#the rest i have to....farm eggs for

[raredrop]

caught on my 10th attempt as well as with a split second to spare

[hyperfixation-symposium]

I don't feel like q!bad gets enough praise for being such a good dad.

Like, he's encouraging of Dapper's special interests even if they're dangerous and often end up with him at least slightly hurt. He's incredibly respectful of Dapper's independence while also being a caring and attentive father. If they're going to be out and about together, he almost always takes Dapper's input on where they go and what they do.

He knows Dapper is talented player, who knows more than he does sometimes, while still recognizing when Dapper forgets his own limits. He's still a kid, and a fragile one. But that doesn't mean putting him away in a box, like Phil has done with Chayanne. That means finding ways to be safe, having extra backup plans, extra people you trust by your side. They're on together almost every night, even past or before streaming times.

Bad is the egg babysitter, he goes out of his way to do things for them because he genuinely is such a compassionate person. He's also dedicated to solving the lore, to pranking his friends, to building Skeppy statues, and everything else.

Dapper is the mechanic, a collector who isn't ashamed to help others and leave them a gift or a silly prank along the way. He's a kid, who fights with his dad and keeps a journal of how all his machines work, just in case.

A lot of times, when people want to thank Bad for his help, they wonder, "what do you give someone who has everything?" And truth be told I have no idea what I'd do. It never feels like Bad has everything, but rather, it feels like he has everything he really wants. Bad has Dapper, and together, they're able to accomplish almost anything. That's what I think makes them so compelling.

I occasionally scroll through Twitter and see people talking about how they want the egg event to end. I can respect that to a degree, I think it's ended up with some streamers quite stressed, tired, or receiving harassment. However, I feel like Bad and Dapper are the perfect example of why you can't just tear the eggs from their parents - Dapper is as much a character as Bad is. They're a duo, they compliment one another in their skills, their personalities, ect.

It's Bad and Dapper against the world.

And I really hope they find a way to allow them to stay that way.

[kyseya]

Backstory - farm brothers

So it’s fairly clear that Weston and Lucas are not normal people. Surprise, surprise they’re killers. I wanted to have a little Texas chainsaw massacre slasher vibe but don’t know if that worked very well.

Basically they lure(or people just end up there by themselves) folk to their farm and kill them. Though there are instances where they let some walk away without a scratch, but that’s only if they’re needed, will definitely be missed and could potentially be traced back there, and haven’t the slightest clue what’s truly going on at the farm. The Callaghan brothers can’t have anyone running their mouth, you know.

Their parents were pieces of shit and only had kids to lessen the work load. The farm belonged to their fathers side of the family. their mother had never planned to marry their father but an unexpected pregnancy and pressure from others made them stay together. The two of them were miserable with each other, always fighting and blaming the other partner. The mother was mostly mad about having to spend the rest of her days on a ‘dirty farm’ and work. The father hated being married to a vile, selfish woman who barely helped with anything. His own parents were old and his siblings had quickly moved far away to prevent having anything to do with the farm, which meant everything landed on him.

It was the mother who began using her son as a helping tool. Tasks like sweeping, feeding the animals, collecting the eggs and cooking simple meals were passed to him. At first, when Weston’s dad found out he was furious. But not because it came at Weston’s expense, no, it was because he saw it as a sign of ultimate laziness.

The earliest memories Weston has is of his parents fighting over him. He remembers when his father would reprimand his mother about using him to do her labour(he wanted her to suffer the same tiring days he does) while she screamed back. But then it stopped and his father would no longer complain. Nearly a year after that his little brother was born, and of course he became the one taking care of him after he didn’t have to nurse anymore.

Lucas followed his older brother everywhere. He was his second shadow when he went around and did his chores. It was fine with weston, he wouldn’t admit it but it became a comfort knowing he was a hero to someone. It made life easier. Unfortunately their parents wanted to put Lucas to work too, the moment they considered him old enough. That wasn’t the worst part though. Their mood soured significantly over the years and they verbally abused them on a daily basis, a couple shoves and blows were hard to avoid. You’d think they’d be happier with the easier load.

