin, moving down to my middle, pushing my leggings and underwear down. He grabbed on tight to the band so he could push them down, lowering them to my mid-thigh. He brought his hand to my clit, moving quick circles over it, causing my movements on him to stop.

"Har-Harry, oh my god..." I reached back, grabbing onto him for support, "Baby..ba..uh...I'm going to come. Plea—" he didn't stop moving in and out of me, his fingers rolling on my clit so deliciously.

"Come for me darling, come for me and I'll fuck you right after, come for me." He purred in my ear, motivating me. I could feel my core tightening and the more I thought about him slipping his length inside of me the closer I got to my high.

I turned my face to him, our eyes locking and soon our lips were on each others, his tongue finding mine, running along it. This was all I needed, I melted instantly, coming all over his fingers. My legs squeezed shut, my mouth off of his, hanging open, no sound coming from me. He moved his fingers from my clit, still moving his fingers in me as I rode out my high.

"Oh...oh that felt so good babe, oh..." I finally chuckled out, causing him to laugh a bit and kiss my cheek.

"And to think, I'm not even done," he said, removing his fingers from inside me. He placed both his hands on my hips, sliding them up my body, bringing my tank with them, slipping it over my head. He turned me around pushing the fruit and the cutting board to the side lifting me up in the counter. He grabbed the knife, turning around and throwing it in the sink.

He stepped back a bit, licking his lips and taking me in. He reached back, pulling on the collar of his shirt and slipping it over his head. As he did, I unhooked my bra, slipping it off of me and throwing it to the side. I locked eyes with him as he unbuttoned his pants, biting my lip and breaking eye contact to face the fruit. I reached over and grabbed a strawberry, turning back to face him as I bit into it. I ran the fleshy, wet fruit along my lips, running it down my neck. I trailed it over my nipples, watching as he smirked at me. By now he was just as naked as me, and he moved toward me, his lips meeting mine. Kissing me hungrily, sucking in my lower lip, biting it and claiming it as his own.

His lips began to wander down my neck, following the trail I had mapped out for him with the strawberry, his tongue moving over my nipples, sucking on them as his hands held my breasts up to his mouth. He kept trailing a path down my body with his mouth, ending at my middle, his tongue lapping over my folds, taking in all my wetness, before settling on my clit. He rolled his tongue on it, and I instinctively reached down, I pulled on the elastic holding back his long hair, pulling it until his hair was freed. He groaned, because I wasn't gentle and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I wrapped my hand in his hair, my fingers tangling in it, pushing him hard against me. I moved my middle against his tongue, my head falling back, taking in every bit of pleasure I was feeling because of it. I felt greedy, but only for a moment.

"Mmm, oh god I could fuck your mouth all night," I moaned, his chuckle vibrating against me causing me to laugh as well. He pulled away from my middle and I hated how much stronger he was than me that he was able to do this.

He stood up straight, leaning forward and kissing me, "You're a spoiled brat tonight."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "All you have to do is ask." I said, reaching down between us and taking his length in my hand, running up and down it. I stopped only to spit on my hand, to add more slick.

I moved over his tip, running my palm over it like I knew he liked, "I'll never pass up a chance to make you feel good baby, never pass up a chance to remind you how much I love you."

I bit my lip at him and he leaned his forehead down on mine, "God, I love you, Lacey." He pushed down, and kissed me deeply. His hand reaching up and choking me as he did, he pushed my head back moving his lips from mine, locking eyes with me, "I love you so damn much." He said, my hand moving up and down his length, I could feel his veins on his cock pulse, and he bit his lip, letting go of my neck to reach down and remove my hand from his length.

"I don't want to come that way," he said, moving to remove my leggings from me completely. He picked me up in his arms, bringing me back down to the floor and turning me back around, bending me over the kitchen island, "I want to come like this."

He pushed his length into me, giving me no mercy. No moment to adjust. He rocked his hips against me, moving in and out of me. His strokes were long and hard, his fingers digging into my hips as he did.

"God, you feel so fucking good baby, fuck Lacey." He said, his pace picking up. He reached down and lifted my right leg up on the counter, allowing him deeper in me, and I yelled out in pleasure. I squeezed against his length, feeling every bit of him fill me up.

"Fuck, Harry. Oh fuck baby...."

"Is that good for you darling, huh? Tell me how good I feel baby." He groaned, his hand wrapping around my waist, moving up to cup my breast, palming at them as he pulled me against him.

"So fucking good, Har..Harry, oh..." I moaned, turning to look at him, leaning up and kissing him messily. We kissed and moaned against each others lips. I couldn't keep my eyes from rolling back into my head. He felt so damn good, his movements were so aggressive, so sure of what they were doing.

"Oh, Lace...I don't think I can...fu-oh you feel so fucking good. Bloody hell." He groaned, leaning his head down and biting at my shoulder.

His movements were becoming sloppy, he was clinging onto me tighter, as if holding on for dear life.

"I'll come with you baby, keep going please." I said, using my leg to help me move up and down his length. He hissed as I began my movements, helping me move on him, holding my hips.

"Lacey...oh baby. That's it, oh fuck me like that. Oh...fucks sake, I'm going to com—me too, I'm coming Harry...I'm.." I interrupted, as we both came together. I fell back against his body as he fell forward on mine. I chuckled, riding out my high. He laced kisses along my back, bringing small chills along my body. He attempted to pull out and I squeezed against him.

"Fucks sakes woman, you're going to murder me." He said and I giggled, relaxing so he could pull out. We both groaned at the sensation, and he continued to place kisses along my back, "I love you, Lace."

"I love you, too."

[aetherdoesthings]

HALLOWEEN EVENT

forethoughts: Hey guys! No, I'm not dead, I've been taking a break to work on my mental and physical health. This piece is a part of @edgeray's halloween event! Thank you for letting me join, and for the rest I hope you enjoy and have a happy halloween!

notes: goddess!arlecchino, gn!reader, reader is a child

Thunder boomed around you, the rocky terrain under your feet trembling from the shockwaves. Rain was constantly attacking your body, the heavy downpour making the climb harder to accomplish as you held onto your walking stick, keeping the potato sack close to your heart. Just a few more steps, you told yourself. Just a few more steps. What you were experiencing now was nothing like what your village was experiencing down below. You had to do this. For them. For their safety. 

A yelp was ripped out of your throat as your sandals slipped on one of the steps, your chin landing first onto the uneven, sharp surface. You grimaced in pain as your teeth sunk into your gum, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. Your hand clutched onto the potato sack filled with all your village’s treasures, placing it in the nook of your stomach you created from your fall. Pain trembled through your body, your muscles begging you to give up and go home. No, your mind shot back. You had to do this. You were your village’s only hope. With legs that shivered every second and wanted to collapse, you forced yourself into an awkward crawling position, pressing the potato sack next to your chest as you started your climb again. Left, right, left right, you chanted to yourself. Just a few more steps. The sound of lightning became white noise to your ears, the rain becoming a source of comfort to your sweaty and exhausted body as you got closer to the temple. Sharp pebbles found its way beyond your skin, shattered wood from other offerings penetrating your soles as you trudged up the mountain. 

Trudging your feet in front of the other, your body collapsed the moment you stepped foot inside the pristine marble temple with crimson ornate patterns, your body under the protection of the roof. No time. You don’t have time to waste. You told yourself, trekking into the center of the temple, until you faced an altar. The altar was made with the villages’ expert architects and builders, as was the whole temple; Not a single scratch nor dust covered its surfaces. The halls were covered with marble statues and extravagant art commissioned by the church of your village, displaying the images of the patron goddess to your village. 

Many had deemed your village to be cursed and unfortunate, for legend had it that your patron goddess would steal the souls of the young and take it for Herself. The legends and stories you heard about the deity was enough to make you sleep with one eye open during your entire childhood. The Goddess that had claimed your island as Hers was a just and righteous one as the church proclaimed, however the toll for safety and protection from Her omnipotence was a heavy one. Plague and disaster always found its way to your island; it was Her who kept it away, in exchange for the souls who had not seen nor explored the world. It was the souls of the pure and innocent She seeked, thus every month you’d watch as priests brought children your age up the same stairs you had gone up and never see them again. The next day the sun would shine and farmers would find bountiful harvests. 

Your mind raced with the instructions the church had given you on what to do, taking all the treasure inside the damp potato sack and laying it out on the altar, before sinking to your knees, head touching the ground and hands in front of you. You murmured the prayer the bishops had taught you, clenching your eyes shut and praying for an answer. 

“Oh, Arlecchino, patron Goddess of our village, answer my pleas!” You cried out, eyes flying to the ceiling. The temple trembled like an earthquake was shaking the mountain the temple was on, as the ground below the altar started to crack, the rocks falling down into an abyss along with all your treasure. You shuffled your body back, away from the hole in the ground that grew crimson vines on the side. 

“Mortal, why have you woken me from my slumber?” The temple shook at the blaring voice, as a dark figure emerged from the hole, two crimson crosses staring at your tiny body. Your parents had told you that the Goddess’ cruelty extended only to the elders and those who had committed atrocities towards the young; there was a soft spot for the innocent the Goddess had. But those were only fantasies you filled your head with as you faced the being that could take your life away in a blink of an eye.

You kept your head to the ground and eyes clenched shut, repeating the words the church leaders had told you. “Goddess, I plead to you, the almighty, that you remove the storm and famine that struck my village and spare everyone. Please take these precious artifacts from our village as an offering.”

Your muscles tightened, bracing yourself to have your soul erased from the world. Instead, your body was soaked in warmth and comfort, all sense of fear and trepidation losing its power over your mind. You naturally allowed yourself to sink into the comfort, reclining back on a soft surface that pulled you away from the cold and hard marble ground. The scabs and scars on your knees and foot healed itself without any traces; a light and warm feeling ignited inside your heart. 

“Child, why are you injured?” The voice spoke again, this time with a softer edge and calming tone. Your eyes locked onto the source of the voice, reality finding its way to coexist with the serenity that filled your head. You were lying down on a hand. The hand. The hand of the Goddess that killed your people and brought terror to your village. In front of you was Arlecchino Herself, the Goddess allowing you to see Her face fully. Your jaw fell at the sight of the Goddess’ features, as it was a stark difference from the descriptions of the church and the storybooks. 

“Do not be afraid.” Words flowed out of those pink lips, the crimson crosses in Her eyes softening its gleam as She observed your body. She was looking at you. You were in Her hands. Despite your mind trying to remind you that your village was in a crisis and you were their only savior, all you could feel was an overwhelming want of comfort and warmth. 

“My village…” You managed to stutter out.

“Has doomed themselves for their wrongdoings against one another and the greater good. Greed and evil has consumed your village, the wickedness filling the hearts of even those in the church. The lust for money and power has consumed your village, even though you cannot see it, my dear child. Your village has doomed itself to fall, consumed with sin. No amount of artifacts nor trinkets can save your village.”

My mind went blank, eyes staring into Hers with my mouth ajar, shoulders slumping. What? No. It can’t be. You grew up with these people. How could they be evil?

“Therefore, their fates have been determined and decided. What they are experiencing now is fated. However… yours has not.”

“...W-What?” You stammered, falling back against her fingers. Within the blink of an eye, the same surging feeling of serenity and warmth trampled your worry and fear for the people whom you grew up with.

“You do not deserve to grow up in a world consumed by evil and sin, with those proclaiming to be just but are hypocrites in the dark. I can take you to a place where no harm or bad things can happen to you, my dear, pure child. This world has been doomed, but rest assured that I will not let this world consume you.”

Your mind couldn’t protest; there was something blocking all the senses to tell your brain something wasn’t right and to stay focused on what you were sent here to do. Your body reclined itself against the palm of Arlecchino, fear and worry slipping away into nothingness. The words that poured out of those lips took away all your control of your own body, your eyes shining with curiosity and wondering, pinned to the Goddess. 

“Would you like to see what that world may be? All your friends are there. Past, present, and future.” Arlecchino asked, Her lips curling upwards as She brought you closer to her gaze.

Your lips parted, head nodding as a single breath escaped your lips. Your brain couldn’t even comprehend your surroundings and give a reaction accordingly; your mouth moved on a foreign command. In an instant, a familiar feeling of warmth flooded your body. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor painful. Rather, it felt like the flames fueled by care and comfort, the flames that kept you warm during the harsh winters, not the flames that you saw the elders use to burn those at the stake. But the sight of seeing flesh burning alive was scorched the moment your mind conjured it, and was the other memories you had that once brought you pain.

One moment, you were scrambling up a mountain in the pouring rain and thunder with bruises and scratches on your skin. The next, you were standing in a luscious grass field, the sounds of other children your age laughing grabbing your attention, eager to join them on their fun. A house stood a few yards ahead of you, ornate with vines, the walls made with marble chiseled to perfection. All you wanted to do was play; the concept of worry and fear left your mind. 

“Ah, a new arrival.” You looked up. A woman stood before you, a kind and warm smile on her face as she bent down to your eye level. She had white hair that was tied into a ponytail behind her head, crimson crosses in her eyes that only shined with warmth. You thought you saw her before, somewhere, but you didn’t feel like thinking. 

“Fret not, nothing will harm you. You may call me Father.” Father picked you up, as you instinctively snuggled against the woman. “Welcome to the House of the Hearth. May your stay be filled with warmth and joy.”

[haee-elia]

spence-tober: day 2 - farmer

pairing: farmer!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which you live a quiet yet exciting and passionate love with your husband on his family's farm.

word count: 1434

warnings: domestic fluff, crop farmer not animal, mentions of a knife in terms of cooking

spence-tober masterlist

There was a creaking noise. There, as you stood at the large farm style sink while you were washing off some vegetables for dinner. You almost missed it with the sound of the water rushing out of the faucet, but you caught it. Just barely.

A stone cold expression washeed over your face and you turned the faucet off.

No other noise permeated throughout the one-floor renovated country farmhouse. No more water. No more creaking. Not even the sound of your breath, as it caught in your throat.

You slowly turned your torso and body around, a full 180 degrees. 

“Spencer Walter Reid. You better not be trekking mud and dirt through this kitchen.” You scold lightly as you look at your husband who froze in his step. 

Like you had guessed by the lack of shuffling or scuffing sounds at the back door of the house, Spencer’s work boots were caked in layers of dirt and mud and soil. The cuffs of his overalls were tucked into the boots to avoid the grime from touching his skin, but that did no good for his arms and hands judging by the look of them. 

His face was a little better off. A perpetual redness decorated his cheeks and tips of his ears, slightly sunburned from being outside all day, nearly every day. His hair was a mess, but it was a sign that he was indeed wearing that large brimmed hat you got him for his birthday. 

His expression read guilty but he still didn’t respond.

You nod at his feet, “Boots off. Wash off in the sink, please.” You say as you move out of the way of the sink, bringing your collander of vegetables with you to the island of the rustic kitchen.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer responds finally, following your instructions and shirking off his boots to the nearby shoe rack and moving towards the sink.

“How’s everything looking?” You inquire as the sound of water echoes through the room once again.

“Good,” Spencer responds, “The rain from this morning helped shorten the work day so I only had to check the hydration in the greenhouse. The humidity was a little high, but everything’s straightened out now.”

His now clean hands turned the water off and he turned to you as he dryed them off with the little hand towel hanging on the rack above the sink.

“Did you know that too much humidity in the air can cause crops and other plants to attract bacteria, fungi, pests, and grow mold? Not only will crops attract more bacteria, but imbalance humidity levels to the type of crop can cause the transpiration rates to slow, prohibiting development and growth.”

His eyes gleam with excitement and wealth of knowledge as he looks at you, explaining with a smile. Hanging up the towel in its rightful place, Spencer shuffled over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder, almost nuzzling into you.

You turn your head and kiss his cheek with a gentle smile, “No, I didn’t know that.”

Spencer had met you when he was in university studying agriculture and you for renewable energy engineering. You started dating in your undergrad, moved in together and got engaged while pursuing masters, and got married once you both had graduated. 

Moving back to Spencer’s family’s farm was a joint decision between the two of you when his mom started getting a little tired of the work. Diana retired and started traveling while you and Spencer started making the land your home. 

Spencer kept up with the farm and greenhouse, hiring extra farmhands when harvest came along and you implemented some new energy equipment that would cut down on power costs in the long run.

“What did you get up to today, sweets?” He asked, returning your kiss on the cheek with a tender peck at your temple.

You reach up with your hands, abandoning the dinner prep, and hold onto his arms that drape around your shoulders. You both start swaying to non-existent music, just drifting back and forth together, relishing in the closeness of your bodies. 

“Well,” You start to think, “I finished a few proposal costs and went through some freelance work.”

Renewable energy was really taking off, even in the smaller town that you both now reside in. Other farms as well as other businesses have consulted you for evaluations, plus you did accept freelance work from the city nearby.

“I finished the final coat of paint for the guest room and I’ll need your help moving the new bed in there this weekend before your mom comes to visit. We should also decide what we want to do with the old study.”

You felt Spencer nod at your neck. “That sounds good.” He says.

He pulls away slightly, “We can move in the bed tonight after dinner and we should wait on the study until Mom comes to town. She won’t want to sit and do nothing and I don’t need her out in the field with me.”

You giggle, “You mean you don’t want Diana to scold you when you step on a tomato on the ground?”

He groans from your neck, “It was only that one time!” He shakes his head, but you can hear a smile on his face, “I swear, she watches me like a hawk watches it’s prey.” He grumbles.

“Too many farmers in the field?” You ask jokingly. 

“Yes.” Spencer responds, gruffly. 

“Well,” You start to say, “Diana would agree.” You pull away from Spencer and give him the vegetables and a chopping board. You start to move around the kitchen, working on other aspects of dinner.

“She said you weren’t wading through the corn the right way and that it would hurt you and the corn.” You tell.

Spencer looks up at you from chopping up some carrots with a doubtful look on his face, “She only mentioned it hurting the corn, didn’t she?” He asked.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing and nod. 

Diana and Spencer were two peas in a pod. But one thing they could nearly never agree on is the occupation and hobby that they share. They teased and compared and playfully poked fun at each other in the field, but it was Diana who gave Spencer his love of farming in the first place.

She was the one who made it fun for the lanky child in his youth, at first just picking berry bushes, then helping out in the greenhouse, and then again in his teens during harvest season.

You were worried when first meeting Diana that she wouldn’t like you, but you got along quickly with both of your loves of nature and green energy. Plus your shared love of Spencer would always bring you together.

After a few giggles escape you, you turn back to your husband. “Oh!” You say, getting his attention.

“That reminds me, you need to call Jim Harvey back. He wanted to see if we have the harvest this year to expand his existing order.”

“Again?” Spencer asked in amusement, not looking up from the knife in his hand, being careful to chop the vegetables without taking off a part of his finger. 

You nodded, “Yeah, something about expecting more calves this year or something.” You remember.

Spencer scoffs, adding the finished vegetable pieces in a bowl for you. “But he says that-” 

“Every year.” You both finish together. 

You giggle as Spencer chuckles. You gladly take the bowl from him and set it aside, them grabbing his hands and enveloping them around you. You cage yourself in his arms and look up at your husband. 

You bring your hands up to his face, the slight scruff of his chin making you smile fondly. “Why don’t you call him back and take a shower while I finish up dinner.” You say.

You press a kiss to his lips, which are slightly chapped from staying outside in the sun all day.

Spencer smiles and chases your lips for more, “That,” He gives you another peck, “Sounds.” Another peck. “Good.” And another. 

You regrettably untangle yourself from your husband. “Dinner will be ready by the time you’re out of the shower, my love.”

Spencer pulls you into him once again and presses a longer, more passionate kiss on your lips, stealing your breath away. His lips are pinker and a little swollen, you believe yours aren’t too far off either. 

His eyes gleam with his love for you, his smile just the same.

“And maybe dessert?”

a/n: i promise not all of these will be established relationships... so, how are we liking this so far? i just love alternative universe possibilities and imagining spencer in different professions and or walks of life!

[pedge-stuff]

island time (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

tumblr took this down for sexual content, so naturally, I added more before I re-uploaded.

thanks, as always, for everything.

obligatory warning: light smut, allusions to oral

summary: you bear witness to the annual trip, and... are witnessed bare.

——————————————————————————

The first year, you don’t go. You’ve only been dating four months— trip was already half-planned, and you don’t feel established enough to intrude. Afraid to insert yourself, though P offered several times. 

You forget about it, til the planning starts up again. Get a little shy about it, dodge schedule questions at a group dinner. Think on it, overthink it, think maybe he’ll forget it even came up. He asks you again, looking up from his kindle in bed, reading glasses pushed low on his nose. 

So you find yourself on an island, in a villa, by the water. 

It's not as awkward as you were worried it'd be— you know these people better than you think you do. More the concept of traveling with friends, as a Capital-A Adult, that had you worried. There is a social etiquette that you only kinda understand. 

The villa is really a series of small, vaguely connected little cabins. Private rooms with sandy-stone walkways in-between, a kitchen and lounge-type space at the center. Pool and hot tub outside, private beach access. 

Travel had stolen most of the day; JFK to Nassau first thing, only slightly hampered by post-holiday congestion, and then a skipper to the more secluded island. (Not private, but you'd yet to see another person around.) 

And now, here you are— laying face down on possibly the crispest, cleanest white sheets you've ever seen. In your underwear, lest you touch the bed with the clothes that also touched the terminal seats of JFK. 

Pedro is still moving around, passing between the bedroom and bathroom, setting things out from his suitcase. He is methodical about travel and hotel rooms, which makes sense for a man who spends a generous amount of time on the road. 

(You are ignoring, at present, the difference in sizes between your suitcases: yours a carry-on, his a checked. Yours with a return ticked to JFK, his to LAX. It has left a bitter pit in your stomach, as the holidays have wound down— the inevitability of your separation, despite the promise of this trip beforehand. On the morning of the 2nd, you will separate for a full three months.) 

Hands on your shoulders pulls you out of your brief misery. You are flipped— quite ruthlessly, you think— over onto your back. Above you, Pedro grins. Leans down, giving you only a chaste peck. 

"Do you want your toiletries in the bathroom?" He is all business, though he still hovers. 

"I want you to take off your nasty airport pants and come here," you gripe. He kisses you again, warmer this time, and you seize your opportunity to latch an arm around his middle, pulling him onto you. (You groan, dramatically, though you always enjoy the firm weight of him. Like a heated, weighted blanket.) 

It is hot, late into the afternoon. Even in your underwear, you feel kinda sticky in the humidity. The salt air hangs thick around you.

Pedro slowly shucks off his shirt, and shimmies out of the jeans he insisted on flying in. Only then does he fully commit, rolling backwards into the middle of the bed. He's still rocking a light farmers tan from LA last month, golden biceps attached to pale shoulders.

The urge overtakes you before you can fully process what you're doing. You sink your teeth lightly into the arm closest to you.

"Hey!"

"Mm." A kiss is pressed to the little indent, before you pillow your cheek against it. "Wanna take a little piece of you with me."

The separation— that was the urge. The distant feeling of impending sadness, clashing behind your collarbone against a deep swell of affection.

"Baby," he whispers. Warm lips and bristled whispers brush your forehead.

"Sorry. No sad vacation vibes."

He reaches over, tipping your chin until your lips meet. Holds you there, locked together, and breathes you in for a few long beats before the kiss deepens.

Your turn to be on top; breaking the kiss to prop up on one elbow, splaying your other hand on his waist as you lay kisses to his exposed side. It is languid, easy. Pedro uses your hip to pull you up, closer, so he can redirect your mouth to his for another kiss. You keep shifting, bracing your hands on either side to fully rest on top of him, lightly, joined at the stomach and the mouth. 

Mindlessly, rote motion, you roll your hips down. Boxer-on-brief friction. The skin of his chest is salty with sweat and ocean air as you begin to kiss a trail from the corner of his mouth. Spend a moment at the heart-shaped patch in his beard you've grown fond of. A low moan rumbles from Pedro's chest as you bite gently at the hollow of his throat.

"This a thing now?" He says, breathlessly. His hands brace your chest, palms spread across the top of your ribcage. Brush your sides, lightly, where he knows you are sensitive. You exhale sharply into a kiss on his stomach. Move downwards, still. Brush your nose against the faint trail of hair below his navel, lick a small stripe on his belly.

Fingers lace themselves into your hair as you position yourself downwards. Pedro's leg shifts until you are bracketed between his knees, which are splayed open. Just for you.

The moment you tug on the elastic waistband, the moment is shattered.

"Y'all better be decent." Sarah enters abruptly from the glass doors that face the beach, without knocking. You hardly have time to feel embarrassed, sitting up and off of him as fast as possible; hands and lips burning with the sudden loss of contact.

"You've seen me in less," Pedro points out, chest heaving slightly. No effort is made to conceal the evident tent in his boxers.

"Fair point. We started drinking a half hour ago. Be horny later." He flips her the bird, and she flips it back. 

Tipping backwards, you land back beside Pedro on the bed. Stare at the ceiling— or rather, thatched roofing— while your mind slowly buffers. Too hot and bothered to register the inevitable shame of being caught like a pair of teenagers.

"Do you..."

A large hand reaches over, palming gently between your thighs.

"They can wait."

[infinitywrites]

I Didn't Expect You Part 2 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 1) (Masterlist) (Part 3)

gif credit @madscline

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups whiles Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears, Laurel/Cleveland, Susannah is sick, otherwise lots of fluff in this one

word count: 4,434

___________________________________________

I just wanna know you better,

know you better, know you better now

All I know since yesterday is

Everything has changed

After I snuck in a power nap after unpacking with Belly, I headed down to the kitchen to check on the plan for dinner. I'd always looked forward to visiting Cousin's to taste Susannah's Pinterest recipe of the month. I shouldn't have been surprised to see Jeremiah at the stove stirring something aromatic, warming the kitchen up. "Well, look who's taken up the mantle of vacation cook." I teased and patted his back lightly after a quick peek over his shoulder at the sauce simmering.

"Not just vacation cook, either. Just wait, I've gotten a lot better in a year." Jere smiled through his intense focus and turned his head towards Laurel sitting at the island. "I'm ready for the carrots now, Laur."

As she dumped the shredded carrots into the sauce, she assured me when I sent a raised brow her way, "Don't worry, I'm just helping with prep. Cleveland is actually looking forward to impressing you all with his culinary skills so Jeremiah can actually enjoy his summer."

Jeremiah never took his eyes off the pot, "I told you, I'm into this now. Maybe I'm destined to be a famous chef!"

"You just had to add 'famous' in there, didn't you." Conrad turned the corner into the kitchen and flicked his brother in the ear. Jeremiah smacked his hand away as they both snorted a laugh.

"What can I say? I dream big!"

My hands found my hips without even noticing, "I'm really proud of you, Jere. It smells incredible. No thanks to Conrad." I shot my glare directly at him when his name left my lips.