Weston would have been able to take it ifd only been him, but seeing his younger sibling being treated as dirt too, that wouldn’t fly. The hatred grew stronger each day. When it had boiled over the edge, the older one had decided on a plan. They would kill their parents. Sadly, they were too young at the moment, there was no way they’d be able to overpower two adults as they currently were. They would have to wait until they were older. And so they did. Years they waited for the right opportunity. The abuse and work never stopped, in fact, the older they got the more take they had to preform. Eventually everything was done by them and nothing was done by their parents. They finally got what they wanted, total freedom from the harsh farm life.

The day Weston told Lucas the plan to kill their parents, he had expected a little pushback from him, but he was surprised when Lucas was totally in on it. One might say he was even excited.

It was really easy to murder them. You just had to corner each one when they were alone and then slice their neck. The kids had far outgrown the adults, they were no match for them anymore.

After their mother and fathers death the brothers took over the farm. Despite all the bad memories they still liked it there. It was rather peaceful(especially when no one criticised you on how to feed the pigs), plus, they didn’t have much of an education beyond reading and writing. Where would they even go? At least on the farm they had food and shelter.

The killing didn’t stop though. It appeared the first murder had awakened something in the both of them. They both had found out they enjoyed it. The power and pleasure in seeing their parents fear stricken faces was too good of a high not to experience again.

Although, they might make one exception to the killing if you’re cute enough~

[megwritesriddles]

Caught Inbetween ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sebastian (Stardew Valley) x Fem! Reader / You x Sam (Stardew Valley)

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 3 - Threesome. Abigail goes home early from game night, leaving Reader alone with the two boys for the night, only, Sam is acting a little too friendly.

Tags: Threesome F/M/M, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Praise kink, Handjob, Pet names, Overstimulation, Multiple orgasms, Munch! Sam AND Seb, Friends to lovers, No action between Sam and Sebastian, PWP, No plot, Mentions of smoking.

Word count: 3.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Considered making it a Challengers vibe and having Sam and Seb be a bit gay, but opted to have them focus on the reader!! Also I hope it's not too painfully obvious that I've never had a threesome lol!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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“Do you really have to go?” You pouted in the doorway as Abigail pulled her shoes on. She gave you an exasperated smile, deftly tying her laces. “Don’t leave me alone with two boys!” you whine playfully. She stands and nudges you with her elbow.

“It’s Sam and Seb, how bad can it be? I used to hang with them alone all the time before you moved here,” she reaches behind you for her coat on the hook, and you continue pouting.

“Oh come on… you’re sure your dad won’t let you off of opening duty?” you give her your best puppy dog eyes. She just scoffs and playfully slaps your arm.

“Yes, I’m sure, now I– Oh! Hey Seb,” you follow her eyeline to where Sebastian ascends the final stairs from his basement, shaking a box of cigarettes.

“Going for a smoke, I’ll walk you out Abi,” he grunts, slipping on his shoes and yanking his black jacket off of the hook. You step aside as he heads past you to the door. “I’ll be back in ten,” he glances at you over his shoulder before shoving open the door and heading out into the dark misty evening. You wonder if you imagined how his eyes had flicked down your body just then, shaking off the thought. You wave poutily to Abigail as she heads out behind him, she sticks her tongue out and waves back at you. The cool air pushes its way in forcefully through the door making you shiver, you yank it shut with a loud thud, before turning and hopping down the stairs back to Sebastian’s basement room. Sam is lounging on the small couch when you reappear, flicking uninterestedly through one of Sebastian’s computer magazines, the game of Solarion Chronicles from earlier discarded on the table now that Abigail has gone home.

“Oh thank God, I was beginning to think everyone had abandoned me,” Sam jokes, sitting up straight and tossing the magazine to the ground. You chuckle, walking over to sit beside him at his patted invitation. “I can always count on you,” he comments with a grin. You rest your head on the back of the couch, smiling up at him. “You look a little tired,” he frowns. You glare at him for that comment but sigh in defeat.