He'd lifted two grocery bags onto the counter by the sink and was starting to unload vegetables when he scoffed. "Hey! I went all the way to the farmer's market to get stuff for the salad, if you must know. Actually make yourself useful and chop these." He tossed me a cucumber and a pepper before I could tell him that's the exact reason I came down in the first place. I got distracted by my own thoughts when he threw a big tomato that should have splattered all over the floor if not for sheer dumb luck. Conrad paused and mimicked throwing a radish bunch before I stared him down mouthing 'don't you dare'. When he finished washing the lettuce, he slid next to me at the island and pulled out the salad spinner.

Luckily there weren't any more shenanigans as we all worked together to finish the pasta, salad and fresh garlic baguette that Jeremiah swore was an elevated form of garlic bread he'd learned about from Top Chef. Conrad pointed out that he was surprised he picked anything useful up while watching Padma Lakshmi. Eventually Belly and Steven joined as a clean up crew, while Laurel set the table just like Susannah used to have it done up. Cleveland complimented Jeremiah's hard work and thanked Conrad for the quick surfing lesson before he'd tested his limits that afternoon. When everything was ready, Laurel went to get Susannah and the room was in a standstill. The anticipation was suffocating. It wasn't until Belly reached out and grabbed my hand that I realized I was holding my breath.

Susannah walked slowly, supported gently by her elbows by Laurel, with her signature bright grin for everyone in the room. She looked both better and worse than I'd seen her last. It was incredible what a sunny disposition could do and Susannah was the best at it seconded only by Jeremiah, with her sparkling blue eyes. The build up released into an awkward tension for exactly three seconds before Susannah sighed, "I can't believe you guys let me sleep all the way until dinner. Who's sneaky idea was that?" Her eyes scanned the room while Laurel chuckled by her side.

"That was all big brother over here, Mom. We wanted to surprise you!" Jeremiah smacked his brother in the chest as Conrad hung his head waiting for his mother's reaction.

"We had everything under control, Mom." He said and I glanced his way, taking in the new information until Conrad caught my eye and I looked back at Susannah in a flash. I kinda felt bad for giving him shit after hearing that.

"Of course you did, sweet boy, but I'm feeling good and next time I want a chance to order everyone around the kitchen." Laurel sat Susannah down at the head of the table while Jeremiah got to work fixing her a plate.

Cleveland, Conrad and Steven grabbed the various serving dishes and took their seats while I heard Steven yell back, "You got it, Susannah. I'm not going the whole summer without your jambalaya."

Dinner went smoothly after that. Susannah's spirit was as full as her energy when she focused on catching up with everyone around the table. Everyone complimented Jeremiah's culinary progress and Cleveland joined him in plans to treat everyone to a weekend feast before we all parted ways. Steven even talked a little bit about his breakup with Shayla and I reached over to give his hand a quick squeeze when his mouth turned down at the corners. Laurel got quiet before she admitted she couldn't believe how grown up Steven had gotten all of a sudden. The mood lightened a bit when he rolled his eyes and teased her for making his breakup about her empty nest syndrome.

Steven had been my best friend as long as I'd been staying at Cousin's over the past eight summers or so. Mom said it gave me a necessary break from the monotony of her condition and when Auntie Laur split from Uncle John, she said they needed me more than she did. Steven's breakup with Shayla happened before Prom at least and he seemed more angry than hurt after he talked to her the last time. Long distance was hard and she wasn't planning on coming back before Steven was headed to Princeton anyway. It was what was best for both of them and he knew it too. I tried to lift his mood after he got his Princeton acceptance a few weeks later by reminding him that he would have hated being tied down freshman year. Now he could charm his way around campus all he wanted without feeling a lick of guilt. This got the first smile out of him I'd seen since his Prom photos. He'd made the most of that night at least.

Jeremiah seemed to have the same idea and said, "This is exactly what you want though, Steve-O. No strings. No commitments. Focus on school…and Jersey girls." He really wasn't as slick as he thought when he put a hand up to direct the last part away from the parents. Conrad and Steven still shrugged and chuckled amongst themselves like he'd had a point.

"All right. New topic. I know you're dying to ask Y/N about Stanford and this is your moment." Laurel waved her hand to both shut Jeremiah up and encourage Susannah at the same time.

She put her hands down on the table for emphasis as her gaze narrowed in on me, "I can't believe you're going to Stanford in the fall. It's so exciting!"

"I'm glad you approve." I couldn't help but let the smile stretch my face at her joy.

"Approval, are you kidding? My little California twin." Susannah winked in my direction and I could have sworn I saw Conrad watching the scene play out.

"You can take the girl out of Cali but you can't take the Cali out of the girl." Laurel sing-songed as she finished her glass of wine.

"Why you gotta be so lame about it, Laur?" Susannah's shoulders dropped and she sent an exasperated look to her lifelong friend.

When Susannah got like this it always made us laugh and this time it was no different. Sometimes the only adult in the room was Laurel so at least she had Cleveland around, who was just listening attentively and taking in the group dynamics.

Laurel looked shocked for a second and cut back, "You're the one who–All right," and huffed in defeat before she turned back to me. "I'm excited for you too, Y/N. Beck's right, a change of scenery and a fresh start is an incredible opportunity at your age wherever you go."

Jeremiah was looking at Conrad when he said, "Summer everyday sounds pretty good to me," and punched his brother's arm which made me furrow my brow in confusion.

Susannah glanced their way with a mischievous look, "You know, I always told Conrad he'd find himself in the West coast."

Conrad looked at them both,"Subtle, mom."

"Well, if you aren't going to tell them–"

My jaw must have been on the floor as I gaped at him. "Wait, you're–"

"I'm waiting on late admission offers. Mom convinced me to apply over Christmas break." He shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal but everyone knew the meltdown I'd had at the end of last summer trying to perfect my Stanford application.

Belly added with a teasing tone, "He made me proofread his essay like five times."

"Yeah, me too," Cleveland pointed at him and shook his head.

"OhmiGod, did everyone know but me? The person already going?" Steven looked scared as he swore he didn't so I looked around the table in disbelief and finally landed on Belly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't look at me! I told him to tell you." Belly raised her palms in surrender.

My eyes went back to Conrad who's smile just grew, "It's a big campus. We don't have to see each other." He shrugged again and dove into his second helping of pasta.

My face dropped as I rolled my eyes and swore to ignore him for the rest of the night. Susannah sighed and caught my eye, "Don't listen to him, Y/N. He's terrified of moving so far away from his mommy–"

"Hey!" Conrad tried to interrupt but he was laughing almost immediately when he heard Steven and Jeremiah break.

Susannah continued despite his protest and the howling in the background, "so I'm putting you in charge of him. I wanna see you both back at Christmas with the best tans of your life."

Jeremiah was dying and hitting his brother in the chest, "Okay, but is she wrong though?"

"Fuck you, bro. You still live with her!"

Jeremiah sobered long enough to utter, "And I cherish every second." He blew his mother a kiss like the charmer he always was and Susannah smiled stretched a little further.

When the boys finally settled down, it was time for dessert that Conrad had picked up from the market and snuck into the fridge without my knowledge at least. Strawberry shortcake; one of Susannah's favourites and we all assured her that while it was decadent, it still wasn't as good as her recipe. After the cake was polished off, I ran upstairs to slip into my swimsuit and coverup dress in case I felt like a dip in the pool once the food settled. A few of us tried to offer our help to Cleveland but he insisted that he had a clean up ritual he really enjoyed as long as we gave him the space to do so. He said it was a thank you to everyone for the meal and the invitation.

Conrad came up behind him and patted him on the chest, "I was just an errand boy and didn't know you were coming so have at it, boss!" And exited quickly out the backdoor, already pulling a joint out of his pocket.

Steven's eyes followed him even as Jeremiah was trying to make plans to head down to the beach for the bonfire. "Uh, yeah man. I'm down. Gimme a second to change and I'll meet you out front." Steven nodded in his direction as Jeremiah agreed and headed for the door.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite and everything but I no longer have the energy or the patience for bonfire party bullshit." I teased in Steven's direction, who was still staring out the backdoor.

When he finally looked my way again, he looked sheepish, "Yeah, yeah. I was gonna invite you but I figured as much. It was never really your scene."

"You know me well. Have fun though, seriously." I was about to walk away when Steven asked me to wait.

"Hey, do you think you could talk to Conrad?"

There's nothing he could have said that would have shocked me less. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird but…he's been off since we got here and Jere said longer. I don't know if it's Belly or just Susannah stuff but…"

"Did you hear him at dinner? What makes you think he wants to talk to me?"

Steven gives me a look like it's the stupidest thing I could have asked him so I concede. "Okay, whatever. Other than my family shit."

"You've always been the person who makes me feel better when…-like with Shayla. I think, no, I know he needs some of that right now." Steven always had the most effective puppy dog eyes. I was too weak to resist.

"I guess…I can try." I moved my gaze to a dark figure sat by the pool and started mentally preparing myself.

He started to back away but wouldn't take his eyes off me until he saw me heading outside. "Yes! You're amazing. I owe you, for sure."

I spat over my shoulder, "You think?"

"Okay, now. Before Jere leaves without me."

"Jeez, I'm going." Steven watched as I opened the sliding door and mouthed his thank you before jogging back upstairs to get ready for the bonfire.

The sun was almost down and the pool lights lit up the yard as the smoke wafted from the shadowed figure sitting on the edge. I rolled my eyes at my own apprehension and took a seat beside him before I lost my nerve entirely. The water was just cool enough to make the summer heat bearable for more than a few minutes.

"What's up?" He didn't look my way, occupied with his ritual.

I decided to start casually and try to work up to the kind of talk Steven was expecting. I still wasn't convinced that Conrad would be open to talking at all let alone to me. "Steven and Jere are headed to the bonfire soon. I wasn't sure if they told you."

He nodded. "You're not going?"

"No, the day was long enough. I came out here to stop myself from falling asleep on the couch." I kicked my feet in the water and debated splashing him.

"So much for Belly's power naps." He chuckled and finally glanced in my direction.

"Whatever, they work for her but I'm the one who drove us here." I shrugged.

There was a beat of silence before I pressed again. "What about you? Why aren't you going?"

"Same as you. Tired."

I tried not to let myself get too frustrated by his lack of response. It was weird behaviour from him though, "Hm."

That caught his attention again, "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, we know the bonfire was never my scene but you always went."

"And now I've accepted that it's not my scene either." There was an edge to his voice that told me to drop it.

"Fair enough… I was uh, I was gonna swim." I probably should have jumped in and splashed the shit out of him but there was an uneasiness that got to me.

"Okay. Don't mind me."

I stripped down to my one piece and kicked my dress and sandals a few feet away before driving in. The water really was the perfect temperature to be refreshing after the heat and stress of a long day. It felt good to stretch my limbs and work the muscles that no doubt were starting to cramp from driving for hours and falling asleep in an awkward position. Everytime I looked up, Conrad's eyes were on me and I struggled between meeting them for a few seconds before I realized he wouldn't be the first to look away. Belly had told me once that Conrad was confident in a way she'd never seen before. Shameless even, when he looked at her sometimes and she worried she'd never feel butterflies like that again. That same look intimidated other guys and coined him 'the mysterious type' around the Cousin's beach crowd. Belly said as she grew up, she'd hold his gaze longer and longer to test her theory and never saw him break concentration before her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. I had no intention of testing said theory and redirected my breaststroke in the opposite direction.

His joint getting smaller was the only real indicator that time was passing at all. The smell was annoying, of course, but it seemed to be wafting above me so I could admire the look of it dissipating into nothing instead. It was probably half an hour later, Conrad still perched on the pool's edge, when I climbed up the ladder, towelled off and sat back down beside him.

I looked at him, blowing smoke out over the pool water again, "Okay seriously, why didn't you tell me?"

He wouldn't look at me now, like he was sick of the sight but he still knew what I meant. "Do you own the school now?"

It didn't take much to deadpan my response. "You're funny."

He tried again. "So what? We tell each other things now?"

"When they directly impact each other's lives? Sure we do." I decided to let him get out whatever snark he needed before I got a real answer. This wouldn't turn into another stupid fight; we were too old for that shit now.

He narrowed his eyes in my direction. "You know I don't owe you anything just because we could be at the same school and living in the same state, right?"

And all of a sudden the plan went out the window and Steven would just have to accept that I tried and failed. "Okay, Conrad…" I got up to leave and went to bring my things inside.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I–I dunno why I'm being such a dick."

I paused with an armful and hadn't decided yet if I wanted to listen to him. "Probably because you're so good at it."

"Okay, I'm sorry. Honestly. Belly was right, I should have told you when I applied. I just…I thought it might piss you off."

That made me turn to look his way, his head hung between his shoulders and his face lit up light blue and sullen as ever. "Since when do you care if you piss me off?"

"Now! Now, I do. With this. I didn't want you to think I was encroaching on your thing or following you or something. My mom's been talking to me about going to Cali since the beginning of high school but I never really thought–not with everything that happened."

The mask seemed to be gone now and that was the only reason I sighed and sat back down. Maybe Steven was right; maybe Conrad wanted to talk in his Conrad way. "I didn't think you were following me. Or encroaching. I just didn't expect you to wanna leave right now so I was even more surprised to hear it at all."

"I don't but…" It was like he was losing his words or thoughts halfway into getting them out. Maybe it was the weed going to his head. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Of course we would see each other at school. You know, if you want to. It's nice to know we wouldn't have to figure everything out alone there, right? It's exciting." He sounded sincere until he mocked the excitement.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…and Jere's right too. I'm worried about being so far away from Mom."

"She seems really excited for you. You're giving her what she wants, you know."

"I know, I'm just used to being an hour away at Brown and that was bad enough. Let alone six and that's just the flight." He got worked up by the thought alone and my heart clenched in my chest for him. I knew that feeling. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Conrad took a moment to collect his thoughts before he let out a deep breath. "You've come here every summer for years and you're away from your mom for so long. How do you…?"

I audibly sighed and started chuckling at myself before I could stop it, "Is it a cop out if I say practice? No, that's partly true. It gets easier and it helps that I know my dad is dedicated to taking care of her. And when I'm there there's nothing I can really do to help. I think that's the worst part actually. Sorry, I–"

"No, I asked."

I looked at him then and it was one of the few times I knew he was really listening to me. "A few years ago, I think I was 13, I begged my mom to let me stay home that summer. It was really bad for a little bit before and I just thought, what if I miss it? What if I'm not there? She said I was grasping for control I never really had. I was trying to pause my life for something inevitable. And not only was that not fair to myself but it wasn't fair to her either."

His eyes fell as he nodded and then flashed a small smile, "The moms must be conspiring behind our backs because that sounds suspiciously like what Mama Beck Fisher said about Stanford. Do the thing that scares you. That's how you really live."

I laughed a little at the sentiment. "Sounds like you got a cooler version at least."

"It's not like I didn't know about your mom but…I don't think I ever realized–"

"It's okay, Conrad." I shook my head, wanting to avoid that line of thought.

"You just seem so together all the time." I could feel his direct gaze when he said it even when I wanted to laugh in his face.

"I'm not, I just…when it comes to Susannah I feel like I've done this before. Been here. The worst fucking kind of familiarity. I don't even know what that has to do with anything, I just think I don't feel it yet. Not really. God, does that make me horrible?"

Conrad immediately shook his head in reassurance as I took a steading breath. "No. I don't think so, anyway. I think it'll catch up to you but…would you promise you'll tell me if– if you wanna to talk about it ever? You know if Steve-O or Belly aren't around. I dunno, maybe it'd help me to be there for someone else, you know?"

I turned my head to gape at him for the second time that night but he wasn't looking back at me this time. He was inhaling the smoke and blowing it over the pool again like he'd been doing for over an hour now. "Yeah sure."

He nodded once and put it out on the concrete and then away in his pocket before he lifted himself up.

I had to ask before he walked away, "Hey, Con?" I didn't continue until he turned a bit to acknowledge me. "Stanford is what you want too, right? It's not just for Susannah?"

A smile grew across his face, "You think I would've put myself through that brutal application process if I didn't?"

I coughed a laugh at his quick mood change, "That's right. I forgot about those ten proofreads."

He shook his head in amusement, "Exaggeration. Besides, I might as well follow my built-in babysitter."

"Fucking hell…" I winced as my head hung between my shoulders this time.

"Can't take it back now! Mama's boy like me, I'll never make it on my own!"

"I never agreed to that!" I said louder than I meant to in my frustration. It had been dark for a while even though I had no idea what time it was. "Would you keep it down?!?"

Conrad opened the sliding door and scolded, "Shh Y/N, the neighbours!"

I was left with the usual exasperation that was signature oldest Fisher and everything felt right in the world again. Well kinda. It should satisfy Steven anyway and I could mark it off as my good deed of the week. I looked out over the view and thought about the strange connection you had with the Fishers now. My mom had had MS for as long as I could remember and the constant state of grief in my house growing up was as normal as anything else in my life. Everyday was clouded with some difficulty, old or new, and the only real reprieve was summer with my cousins at Susannah's beach house. I could be a different person there who no one really knew outside my family, Fishers included. I'd even heard the whispers of my quiet, closed off nature and it always put a smirk on my face. It was like a fresh start at the end of every school year even if I didn't change at all. I could pretend for a few months that I was a normal girl who's biggest problem was my baby cousin's unrequited crush on an unattainable older jock, my sad lack of crush to obsess over instead and my best friend's tendency to get himself into trouble without ever trying.

A yawn pulled me from my thoughts and I gathered my things and climbed the stairs towards the quiet upstairs. I heard the shower running but didn't think anything of it as I passed the bathroom until the door swung open and the yellow light hit my peripheral vision. I looked right at Conrad walking across the hall to his room. He was noticeably wet-skinned and sauntering in a pair of boxers. The moment lasted a second before my eyes caught his trailing down and then back up to my eyes as he ruffled his wet hair with a towel. And then the door was shut and I turned away and shook my head to rattle my brain awake enough to make it to my bed in one piece. There was no counting for the ways in which the first night at Cousin's beach could mess with my head.

Next

___________________________________________

author's note: I'm blown away by the response and hope this next chapter lived up to expectations! Thank you so much for the support 🩵💙💚💛. I meant to get into the 4th of July party in this part but it got away from me so that's up next! Do the changes make sense? Y/N's backstory? More explanation is coming but please let me know if anything is too confusing to follow. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @fandom-addict404

[olsenmyolsen]

Chapter Ten: Pie Baking While Hungover

The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)

Master list . Tag list: @xenaizogie

Summary: Wanda talks to Kate about her feelings before she talks to Natasha. But why is Natasha packing her bag?

Word Count: 3.1K

Content: Hurt Natasha, Hurt Wanda, Feelings, Mentions of Yelena, Kissing

The sun shined brightly on Wanda as she exited Natasha's place on the farm.

She put her left hand over her face to cover her eyes. Way out in the distance, she saw Natasha speaking with Erik while riding the new horse Butterball.

Immediately, Wanda felt a pit grow in her stomach.

Yet, she trekked on and started walking in Natsaha's direction, except as she closed the distance, she slowed down in front of her parent's house. Parked in the dirt next to Natasha's bike was an expensive-looking black car.

A car that should not be here.

It was Kate Bishop's. This was the car Natasha drove Wanda home in last night.

Wanda darted her green orbs from the black car to Natasha. The redhead locked eyes with Wanda for a second before turning away.

Wanda's slim smile was gone just as quick.

A reminder that she yelled at an undeserving Natasha last night.

Wanda took a few steps towards Natasha again before she froze and turned around. Her body and mind wanted two different things, and yet she couldn't commit to either.

So Wanda walked through the open door to her parent's house. Her home. "Mama?" Wanda called out as she heard the sound of talking in the kitchen. "In here, meine Tochter." (my daughter)

Wanda understood little German, but her father and mother still used it occasionally. Along with Sokovian from their short time there.

Wanda walked further into the house before stopping in the doorway to the kitchen. Kate was preparing food with Wanda's mother. "Oh, honey!" Magda rounded the kitchen island and raised her hands to her daughter's face. Holding it with love and care.

Wanda looked towards Kate, who looked down at the ingredients in front of her before turning around. Giving them as much privacy as possible.

"Are you feeling better?" Wanda tilted her head slightly. Wondering how much her mother knew. "Natasha mentioned you weren't feeling well," Magda said it as her hands left her daughter's face with a soft but knowing look.

Wanda closed her eyes and thought before opening them and giving her mom a knowing look back. "Verletzt." (Hurt) She replied. Magda gave her daughter a frown before leaning in and hugging her.

"We can talk later." Wanda nodded to her mother's words before clearing her throat. "What are you doing, Mama?" Wanda asked as Magda let her go and turned around. "Kate is helping me make pies with our early harvest."

Kate, hearing her name, perked up and turned back around.

Wanda's eyes caught the silver chain that dipped behind Kate's apron—another reminder.

"Do you want help?" Wanda nervously asked. Magda looked up with flour on her hands. "Only if you want, dear." Wanda's face turned to Kate as Magda turned her back to the two.

Kate made a join us gesture with her head. Wanda nodded back ever so slightly and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

Wanda pulled out a freshly baked pie from the oven two hours later. "Oh my gosh, I have to get a picture of this!" Wanda squealed as she threw off the oven mitt and reached for her phone.

Kate couldn't keep track of how many pictures Wanda took.

"It looks great, Wanda." Magda gave her daughter a side hug as she wore a proud smile. "Thanks, Mama," Wanda said quietly as her mom backed away and removed her apron. "We'll let it cool, and it'll be for dessert tonight. So no touching girls!" Magda gave a playful glare before glancing out the window at Erik and Natasha. "I'm going to let your father know not to eat yet, or so help me!"

Kate laughed as Wanda's mother went out the backdoor from the kitchen.

It was now just Wanda and Kate, and the awkward silence was suffocating. "I-.." Wanda articulated as she moved away from the oven and took off her apron as well. Kate kept hers on. She liked it. "I don't mean to sound rude..."

"But?" Kate watched as Wanda took a seat at the dining room table. Kate slowly followed suit. "But..." Wanda paused. "What are you still doing here?"

Kate answered honestly and without hesitation. "Natasha asked me to stay."

Ouch.

"Oh," Wanda said as Kate looked at her. "Nice to see you are doing better," Kate said as she leaned back into the wooden chair. She was being nice and didn't want to pressure Wanda into talking about anything she didn't want to talk about. "Thanks." Wanda swallowed her mixed feelings at the moment and looked down at the hardwood floors.

Wanda lifted her gaze once more. "Thank you for helping me last night." Kate slightly smirked. "You were being kind to someone who probably didn't deserve it," Wanda said before letting out a breath and leaning back in her chair. "I... I don't know what Natasha told you, but I said some pretty regrettable things."

Kate nodded. "So you remember?" Kate questioned. Wanda nodded back. "It all came back to me this morning." A pause. "I shouldn't have assumed anything about you and Natasha. That was dumb of me." Wanda spoke fast and felt embarrassed as her mind replayed the shouting match she had with Natasha.

"We all do dumb things every once in a while," Kate said with forgiveness. "Also, for the record, I did have fun with you and your friends last night. That Darcy is hilarious." Wanda smiled. "Yeah, she's great."

Silence slowly built up again before Kate broke it.

"Just so you know, whatever you say stays between us." Wanda looked over Kate's sharp face. "In case you wanted to talk about Natasha..." Wanda slightly leaned forward in her chair and rested her hands on the table. "No pressure," Kate said with a smile before getting up and taking off the borrowed apron, placing it on a hook by the backdoor.

Wanda watched as Kate turned back around. Kate's hands were in her hair as she was putting it up into a ponytail.

It suited her.

Wanda's eyes dipped down to the silver.

"Can I ask you something?" Wanda spoke to Kate, who nodded as she stood near the dining room table. "It's not about Natasha." She warned Kate. "Okay." Kate was intrigued as she pulled out a different chair and sat down, smiling.

Wanda took a moment to figure out her words. "Wh-what was Yelena like?" She gradually asked. Kate's demeanor shifted as she looked away.

Kate thought about the love of her life every day.

Kate held her hands together and rubbed one thumb over the other. "Sh-she was one of a kind." Kate softened as she smiled wide. Her eyes looking off into the distance. "Yelena had a way of making everyone in the room disappear when she looked at you. She made you feel seen. And God, her voice..."

Wanda smiled and thought of another person who had a similar effect. Kate looked at Wanda and knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Yelena was rigid but kind. Sometimes too stupid for her own good." Kate chuckled as she remembered something. "Natasha would kill me if she heard me telling this." Wanda's pearly whites came out. "There was this time..." Kate sniffled as she laughed.

Wanda noticed and slightly tilted her head but listened.

"This time when our asshole of a drill instructor, Zemo, was trying to separate the strong from the soft." Kate rolled her eyes. "The drill instructor pulled out a grenade and threw it into the middle of us, no warning, no pin."

Wanda quietly gasped.

"I was standing next to Yelena. And I didn't know her at the time, ya know, we were all new and in basic training." Kate pauses as she clears her throat. "The grenade hits the grass near my feet, and before I can even think about my next move, I get pushed several feet away. I end up tumbling and falling on my ass. But when I look up, Yelena is on top of the grenade." Kate exhales. "It didn't go off. It was a dummy."

Wanda swallows as she can barely believe the story.

"Did the instructor know?" She asks. Kate shrugs. "Yelled at us that it would've been a teaching moment regardless and moved on." Kate pauses. "They weren't stationed at that base long after that."

"Yelena pushed you," Wanda states. Kate nods. "After the drill instructor chewed us out, Yelena, this beautiful brute of a blonde, came over to me and looked down. She stuck out her hand and said, "Isn't a pretty girl like you gonna thank me?" It was cheesy and stupid, but I melted, and Yelena had me from that moment on."

Kate smiled as she wiped a stray tear away. Wanda went to say something, but Kate stopped her. "It's alright," Kate said. "She still has me."

Wanda's heart ached for Kate and couldn't imagine the pure heartbreak Kate and Natasha have had to endure. On top of that, Wanda once again remembered the moment she had screamed at Natasha last night.

God, she was a drunk idiot.

Kate sniffled as Wanda broke the silence building on this new friendship. "I like Natasha..." Wanda finally uttered those words.

Kate smiled and shook her head. "Yeah, no shit." She chuckled, making Wanda blush with mild embarrassment. Kate straightened up and looked at Wanda directly. "You're going have to talk to her."

The brunette agreed. "Yeah, but-" Wanda's sentence died as Wanda's parents came in through the backdoor.

Magda fanned herself as Erik took his hat off and smelled the freshly baked dessert in the air. "I can't believe you work in that heat," Magda said dramatically as she grabbed water from the fridge. Her eyes glancing over to Wanda and Kate.