“Farming isn’t for the weak,” you grumble, rubbing your forehead for a moment. “It’s nice to get away from it for a little while,”

“I bet it is,” he coos, you give him a suspicious glance at his sickly sweet tone. He places a hand on your shoulder and draws you closer. “Here, let me rub your shoulders,” he suggests gently. As suspicious as you are of his actions, you can’t deny that you need a massage. You figure he’s just going to ask you to bake him some maple bars or something, and you don’t mind, considering you’re planning to bake tomorrow anyway. So, you turn around and relax your body as he pushes your hair aside and starts to gently work the muscles of your neck. His hands cup your shoulders, his thumbs digging into your neck, rubbing at the sore stiff muscles. It feels good, so good that you can’t stop your eyes from closing and a few little groans from escaping your lips, which only seem to egg him on. He rubs harder and hums softly. “God, you’re stiff,” he whispers against your ear. His tone gives you pause, your eyes fluttering back open. Had you imagined it or had he said that sort of… seductively? You turn your head slightly, trying to meet his eye, he just smiles lazily at you. “Stay still,” he chastises playfully, turning your head back around with care. He resumes his work, his thumbs slipping under the collar of your sweater to rub your shoulders. You groan again despite yourself, you really were stiff…

The door opening gets your attention, and you flush like you’ve been caught doing something inappropriate, even though nothing untoward is happening. Sebastian raises a brow at the two of you as he walks in. He walks over and sits down in front of you on the couch, smirking at you slightly. He glances behind you to meet Sam’s eye, looking like he knows something you don’t. As if in response to this look, Sam rubs his thumbs into your muscles a little harder, making you choke out a small sound. You feel embarrassed, but the boys just smile knowingly at one another, making you even more flustered.

“Our poor little farmer is all stiff and tired,” Sam coos gently from behind you. Sebastian pouts at you in response, you want to ask questions but the attractiveness of his pout keeps you quiet. Sebastian moves closer to you and you feel your breathing speed up as both boys crowd into your space. Sebastian’s hand comes up, pushing some hair away from your cheek, letting his fingertips linger. Your face twists in confusion for a moment before you break into a disbelieving smirk. They were trying to seduce you, together. This was certainly a change of pace. Sebastian smiles back at you almost shyly as Sam massages you, sensing you’ve figured them out.

“So, what’s all this really about?” you ask accusingly, glancing between them, but they can hear you’re not really angry. Sam chuckles in your ear.

“You’re too perceptive,” he sighs, gently removing his hands from your shoulders. You turn so you can look between the two of them, they both look a little bashful now. “We never usually get a chance to get you alone without Abi,” he comments.

“And you look so beautiful,” Sebastian adds breathlessly. “We’ve always thought so,” you blush gently.

“Let us help you… destress…” Sam purrs. “We’ll make it so good for you,” he promises, placing his hand on your thigh gently.

“Both of you?” you confirm. When they nod in response, you feel yourself shiver at the thought. You’ve never really considered a threesome before, but now that the opportunity was in front of you, you felt yourself growing wetter by the second. You’d fantasised about both of them separately throughout your time as their friend, but now your brain was supplying you with an enticing mashup of these thoughts. Sebastian carefully wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean against his chest, sitting between his legs. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, the scent of his cologne and the surprisingly enticing scent of cigarettes engulfing you completely, leaving you almost lightheaded.

“Will you let us?” he asks you quietly, his voice strained like it’s taking him a horrible effort to hold back from you. You breathe heavily as Sam places his hands on your knees, rubbing gently. Your eyes meet his and you see the lust there, the lust you feel mirrored in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll… let you,” you pant slightly. You immediately feel Sebastian's lithe fingers caressing your jaw, turning your head towards his own. He glances over your features for a moment before capturing your lips with his own. You whine softly as he kisses you desperately, his hands sliding up and down your sides. Your eyes shut, leaning back into Sebastian to get closer. His lips taste like mint, suggesting he had some gum after smoking in preparation to kiss you. It makes you smile softly. You feel fingers on your jaw, turning your head again and Sam is suddenly right in front of you, his eyes wide, pupils swallowing his irises. His lips are on yours swiftly, kissing with less control than Sebastian had, one hand cupping your cheek. You wonder in the back of your mind if he can taste the mint from Sebastian’s spit. You hear Sebastian breathing heavily by your ear, watching as Sam kisses you feverishly. His hand sneaks down your body while you’re distracted, sliding into the waistband of your pants and your panties. You gasp shakily as his fingertip trails up and down your wet folds, getting a feel for you. He groans softly as he gathers up some wetness and brings it up so he can more easily tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan into your kiss with Sam at his barely there stimulation.