Kate looked over at Wanda before standing up and facing Magda and Erik. "I must thank you again for letting me stay over." Magada waved her off. Kate laughed. "Before I leave, I was wondering if it'd be alright if I showered?" Magda quickly nodded. "Of course! Our home is always open. First door on the left upstairs." Kate smiled as Erik agreed with his wife.

Kate thanked them and turned to pass Wanda. "She's alone. Go to her." She whispered before heading upstairs. Wanda heard the words and looked towards her father, who was cooling off. "Papa, where is Natasha? Is she with Butterball or the cattle?"

Magda gave a look at Wanda's lack of subtly in the moment.

Erik shook his head, unaware of everything going on around him. "She woke up early and got everything taken care of. So, I think she went to pack."

"P-pack?" Wanda asked as her anxiety began to spike.

Erik nodded as Magda came and wrapped an arm around his back. "Hi, Detka." He turned and said to his wife before the next thing he heard was the front door closing.

Wanda ran like hell to the tiny house. This definitely wasn't helping her hangover, but right now, she didn't care.

An out of breath Wanda stopped on the small steps to Natasha's. She thought about barging right in but decided against it as she knocked- no pounded on the door.

Natasha rapidly opened the door and greeted Wanda with worried eyes before they faded and changed to ones of gloom. "Wanda..." Natasha said as she held onto the door.

Wanda caught her breath and stared at Natasha's beauty. Natasha was doing the same as well before they both ended up in the exact place, each other's eyes. "You're leaving?" Wanda's lips pouted as she spoke.

Natasha saw the honest sadness on Wanda's face.

"I'm going away for the weekend."

"Where?" Wanda asked, forcing Natasha to sigh. She was getting sucked in, and she couldn't do that right now. "Wanda... what do you want?"

Wanda heard the tone and took a second.

"Can I come in?" She kindly asked. Everything was telling Natasha no, but she opened the door wider, allowing Wanda to walk in.

Wanda ran a hand through her hair as she stood in the room where she had woken up. She kept her back to Natasha until she heard the door click close.

Wanda was anxious and afraid.

She turned around as Natasha stayed at the door—distance between them. Wanda swallowed. "I k-know there aren't enough words for how I acted last night but I want you to know I am sorry." Wanda kept darting her eyes as she spoke.

Natasha stayed quiet before she walked away from the door to her bag on the bed. She resumed packing. "So you remember everything from last night?"

Wanda wanted to lie but couldn't.

"Yes."

Natasha stopped packing and turned her head to Wanda. "I appreciate the apology, but you didn't have to." Wanda kept her green eyes forward. "I just hope you know how wrong your words were."

Wanda nods. "I do." She pauses. "You asked me if I wanted you to leave me last night, but I told you to stay." Wanda walked closer to Natasha. The redhead's breath froze. Wanda's right hand landed on Romanoff's bag. "Please stay," Wanda begged.

Natasha watched her own hand move closer to Wanda's until their fingers touched. Both fighting the itch for more.

Natasha drug her eyes to Wanda's face.

"We both don't know what we want..." Natasha said as she pulled her hand back. Natasha still remembers the previous night and how Wanda cried as she was fighting her own feelings.

Natasha had been fighting them since Wanda stepped out of that Jeep about two weeks ago.

Wanda remained quiet.

"I'm going to Kate's," Natasha said as she turned and grabbed a shirt Wanda gave her, stuffing it into her bag.

"Why?" Wanda asked. Natasha stopped packing again and turned to face Wanda. She was feeling overwhelmed. "Because..." Natasha took a breath. "Because I shouldn't even want you! I came here for a job and housing and for the first time in a long time to do something for myself." Natasha swallows as she steps closer to Wanda.

She raises her hands up to Wanda's arms and holds her. The roughness of her fingertips run over the smoothness of Wanda.

Wanda loves Natasha's touch.

"And all I can think about is you. I didn't want to, but I can't stop." Wanda's body grows warm as she looks from Natasha's words to her eyes. "It's all you," Natasha says as Wanda leans closer.

Natasha's hands fall from Wanda's arms to her sides. Wanda places her hands on Natasha's hips.

The redhead shudders.

"Wanda..." Natasha's eyes fall from Wanda's eyes to her lips and back. She leans in closer.

"We can't." Wanda looks up as Natasha doesn't move back. "I know what I want, Nat."

Natasha slightly smirks at the nickname before shaking her head and pulling back. Much to both their disappointments. "You gave me reasons why I shouldn't be with you last night."

Wanda feels like this is a low blow and a false reason.

"Natasha, I was drunk," Wanda says as Natasha removes her hands from the brunette.

"Exactly. You were drunk-"

"But I'm not now! I know what I want now!" Wanda shouts.

Natasha swallows a lump in her throat.

"But you still had those thoughts! The audacity to say those things. I mean fuck Wanda, it's not like they were downright awful, but they still hurt." Natasha grows faint. "They hurt because it left me confused."

"Confused?" Wanda quietly speaks up.

"Confused about what we are."

Silence.

Wanda remembers Natasha asking that very thing before she threw up last night. Wanda takes another small step and reaches for Natasha's right hand. Taking it into her own and forcing the redhead, who sniffles, to look at her.

"I think about you a lot. More than a lot." Wanda chuckles a little bit. "I'm sorry again for what I said, but you don't have to run or try to protect yourself. I'm here."

Wanda licks her lips.

"I like you, Natasha."

Natasha listens to the words, and yeah, she knows what packing a bag looks like. But she's not running, she's giving herself time and space to really think about what kind of future she wants.

But is is right? Is it wrong? To fast? To slow?

She'd be lying if she said that thinking about the future wasn't scary because she doesn't know what she'd do if one day Wanda wasn't with her.

But that's the thing about taking a risk. Sometimes, you just have to jump on that grenade.

Natasha looked over Wanda's face before removing her hand from Wanda's. Wanda hated it and tried to stop Natasha from doing it, but just before she could speak up, Natasha's hands found themselves on Wanda's cheeks.

In an instant, Natasha pulled Wanda in and planted her tender lips onto Wanda's pink ones.

It was delicate and better than either one of them could've imagined. Wanda tasted like cherries, and God, did Natasha love cherries.

One kiss turned into Wanda's hands, finding Natasha's hips and pulling her closer, molding the two together. Natasha caught her breath as she softly bit Wanda's lower lip. Taking it into her own mouth.

Delicate was turning into lust.

"Nat.." Wanda moaned as Natasha kissed her again before Natasha grabbed her chin and tilted it to the side. She kissed Wanda's cheek before slowing down, but much to Wanda's displeasure but, Natasha didn't want to take this jump just yet.

So, as both women caught their breath, Natasha moved her hands down to Wanda's, and her lips found the redhead's left ear. "Your smile is infectious," Natasha whispered. "Since the day I met you, I've been trying not to get caught up in you, Wanda." Wanda smiled into Natasha's shoulder. "And I'm sorry if I made you feel unseen or not like enough like last night. That wasn't my intention. I just wasn't sure... I like you, Wanda. I really do."

Wanda lifted her head and smiled as Natasha did the same.

But Wanda saw a flicker on Natasha's face.

"You're still gonna go?" She pouted. "Just give me the weekend," Natasha asked.

Wanda felt like it was unfair and she wouldn't be wrong. Even Natasha felt guilt in her heart.

And even after their kiss and the admission of feelings, Natasha was still scared and anxious about what the future could hold. Wanda's drunken words also got to her more than she confessed before.

"When I come back, we can talk about ourselves."

"So you are coming back?" Wanda asked. Natasha nodded. "Of course." The corners of her lips turned upwards after Wanda's.

"Of course," Wanda repeated.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Community Gardens - Komaeda/Reader

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO [here]

Word Count: 4734

Contains: No warnings as of yet Summary: You were a member of the reserve course before everything went to hell. Now you’re helping the Future Foundation by tending to a small farm on Jabberwock Island, the real Ultimate Farmer was busy, so you will have to do.

The last member of class 77-B has just woken up, and he has questions.

AKA: A talentless reader teaches Komaeda about the smaller things in life, and maybe they fall in love.

Read on Ao3

The classroom is empty, but for you and the inky black hands hiding in the shadows. Reaching out with long grasping fingers that pass right through your flesh like you aren't even there, voices whisper close to you, pressing their cold lips against your cheeks, your throat. Fingers trail down your spine and sink their nails into your vertebrae. 

A set of hazel eyes turn to you. The form they reside in shifts and changes like dye poured into water, indiscernible but for those eyes. Their desk drips with blood like it is alive. You gasp for air, looking down at where your own hands are clasped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter as rivulets of blood spill out over your fingers, dying them a permanent red. You can't breathe. You can’t-

It’s with a jolt that you finally wake up from the familiar nightmare. A cold sweat slowly drips down the nape of your neck, catching the cool night breeze sneaking in through the open window. Your voice catches in your throat and you cup a hand over your mouth, sobbing loudly into your palm. This dream has been a constant companion since the tragedy, you’re lucky to get four hours of sleep most nights.

You squeeze your eyes shut and rub them with the heels of your palms trying to force the images lingering in the corners of your vision to dissipate. Your limbs are shaking, and you can feel your heart racing. There’s no way that you’ll be able to get back to sleep if you don’t manage to calm down. So you take a deep breath in through your nose and swing your shaky legs over the side of the bed. Your bare knees are covered with scrapes and bruises from accidents around the farm, or from kneeling on the hard ground for too long. Your calves are covered in bites from strange insects that live on the island, and a particularly nasty cut that you didn't want to bother Tsumiki about. 

It hurts when you slap your hands against your cheeks, but it does manage to wake you up a little more, you can feel your legs swaying underneath you when you finally stand up. Knees wobbling, as your body prepares itself to run from something that isn't actually there. You push your hair back from your face and sigh as you head out the front door of your small cottage to stand on the porch. It’s just on the outskirts of the farm, overlooking some of the flowerbeds that you planted when you had some time to spare. Koizumi likes to come around and take photos of the honeybees sometimes, so it’s nice to know the flowers have been useful.

The cool ocean air blows through your hair and dances around your bare legs. You take a deep breath in through your nose and look up at the sky. The stars are beautiful on the island, much more beautiful than they even had been in the city. It isn't until you feel the wetness of tears rolling down your cheeks that you realise you’ve been crying.

“I didn't expect to see you this late.” A voice says, startling you, “I hope I didn't wake you.”

Komaeda is standing just beyond the flowerbeds, soft white hair blowing in the breeze. It looks even messier than usual like he has been tossing and turning for hours. The moonlight catches in his curls like dewdrops on a spider’s web. 

“Oh, hello!” You say, hurriedly wiping away your tears with the back of your hand and replacing them with a smile, “I didn't expect to see you either. Are you doing okay?”

“Fine, thank you.” Komaeda says, his ghostly green eyes digging into the marrow of your bones, “How are you?”

You know that he caught you crying and yet, you still lie, “I’m doing great, thank you for asking!” 

“Ah, then I guess you were just having trouble sleeping?”

It feels like he is interrogating you. Needling you. Nails are digging sharp into your palms as you watch him cross the flowerbeds to meet you on the porch. When he’s close enough, you notice the heavy bags under his eyes, and the slowed blinking of his tired eyes. You melt, all tension leaving your shoulders as you reach out towards his face. Quickly thinking better of it and letting your hand drop back to your side. You swallow. 

“You look so tired.” You whisper, “Did something happen, Komaeda-san?”

He laughs, a wheezy little noise that makes his shoulders quiver, “You know what happened. I can tell you aren't sleeping either.”

“I am sleeping.” You say

“Ah, but not very well. Am I right?”

“No. Not very well.” you sigh, “but this isn't about me, I'm worried about you.”

“I haven't been sleeping at all.” His mouth curls into a sad imitation of a smile, lips only tugging up on one side like anything more than that would be painful, “Nightmares. Best to stay awake.”

You find yourself nodding. The last thing you want to do is burden Komaeda with your problems when he already has plenty of his own. So instead you manage to give him a small smile and gesture back into your cottage, “Do you want something to drink? I have tea.”

“Tea sounds good, thank you.”

He follows behind you as you head back in through the front door, ducking under the dried flowers you have hanging from the ceiling. The cottage is very small, and really not designed for entertaining, you surmised that it once must have housed the Jabberwock island groundskeeper, back when it was a tourist destination, “Take a seat and I’ll boil the kettle, it shouldn't be too long.”

Komaeda sits gingerly in one of the wooden chairs sitting by your small kitchen table, you can hear him gently rapping his fingers against the tabletop, “I’m sorry for intruding.” Komaeda says, laughing airily to himself as the tapping of his fingers grows faster, “I walk by here at night because I know I won't run into anyone.”

“Anyone except me.” You reply, grabbing two chipped teacups from a cabinet, “Sugar?”

“Ah, no. Thank you.” Komaeda clears his throat and leans forward on his elbows, “Allow me to clarify my previous statement though, please. I---ah, I meant that I wouldn't run into anyone I didn't want to see me.”

There’s a pleasant tingling in your fingertips when he says that, but you try to ignore it.

“Your being talentless, it…” he takes a long breath in through his nose, “It means I am able to discuss certain things with you that I would not feel…” His brow furrows like he is trying to think of the right word, and he eventually settles on, “ comfortable talking to the other ultimates about.”

You aren’t sure how to respond. Your heart is beating hard but slowly in your chest, an anticipation is building inside of you. The kettle finishes boiling, and suddenly the room feels deathly quiet, “Do you...want milk?”

“Yes, please.” Komaeda breathes

As you walk over to your very sparse fridge, you watch Komaeda from the corner of your eye, “I’m glad that you feel comfortable around me, but I don't understand why you can’t talk to your fellow ultimates about these things.” you grab the bottle of milk from the fridge and move it to the counter where you start preparing the tea, “I’m sure they would be glad to help, I mean, I know that Hinata-san is worried about you.”

He seems to grow smaller in his chair, sinking into himself, “I am…not ready.” You hum thoughtfully, placing the chipped teacup on the table in front of him before taking your own seat. The tea is still a little too hot and you burn your tongue, “It’s going to take time, it took time for the others as well.” “It isn’t just what happened in the Neo World Program.” He replies, a nervous twitchy smile appears on his lips, “Or even what happened in Towa City, there is something…aha…something sickly inside of me, something dark and--and--” His breath is coming faster now, but it doesn't frighten you. One of your hands reaches out and rests on top of his. It's like he comes to his senses, blinking quickly and tugging his hand away.

“I--I think I am…” his arms slowly curl around himself, and his eyes turn down to the ground, “I am using you...to work through some, ah... personal problems. 

“Oh.” You reply, your heart turning to warm butter in your chest, “Well I--uh. I don’t mind being used…If it helps”

Komaeda laughs under his breath, “You… don’t mind?” he laughs some more, it makes his bony shoulders shake, “What is wrong with you?” You don’t know how to answer that, “I’m not sure.”

His hands are still shaking when he picks up his teacup, “I’ve been nothing but dismissive of you, what do you gain from this?” he whispers before raising the cup to his lips. 

In the dim light of your kitchen, you can see the way his bony knuckles protrude from his skin, the sickly blue veins hiding just below the surface. His thin hand quivers as he takes a sip, but he moves with a practiced grace and elegance despite his weakness. 

“I like seeing you happy.” 

Komaeda’s eyes widen, peering at you from over the rim of his teacup, “You…like seeing me happy.” He repeats slowly like he is committing the words to memory. 

Your heart races and you are terrified that you might have overstepped one of his delicate boundaries, “If I can help you find some joy in this world, then-” you swallow, hands clenching and unclenching under the table, “Well, that would mean I've done something wonderful.”

His teacup clinks when Komaeda places it back down, “What if I can’t? What if there’s no joy left for me?” You give him a wobbly smile, and ignore the beginnings of tears prickling in your eyes, “You won’t know if you don’t try!”

***

You are surprised when you see Komaeda walking towards the farm only a day after your last conversation. Usually, his visits are at least a week apart, but you are not at all disappointed to see him earlier. A new shipment from the foundation must have finally arrived because he is now wearing a shirt that actually fits him. It dips tantalizingly low at the collar, low enough that you catch the slice of both his collarbones. 

“Good morning, Komaeda-san!” You call out to him, waving from where you are crouched by a garden bed.

He raises his hand in greeting, and comes to stand beside you, “what are you doing today?” He asks

You hum to yourself, watering some barely sprouting red cabbages, “Watering and then hanging some netting up around the fruits that are coming in.” You shoot Komaeda a sunny smile, “The blueberries are almost ready! Which is very exciting, but does mean we need to keep them safe from birds and fruit flies.”

Komaeda nods, “Necessitating the netting.”

“Bingo!” You stand up and wipe your dirty palms on your knees, “For now, do you want to grab the spare watering can? As always, I’d appreciate the help.”

He does as asked, he knows exactly where you keep the spare and is quick to help you start watering the vegetables. There’s something tense and shaky between the two of you, the conversation in your cottage was more personal than any other you’ve had, and to see him again so quickly leaves you feeling especially fragile. 

His hair is tied up today, and you find yourself tantalized by the expanse of his bare neck for reasons you’d rather not acknowledge just yet. Solidifying these feelings might be the end for you, and knowing your track record, might drag him down with you. Komaeda needs someone to look after him, and if he isn't ready to let his friends do that for him, you’ll suffice for now. Not that you mind, you’re honored to have been given the chance. 

“How much longer did you say you would be staying with us?” Komaeda asks suddenly, not looking up from the garden bed. 

You’re surprised by the question, unsure why he would care to ask, “Probably just a month from now, maybe longer if Souda-san hasn’t gotten irrigation sorted by then.” You turn to look at him, and notice that he is still avoiding your eyes. You swallow, “Why?”

His eyes dart to meet yours, and then back down just as quickly, “Everyone is going to miss you.” You freeze, gripping tightly to the handle of your watering can. After a few deep breaths, you force a smile, “There’s no reason for them to miss me! Not when they’ll have you to look after the garden instead.” Komaeda stops watering, he stands up straight and his eyes are firm when he looks down at you, “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

You laugh, trying to ignore the aching, “What else could you possibly mean? Come on, I have to get the netting set up and it’s going to be tough without an extra set of hands.”

The awkward feeling gets worse. You head over to a nearby shed and pull out several feet of rolled up netting, Komaeda follows quietly behind you as you make your way over to the plot of fruits you have growing. The berry bushes and fruit trees had some time to grow on the mainland, so most of them are almost ready for their first harvest after just two months. You kneel down in front of the blueberries and smile as the small green growths that (given proper care) will be proper edible food very soon. 

“The hard work has paid off, huh?” You say to Komaeda, “Thanks for all your help these past few weeks, it’s been nice to have company.”

Komaeda doesn't say anything in reply, he just gives you a look that you have trouble interpreting. His brows pull tight, and the curve of his mouth almost reads sad . 

“It’s okay if you aren’t in the mood to help, today.” You suggest tentatively, “Just let me know, okay?”

Komaeda laughs breathily, “ I’m fine. I can help.”

“Alrighty, then.” You pull yourself up from the ground and pass Komaeda one end of the netting and some garden pegs, “Just pull that to the other side of the plot, over the top of the plants. The pegs just go into the dirt, it’s pretty loose so a firm push should be enough to get them in.”

Nodding quickly, Komaeda lifts the netting up and over the blueberries, settling into a crouch on the other side as he starts securing it. You do the same on your side, watching how his hair dances in the light breeze. 

“I asked Mikan about her knitting.” Komaeda says, peering across at you, “Like you said I should.” You smile, warmth blooming in your chest, “Yes? How did that go?”

“You were right. She isn’t very good at it.” He replies, but is smiling as he does, “It’s getting better as she goes though, she’s managing a pretty straight line now. It ah-” he shrugs a shoulder, “It seems to make her happy.”

“Maybe you should pick up a hobby. I know there isn’t much to do around the island, but I’m sure you could find something.”

Komaeda smiles at you from across the blueberries, “I’ve already taken up gardening, that’s enough for now.”

Your cheeks warm, “I’m glad.”

The both of you settle into a comfortable silence for some time, and once you finish covering a collection of blueberry bushes you quickly move onto the next. Komaeda is a fast learner and takes half the netting from you as before without you needing to ask him to. You can’t help but think about that conversation the two of you had in the middle of the night.

“Can I ask you a question?” Komaeda begins, tilting his head to the side. 

You smile, “I don’t see why not.”

“Why didn’t you just go to a normal school? The reserve course was incredibly costly and if I hadn't been scouted I would have been-” He sighs, “Never mind.” “No it’s okay. I won’t be upset, say what you want to.” Komaeda stares at you a moment, before a sickly little smile crawls up the side of his cheek, “I, aha, would have been too ashamed to even step foot on the grounds, why weren’t you?” “It wasn't my choice to make, Komaeda-san.” Your brow creases, and you sit cross legged on the ground when you finish securing the netting, “Things have changed a lot since then, but at the time I had parents who just wanted what they thought was best for me, no matter the cost. I think you’ll find most of the reserve course students were in the same boat, we were just kids, you know?”

He goes silent for some time, staring down at his hands and picking at the cuticles on his remaining flesh fingers. You know him well enough now that you just let him think it over, sitting quietly and waiting until he works out what he wants to say. The ocean breeze is calm today, but it still tosses around the leaves on the ground and tangles in Komaeda’s already unruly hair. 

“Was it…a good education?” He asks quietly, “By regular standards, I mean.” “No.” You answer truthfully, “All the tuition fees from the reserve course went straight to the Ultimate division, we were underfunded and most of our teachers didn’t pay much attention to us.” You look down at your lap, worrying your lower lip, “They did experiments on us too sometimes, small ones, not invasive. Just to see how we would react in certain circumstances. I mean, you know what they did to Hinata-san, I think they were gathering data for that .”

Komaeda doesn't say anything in response, though at first it seems like he wants to. He doesn't look up at you, he pretends to busy himself with some of the pegs, but you know he finished pegging everything down a long time ago. 

After a while, you take an uneasy breath and say, “I don’t think Hope’s Peak had our best interests at heart.” He scoffs under his breath, “Why would they? I couldn't expect them to waste their time on the talentless when there were more important educations to foster.” “No, Komaeda-san.” You say, gently, “You’ve misunderstood me.”

He peers up at you, something pained hides behind his eyes. 

“I don't think they had anyone’s best interests at heart. Not even yours.”

***

It’s Koizumi who comes by next, as always she’s clutching tightly to a well worn polaroid camera. You haven’t heard much about it, but apparently the digital camera she favored had an almost full memory card when she awoke from the simulation and she was too scared to open it up and wipe it. So for now she’s making her way through the collection of dusty polaroid film cartridges in the Jabberwock Island gift shop. 

You’re in the middle of weeding around some of the carrots when she comes up the path. She’s wearing a thin green sundress over a white t-shirt, the breeze kicks up her skirt and it dances around her ankles. Like you, she’s also sporting a wide brimmed hat to protect her face from the sun, she tilts the brim back and shoots you a warm smile. 

“Hi Koizumi-san!” You say brightly, it’s been a bit since you’ve seen her, “What can I help you with?”

She laughs and shakes her head, “I don’t need help with anything, I’m just dropping by to check in on you.” She takes a quick look around the farm, “Everything seems to be growing nicely.” You nod, “We almost have some fruit, shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

“That’s good! You’ve done well.” Koizumi says, but her smile wavers when she adds, “Hey, I was just wondering…Why didn’t you come to the party last week?”

“Oh.” You reply, turning your attention back to the garden bed, “I was just tired, sorry.” Koizumi hums, fingering the shoulder strap of her camera, “We were all pretty upset that you couldn't make it. Some more than others.” she looks quite stern when you peer up at her, mouth pulled in a tight line, “You can come to the hotel, you know? You don’t have to stay up here by yourself.”

You shake your head, “Thanks for offering, but I have a lot of work to do. It’s easier for everyone if I stay here.” “Well, if you insist.” Koizumi says with a shrug, and you are glad that she’s dropped the subject, “We’re not going anywhere, if you change your mind.” There are a few stray weeds left amongst the carrots and you go back to pulling them out, too nervous to look Koizumi in the eye anymore, “I probably won't, but that’s very kind of you.” The wind is stronger today, and it knocks your hat straight off your head. You don’t mean to, but having to struggle to catch it before it blows away has a giggle bubbling up and out of your chest. Putting the hat back on your head, you turn to Koizumi to ask if she is alright, and are stunned by the flash of a camera. 

You blink for a few seconds, and Koizumi chuckles good-naturedly, “Sorry, sorry. That was just the first real smile I’ve seen from you, my instincts kicked in.”

Another laugh escapes you, though this one is nervous and insincere, “I smile all the time, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shrugs, “When you take as many photos as I do, you get pretty good at picking out a genuine smile.” she gives you a look that borders on sad, “You are very good at faking it, though, I’ll give you that.”

***

The nightmares keep you awake once again. Desperate for fresh air and the quiet crashing of waves on the sand, you stumble to the back of your farm where the grass disappears and the beach begins. It isn’t as large as the beach by the hotel, only two meters or so of sand and gentle lapping saltwater, but it’s just you here, so two meters is all you need.  

You kick off your sandals before sitting down in the sand, tucking your knees up to your chest and burying your face in them. You should tell Hinata someday, maybe right before you leave. It won’t help any, it won’t undo what’s already happened but keeping this secret buried deep and festering in your chest is killing you. Everyone is so nice to you, everyone is too nice to you. There is nothing of value that you can offer, nothing you can do, all you ever do is run and run and run and-

Someone is calling out your name, from the sound of it, they’re standing out the front of your cottage. You sniffle, and try your best to sound like you haven’t been crying when you call out, “Down here!”

It takes a few minutes, but you do eventually hear the sound of shoes crunching on the sand. Something cold taps against your shoulder, and you turn around to see Komaeda holding a can of Blue Ram out to you. He has at least five more in a plastic bag hanging from his other hand, “Do you want one?” He asks, “They help.” Trying to ignore how instantly your heart warms when you see him, you reach out to take the can from him, apologizing under your breath when you fingers brush against his, “Thanks, Komaeda-san,” You say quietly, gesturing to the space beside you, “Take a seat if you want.”

He does, wordlessly. His long legs cross beneath him, and you notice that he’s wearing a pair of loose cotton pants instead of his usual dark jeans. Reaching into the plastic bag, he pulls out a can of Blue Ram for himself and cracks it open, heaving a long sigh before he turns to you, “Are you sleeping?”

“I am.” You reply quietly, opening your own can with shaky hands. 

Komaeda smiles, and repeats his assertion from nights before, “But not very well, am I right?”

“No.” You reply knowingly, “Not very well.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment, you sip gently at your Blue Ram, you haven’t had one before and it’s a bit too sickly sweet for your taste. Komaeda looks especially pretty in the ocean breeze with his low cut shirt and unruly hair, you sigh and close your eyes to keep from staring at him, “How are you, Komaeda-san?” He shrugs a shoulder, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about Hope’s Peak Academy.” “Oh.” you reply, “I hope I didn't upset you.” “ You didn’t upset me.” 

That’s good to hear. You know that Komaeda’s boundaries are firm, even if he isn’t willing to disclose where they lay. You are glad you haven’t crossed any. 

He reclines backward a little, resting back on his elbows and peering up at the stars, “My luck it-” he frowns, like he isn't sure how to continue, “Well it isn't consistent, aha. I try to control it, the outcome of it, I mean, when it backfires.” You have enough sense not to interrupt, but you do spin slightly to better face him as he speaks. He looks beautiful in the moonlight. 

“Even then I never really have full control, no matter what I do.” He gulps a desperate breath, his voice growing shaky, “They never… helped me.”

The salty air tosses and tangles in your hair, and your voice is high and weak in your throat when you whisper, “Who didn’t?”

He laughs breathlessly, “Hope’s Peak. I didn’t take much notice at the time, the fact they were even interested in a talent as worthless as mine was so exhilarating that I couldn’t think about anything else but-” he makes a choked sound and sits back up to he can wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, “They knew what my luck did to me, but never taught me how to control it. They had experts and researchers but they were all too busy watching us and studying us to actually help .”

You lean forward, hand shaking when you reach a hand out and rest it on his knee. For all you know about Komaeda, about his opinions of himself and his talent and his emotional state, it feels like you’re missing all the surface level information, the things he divulges on a first meeting. You swallow, “You don’t have to tell me, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to but-” his eyes meet yours and you are stunned briefly into silence, steadying yourself, you ask, “What does your luck do to you?”

Komaeda starts laughing, but it sounds almost painful and his shoulders tremble with the intensity of it. You fall backwards when he suddenly stands up and takes a few determined steps towards the water, he bends down and grabs a rock from the shoreline, giving you a pointed look before arcing his arm back and skipping the rock across the water once, twice, thirteen times and even more beyond that. He turns back to face you, arms crossed against his chest like he is waiting for something. Then, after what feels like a few agonizing minutes, the ocean rises, and a wave much larger than any you had seen at the small section of beach crashes directly into the back of him, soaking completely through his clothes. 

It was only a taste of it, but you understand completely. 

He seems surprised when you stand up, but you’re so desperately emotional that you aren’t thinking straight. It only takes a few monumental steps to reach him, and then you are standing on your toes and wrapping your arms tight around his shoulders and burying your face in his chest. 

Komaeda makes a choked sound above you, and one of his hands eventually settles shakily on your waist, “I’m all wet.” He says shakily, “I’ll ruin your clothes.” You hold him tighter, “I don't care.”

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Hay It's Getting Cold Out

“The fuck?” Ian’s words stumbled from his lips as he walked into the apartment to find straw littering all over the kitchen floor.

Mickey’s head peeked up from behind the kitchen island and he ducked back down.

“Mickey why does our apartment look like a barn?” Ian walked over to the kitchen island and found Mickey on his knees surrounded by straw and plastic storage bins.

“I’ll clean it up.” Mickey muttered as he picked a knife up and jammed it into the bin, sawing a square into it before punching it through.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked trying not to sound accusatory but not being sure if he was succeeding.

Mickey paused and looked up at Ian, “It’s getting cold out, it's going to get colder this weekend, like below twenty degrees out.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, and we live in Chicago, this happens a lot in the fall and winter.” 

“Well, I wanted to do something for Clawdia, but everything I was looking at was super expensive. But then I found this do it yourself thing and it would only cost about ten bucks.”

“Claudia?” 

Mickey grimaced, “Clawdia, the cat that has the missing leg that hangs out around the pool in the summer.”

“You named her Clawdia?”

Mickey groaned, “Yes I named her, yes I’ve been feeding her, and no I don’t want her to get cold this winter, so I’m making her this cat house. But when I went to ordered the straw to get delivered I thought a bale was only like a pound or two, turns out it’s a fuckton. So I’m making more than one for any of Clawdia’s friends that get cold this winter and want a nice warm box.”

Ian felt his lips curve up in a smile, “That’s so s-”

“Fuck off Gallagher.” Mickey huffed sinking back down to keep sawing at the plastic bin.

“You know if you wanted a cat-”

Mickey groaned, “Fuck OFF.” 

Ian looked at the mess and shook his head, he went to the bedroom and put his phone on the charger before digging into the closet and grabbing another knife from the closet.

He came back into the kitchen and sunk onto the floor across from Mickey.

Mickey eyed him as he grabbed another one of the storage bins and stabbed the knife into the side before sawing a line into it.

Ian glanced up at Mickey and grinned as he sawed the square out of the bin and punched it through.

Together they made six cat shelters, even with each one stuffed full of hay they still had a good amount left over.

“How about we go to the hardware store and get some wood? Make a big shelter for the rest of the hay?” Ian suggested when they finished sweeping and bagging the remainder of the straw up from the kitchen floor.

“I didn’t want to make it a big project.” Mickey sighed tying the bag up and shoving it aside.

“I know, but I’m sure we can budget it enough to make it work, besides what else would we use the hay for?” Ian asked with a laugh.

Mickey smirked, “Well, there is that fantasy about doing it in the loft of a barn in the hay.”

Ian’s laugh slipped from his face and he looked at his husband sternly, “We are NOT putting that hay in our bed.”

Mickey laughed reaching up and cupping Ian’s face with his hands, “C’mon Carrot Farmer, you know you need to make sure the stable hand is doing the chores.” 

Ian let Mickey pull him into a kiss before gripping his wrists gently, “No way. Now let’s get these ones out to Clawdia before it does get cold out.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Spoil sport.”

“Well we couldn’t have done that at a better time.” Ian muttered as he looked at the picture Mickey had sent him.

Clawdia the three legged cat in one of the shelter boxes with four little puffy kittens around her.

“You know, that extra room we have would make a good nursery.” Mickey mused over the phone.

“No way.” Ian’s voice was firm, but when he looked at that photo again he felt his heart melting.

“Only Clawdia, and only her kittens. And once they’re all old enough we’re getting them all fixed.”

“Glad you’re agreeable because I already brought them inside. And since we still had that hay I took out the drawers of the dresser and put some in each.”

[oaksvalley]

There was only one bed

“Don’t you worry about me, farmer,” Willy assures, stepping into the empty living room with his duffle bag. He wasn’t expecting a fully furnished guest bedroom in the small, newly refurbished house on Ginger Island. In fact, Willy had helped the farmer lug over construction supplies and the bare minimum appliances from Pelican town, so he knew he would most likely have to sleep on the floor. He is surprised the farmer even has a bed to begin with since that hadn’t been in the stuff they brought here a month or two ago. It showed just how crafty the farmer had become since arriving to the valley. “This living room is more than enough. I’m used to sleepin’ on wooden planks anyway.”

“You sure?” The farmer asks, wringing their hands. Their cheeks are flushed pink from the rain and wind outside but also from embarrassment. It’s their fault Willy is stuck on the island in the first place. They forgot to check the weather forecast before booking this trip and a nasty storm started to roll in, preventing Willy from going back.

“I’d ’preciate a blanket and maybe a pillow if you could spare?”

“Of course!” The farmer scurries off to their bedroom. Their cheeks further reden. Why didn’t they think to offer first? They open the bedroom closet and grab a thick quilt and blanket before snatching one of the pillows from their bed. When the farmer makes it back to the living room, Willy is off to the side, kneeling in front of his duffel bag to look for a change of clothes. The farmer folds the quilt to make a sort of futon, and gingerly sets it next to where the fisherman is. They place the pillow on one end and the blanket on top before glancing at Willy.

The man grins at them, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” the farmer sheepishly mumbles. “Uhm, if you’d like to freshen up I can heat some water on the stove for a bath.”

“That would be grand,” Willy smiles pleasantly.

“Alright,” the farmer says, walking to the kitchen area. Willy follows after them. “The bathroom is through my room to the left. Well, I call it a bathroom, but really it’s just a wet room with a wooden tub. The door in there connects to the outhouse.”

Willy hums, looking around. There’s a wood burner to heat the house, small gas stove, equally small sink, and fridge all lined up nicely along the wall. He frowns, questioning the safety of having the gas stove so close to the wood burner. He’s about to ask when there’s flash of white followed immediately by a sharp cracking noise and rumble that rattles the windows.

The farmer yelps and drops the large pot they were taking out of the cabinet. The pot falls onto the counter with a metallic clatter. The loud noise only makes the farmer recoil further. They cover their ears and shut their eyes tight, crouching down and make themselves even smaller.

Willy immediately kneels down in front of them. His hands cradle the farmer’s face and he starts talking to them. His soft tone and warm touch coax the farmer to open their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the farmer wobbly apologizes. They bring their shaking hands down to their knees, and Willy shifts to hold their hands up in his own firm grip. The slight pressure helps ground the farmer. “I- well, I don’t do well with storms anymore.”

“Don’t worry,” Willy soothes, noticing the farmer starting to shiver. They still haven’t changed out of their soaked clothes. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

The fisherman gently pulls the farmer up and guides them to their room. Willy waits at the door frame with his back turned to give the farmer some privacy.

Quickly and more than a bit flustered, the farmer haphazardly shrugs off their soaked clothes and puts on pijamas. “Willy, I—

Suddenly there is another flash of light and thunder. The farmer whimpers and flees under their covers. They really don’t want to be alone until the storm passes, or at least until the thunder and lightning stop. Before they can think too much about it, the farmer blurts out, “Can you stay with me? Please.”

The silence is deafening. The farmer’s anxiety increases, so they start to ramble, “There’s more than enough room for the two of us. Only if you want of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Actually, if you’d rather not—”

Willy interrupts, “Let me get changed. Be right back.”

From under the covers, the farmer silently counts the seconds it takes for Willy to come back. It helps calm their nevers, but it also makes them truly think about what they just asked. They wonder if it was really okay with Willy. What if they ruined whatever rapport they had with him? Soon they hear Willy’s approaching footsteps.

“I’m back,” Willy says moments later. He hesitates and stands beside the other side of the bed. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” is all the farmer replies. The bed dips as Willy climbs on, but he doesn’t get under the covers. The farmer inches their way closer to Willy when lightning strikes again.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Willy speaks. He gathers the farmer closer to himself. “It’ll be over soon.”

A wave of comfort washes over the farmer with Willy’s firm grip on their midsection. There’s a faint smell of the ocean and coffee. It isn’t long before the farmer fully relaxes and falls asleep in the safety of the older man’s arms.

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 29: Winedrunk Affection

We’re in the home stretch now! 

Mushy May arranged by @forlorn-crows 

Pairing: Mountain/Sunny/Dew

Rating: Teen

Words: 1009

***

Mountain is the only ghoul Papa trusts enough to go to the local farmer’s market unsupervised. He doesn’t bother vendors, nor does he get sidetracked looking at things he knows he doesn’t need. He gets what’s written on the communal list, and only what’s on the communal list. 

At least, that’s what Papa believes. 

Mountain shoves the door to the ghoul kitchen open with his hip, balancing several paper bags in his arms. He unloads the fresh produce into the fridge, the new jar of honey into the cabinet, and the bread into the breadbox. 

He folds the empty paper bags and sticks them on the pile under the sink. There’s one bag remaining, standing on the kitchen island, and he grabs it, tucking it under his arm. Glass clinks together, and Mountain cringes, even though he knows the glass is thick enough that he can drop these bottles and get away with it. 

He sticks his head out of the kitchen door, glancing up and down the hallway for any of his packmates or fellow ghouls. When he realizes the coast is clear, he makes his way quickly down the hallway, ducking out of the nearest door. 

Once he makes it out of the abbey proper, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket, walking quickly to his greenhouse. He thumbs through his messages, finding a specific group chat. 

Mountain: Meet me at the greenhouse in five. Got the stuff

Dew: Fuck yeah!!!!!!

Sunny: Finishing up with the girls, be right there!

He smiles, grabbing his keyring and unlocking the greenhouse. Mountain takes a deep breath of dirt and growth that feels like home, and makes his way to the table and chairs in the back. He sets the bag down, pulling out three large bottles of wine, each a different hue, one purple, one almost orange, and one pink. 

Mountain reaches for one of the cabinets that line the back wall of the greenhouse, moving a watering can to reveal three wine glasses. He sets them on the table, and goes about lighting the lanterns and candles dotted around the shelves with a lighter.

Pounding footsteps approach the greenhouse, and Dew appears in the doorway, doubled over and panting. “Came as soon as I could,” he wheezes, looking up at Mountain. “I could have lit those.”

Mountain snorts, lighting the last lantern. “Get inside, firefly. It’s on the table.”

“You are the fucking best, juniper,” Dew says, clasping his hands and grinning. He takes a seat at the back table as Sunny scrambles into the greenhouse. Mountain locks the door behind her.

“Well, the girls think I’m hooking up with one of you,” she laughs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m letting them think that so they don’t find out.”

“Oh, you care about our wine dates that much, bumblebee?” Mountain says, resting his arm on her shoulder as they walk to the back of the greenhouse. 

“I’m sure they’d like the wine, but this is our thing.”

“Oh, you’re sweet,” Mountain says, pulling out Sunny’s chair before Rikering over his own. 

Dew’s already grabbed his bottle, the wine inside flavored with raspberry juice. He unglamors his claws, wedging one into the cork and pulling it free. He pours himself a full glass and sets down the bottle. 

“You guys want me to open yours?” Dew offers, gesturing with his claws. Sunny passes her bottle over, a peach wine, and he pops it open. 

“I own a corkscrew,” Mountain sighs, though it’s like this every time. He takes said corkscrew and opens his own, flavored with blackberry.  He takes a long sip and sighs with delight. 

“Father below, this stuff is good,” Sunny says, throwing back a gulp. 

“That’s why I get it,” Mountain says. 

“Strong enough to get us drunk, too” Dew chimes in, having already finished his first glass. 

“We have all night, ember,” Sunny laughs. “Slow down.”

Dew’s nose crinkles as he smiles. “Nah,” He shakes his head, pouring himself another glass. “We do this every time. We drink all of our wine, we get drunk off of our asses, and then somehow we squeeze ourselves into your dinky little bed and not wake up on the ground in the morning.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, droplet,” Mountain agrees, draining his glass. It doesn’t go unnoticed that the other two ghouls stare at his throat as he swallows. He raises an eyebrow at them, and they pretend to be interested in the labels of their bottles. 

They finish their glasses, and pour more, and pour more, until the bottles are empty. Mountain has the clarity of mind to put the empty bottles back in the paper bag, and the ghouls migrate to Mountain’s bed. 

Sunny practically tackles Dew to the mattress, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She clings when she’s drunk, and Dew happened to be the closest. She wraps her arms around him and refuses to let go. 

“Sunny, baby, sweetheart,” Mountain slurs, “You need to move so I can get in my bed with the two of you.”

“Nuh-uh,” she protests, shaking her head. Her curls brush against Dew’s pink cheeks, the reddening tip of his ear, and he bursts into delirious giggles. 

“Sun-ny!” he laughs, throwing his head back into the pillows. “Let him in, come on, it’s his bed.”

“Don’t wanna move,” Sunny says, nuzzling closer into Dew’s skin. “My ember. Mine.”

Mountain sighs before laying down as gently as he can over top both of them. The breath leaves Dew’s body with a soft oof as both Sunny’s and Mountain’s weight presses him down into the mattress. He scoops his arms under the both of them, rolling onto his back so both his ghouls lay on his chest. 

“Come on, my pretty darlings. Let’s go to bed. I’ll keep you here in my arms and no one will end up on the floor.”

“My hero,” Dew giggles, pressing a kiss to Mountain’s cheek. 

“I’m all yours, baby,” Mountain agrees. “All of yours.”

[mcalhenwrites]

Oct 8: Talking to the Dead

Oct 1: A Bad Habit to have in Autumn Oct 2: Making Pumpkin Treats Oct 3: "I don't want to sleep alone tonight." Oct 4: Favorite Warm Drink Oct 5: Chopping Wood Oct 6: Farmer's Market Oct 7: Apple Spice [Kieran and a random fisherman, from Geckos]

All Kieran’s friends were ghosts.

Agatha even fell into this category, if one counted that spirits could sometimes possess vessels that made them seem alive.

Kieran loved the company of the fishermen at the dock. They spanned several generations and all had unique fishing techniques. He found each of their stories about the island and the fish fascinating.

Then he met Ken, and his interest increased from storytelling to a desire to try fishing the way Ken did when he was alive.

“You shouldn’t do it alone,” Ken advised. “You can’t do it with that metal friend of yours, either. Even if she doesn’t fill with water, she’d sink right to the bottom.” Ken demonstrated this with two fingers, plunging them almost down into the water as he sat at the edge of the dock, bare feet dangling over the ocean.

Kieran sat beside him and imagined—though he definitely didn’t want to—what it would be like if Agatha sank to the sand several feet below them. The thought terrified him.

“Couldn’t you come with me?” asked Kieran.

“What can a dead man do if you start to drown?”

Kieran shrugged. “Maybe some bones would be useful. The ocean is full of them.”

“Gonna make a ship out of bones, are you? Float you right back to the top?” Ken shook his head, clicking his tongue.

Kieran pursed his lips together. Having the power to command the dead could be useful, but it had its limitations, especially if he didn’t want to become anything like Julian.

“One of my grandpas might take me fishing.”

“Yeah, that’s good! Ask him.”

“Did you really use a spear?”

“I did!”

“Then it won’t work. Papa would put his foot down.”

“That’s your other grandpa? Or your father?”

“My grandpa. Happa’s the one I’d ask, and he’s Papa’s husband. I just call my father by his name.” Kieran blew a raspberry. “You sure you can’t take me? I don’t want to wait years for Papa to let me go fishing your way!”

Ken patted Kieran on the back, although it could barely be felt. “When the time comes, I’ll go with you. Doesn’t matter how far into the future, friend. Someone has to teach you while this Happa of yours makes sure you don’t drown.”

Kieran grinned up at his friend. Maybe ghosts couldn’t do much to protect him, and he couldn’t command them against their will if he wanted to be respectful of their autonomy, but they made great company. They told him about traditions on the island that he might otherwise never have learned. (Unless he read books, and he wasn’t going to do that.)

Ken had become his favorite spirit and closest companion, even if he couldn’t tell Duncan that his second best friend was a burly man who never wore shirts but covered most of his brown skin with tattoos and carried around a thick fishing spear.

[the-stage-manager]

IF I DONT TELL SOMEBODY ABOUT MY TAV IM GOING TO EXPLODE

Here he is, his name is Urzire. He is (was) a pirate.

(Look at how pretty he is in these blue robes. He's so tranquil UwU)

He is a tiefling charletan bard, college of swords, former pirate captain. He fell in love with Astarion while committing scams. Unfortunately he has a condition where he only gets the Brain CellTM during the full moon (dumb of ass)

He was actually born 150ish years before the events of BG3, in a small village. His parents were farmers and he has 8 siblings and is the second youngest. He was 5 when his younger brother was born, and made it his life's mission to protect him. His parents were farmers and, unfortunately, their village was razed when Urzire was 15. He lost his entire family, and was captured and sold as a slave.

For the next seven years, he labored deep beneath the surface of the earth mining for coal and rare minerals. At one point, he and a handful of others were trapped in a cave in, where they were stuck for over three weeks waiting for rescue. So... Yeah. He's not a big fan of the Underdark. Or the caves.

He secured his freedom after seven years and found work as a sailor. Though TBH he wasn't very good at the whole "honesty" and "not stealing" thing and he was a within like three months. It was a real quick turn around.

He met Astarion in a bar—Astarion, at this point, was only eighty years or so into his slavery, so he was, admittedly, in a different mindset. A little more desperate, a little less jaded, just starting to lose hope. They met at a ball Cazador dragged his spawn to; Astarion claimed to be a magistrate, Urzire claimed to also be a magistrate, and they then proceeded to seduce each other. Astarion wanted a victim for Cazador, and Urzire wanted a victim to hold as ransom. Unfortunately neither succeeded but, by sheer happenstance, they met up again in a bar months later.

Look, it's the perfect meet-cute: boy meets boy, boy1 confesses to being a vampire, boy2 confesses to having a hostage in the basement that needs to die so "I guess I wouldn't mind so terribly much if you happened to steal her away to eat..." Look, they both think they're manipulating each other, okay? Astarion thinks he's putting on a sob story to gain a powerful ally, Urzire thinks he's doing favors for a powerful vampire who will be in his debt. UNFORTUNATELY THEY BOTH CATCH FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER.

Honestly, who could have seen it coming?

The truth is revealed, they fall in love, Urzire makes plans to kill Cazador, he also reunites with his long-lost little brother (who is married and has. Tiny baby eee!) It's all very lovely and nice.

Except then it goes to shit.

His ship sinks, and he washes ashore on a tiny island in the Feywilds, because the fey who rules the island, Callipso, fell in love with him and wants to make him her husband. He resists as best he can, but Urzire is trapped with her, and she's a fey. She charms him, and takes what she wants, even though he doesn't want to give it. Every time they are intimate, he loses a piece of himself—literally. His skin turns grey, he loses his ability to play the violin, to sing, to do much of anything, and he's losing his memories. After 12 months, Callipso finally releases him and when he washes up on the shore back in the mortal plane, he barely remembers who he even is. All he knows is that he's in love with somebody, and they're suffering, and he has to find them.

He wanders aimlessly around the city, like a zombie, before a Nautoloid appears out of nowhere and BAHM! Tadpoled.

Except, here's the thing: time passes differently in the Feywilds. While only 12 months passed for Urzire, 120 years passed in the mortal plane.

And Urzire has no idea. In fact, when he meets Astarion, he doesn't recognize him, his memories are too fractured. But Astarion looks at Urzire and sees the ghost of a man who abandoned him, who betrayed him, who left him to rot for over a century. He doesn't believe it at first. But once he realizes... It's bad. He bites the Tiefling that night with 100% the intention to drink him dry. But Urzire seems completely in the dark and that throws him off.

They fall in love slowly. Urzire continues to show Astarion relentless compassion and, at first, the vampire wants none of it. But slowly, he warms up to it. He pieces the story together from the bits and pieces Urzire tells around the campfire—the Tiefling was just as trapped as he was, in many ways. He's still bitter... But it fades. He falls in love.

By the time they reach Baldur's Gate, Uzire still doesn't recognize him, but he's fallen in love, and he feels guilty about it—after all, he loves somebody back in the city, somebody who needs him.

Astarion tries to hint at the reality of the situation but doesn't have the courage to tell him outright. So when they reach the city and Urzire realizes how much time has passed... It's a doozy.

But it gets worse. Remember that bit where Urzire reunited with his long lost little brother, who is married and has a child? Well, when Urzire disappeared, Astarion didn't handle it well. He hoped for a long, long time but eventually gave up and his hope died and became rage. He took his anger out on Urzire's brother by stealing their young child in the dead of night (Astarion had been invited into the home, he had been Urzire's partner after all) and presenting him to Cazador to be eaten.

It's a secret that Astarion intended on taking with him to his grave. Until... They arrive in Cazador's palace and three guesses who's in that cell with the rest of the malnourished spawn? That's right. It's the little boy. Urzire doesn't actually recognize him, he'd only been a baby when he saw him last, as Calliope fried his memories pretty badly. In fact, Astarion doesn't even realize he's in there because he's too emotionally charged after the confrontation with Sebastian.

But after Cazador is dead, and they're climbing up the stairs to leave the palace, the realization hits Astarion in the chest like a fucking freight train. To his credit (perhaps he's only able to do it because he's already so emotionally numb), he tells Urzire and they go find the little boy, and Urzire insists on taking him back to camp.

He and Astarion do stay partners, even though their relationship is a little bit strained for a while after, understandably so. But they work it out, and Urzire goes on to adopt his nephew. Instead of living in the underground with the spawn after the game, he and Astarion and the boy immediately head to Waterdeep with Gale (because they are homeless lol) to start researchih cures for vampirism. Which they eventually find! Because it really isn't all that hard to cure vampirism in DnD.

So that's it. That's the story of my son.

[peanuts-side-art-blog]

Uh putting peanuts playlist here and reminding myself to orginize it by what the hell i was thinking for adding each song under the cut gehehe

Playlist - Peanut Anon's Themes - YouTube

ok so the explanations for each one now for realsies

Original Peanut (before any of the lore):

Yippe - FNF (a one shot)

Nourishing Blood - Marios Madness v2

Happy - Fightin for a Funky Night

Cob - Strident Crisis

Cars Little Song - Hit Single

Lore 1 - Hey Rowan Cinder Block + Lore 2 - Peanuts Purgatory

End of Abuse - FNF (a one shot)

DIE - Asdf's Endless Muffin Time

Lore 3 - Sleep off the Pain + Lore 4 - The Anon Bloodbath

Forgotten World - Pibby Apocalypse

My Amazing World - Pibby Apocalypse

My Finale - Pibby Apocalypse

Lore 5 - Silent Seclusion

Alone - Marios Madness v2

Cryfield - Vs Gorefield v2

Downhearted - Sundays Desolation

My Fault - CN Lost Episodes

Lore 6 - Broken Bind

Nocturnal Meow - Vs Gorefield v2

Lore 7 - Feverish Farmer

Disperazione - Mario is Missing cancelled v4 (i believe)

Delirium - Sundays Desolation

Lore 8 - Drowned Dumbass

Watery Grave - FNF:Classified (SJHKJSDHSGD)

Thalassophobia - Marios Madness v2 (JSGJMDA)

Sink - Below the Depths

Lore 8.5 - Opposite Rowan/Peach

Silly Billy - Hit Single

Twiddlefinger - FNF (a one shot)

Lore 8.8 - Feral Arc

guh this is still goin on so i dont have anythin atm for this is pelted with cinder blocks

Lore 9 - Infected Invasion

Encounter - Nobita's Biohazard

Giggle - Vs Monika.exe: OUTDATED

Lets Go Gambling - FNF (a one shot, the one by Kreagato)

Ending Seasons - Battle for Corrupted Island

Lore 10 - A Line Crossed (HEHEHHEHEHEH PLOTS EVILY THIS IS A FUTURE EVENT GEHEHE JUST TRY TO GUESS WHAT HAPPENS USHSJKDHSDKJ)

Breaking Point - FNF MAD AS SHIT

Girl Hell 1999 - Femtanyl 

Smile HD - Funkin is Magic

Downcast Doubter - AU

Untold Loneness - Wednesdays Infidelity v2 (duh)

Dysphoria - Sundays Desolation

Butchering Barn - AU

Cupcakes - Funkin is Magic