“She’s so wet Sam,” he exhales. You whine in embarrassment, Sebastian just kisses your neck soothingly in response. Sam withdraws from your lips, taking in how they’re pink and glossy from his kisses.

“Gotta see,” he grunts, leaning back to tug at your pants. You can’t believe what’s happening as you lift your hips, allowing him to bare your most intimate parts. His eyes flutter and he practically chokes at the sight of you as he gently spreads your legs, watching Sebastian’s finger swirl over you, making you twitch. “She’s soaked,” he whimpers. “You must really want us, eh pretty girl? He chuckles slightly, eyes fixed between your legs.

“Shut up,” you mumble weakly, moaning softly as Sebastian applies a little more pressure. Both boys chuckle at you and you find yourself laughing too, or at least trying to through the soothing pleasure.

“Didn’t you say you’d always wanted to eat her out?” Sebastian muses to Sam. You file away the realisation that they’ve talked about this seemingly extensively for later. Sam nods eagerly.

“Good call,” he mumbles, lowering himself so his head is between your legs. You gasp as his breath washes over your core, making you clench around nothing. Sebastian removes his finger, shuffling you back and tighter against his chest so Sam can settle more comfortably between your thighs. Sam begins to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, eyes glued to the glistening prize between your legs. “Please say I can taste you,” he groans. You just whine needily, but he seems to understand it fine, leaning in and licking a thick stripe over you, just to taste you. You both moan in unison as he does it. “Fuck… so perfect,” he dives in, bringing his hand up to spread you open, gently swirling his tongue over you. Sebastian is tugging your sweater over your head, but you barely register it over the sensations between your legs. There’s a soft thud as your sweater hits the floor, quickly followed by your bra, leaving you completely naked. Sebastian's hands roam all over your torso as Sam laps up at you relentlessly, moaning periodically at the taste of you. He holds your thighs open as they keep threatening to close around his head as you writhe and tense from his ministrations. Sebastian’s lips are on yours again, greedily swallowing up your moans and whines as Sam flicks his tongue quickly back and forth over your clit. Sebastian cups your breasts roughly as you arch up into his touch.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles against your lips. “You look and sound gorgeous baby,” Sam grunts in agreement against you, making you shiver. The room fills with obscene slurping noises as Sam begins to suckle at your clit. You cry out, your whole body tensing and your thighs fighting to close again. “Just let it happen, baby,” Sebastian coaxes, softly circling his thumbs over your hardened nipples. The mixture of sensations is proving a lot to fight off, the rhythmic pattern of sucks and licks Sam is giving you making you feel lightheaded and tightening the knot in your stomach until it finally snaps and you scream. Whatever comes out of your mouth is some sort of odd mix of both of their names, but they seem to thoroughly enjoy it anyway. Sam moans in response, lapping at your release feverishly, savouring every single drop even as you start to shake for slight overstimulation. He finally withdraws, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. Sebastian shuffles behind you, gently laying you down on the couch as he wordlessly moves to where Sam just was. You look down at him, dazed. “Hope you saved some for me, pretty girl,” he teases, wrapping his arms under your body to hold you in place, placing a few feather-light kisses onto your swollen bud, making you whine and buck. He smiles and chuckles. “You did a good job down here, Sam,”

“Of course, anything for our pretty girl,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead as Sebastian begins teasing you ever so gently with his tongue. Your entire body is flushed and glistening with perspiration by this point, but both boys admire you like you’re some sort of treasure. You kiss Sam slowly for a while, tasting your release on his tongue as Sebastian lavishes you with gentle attention, careful not to overwhelm you, but to still bring you more and more pleasure. One of your hands moves down into Sebastian's hair, gripping gently, you feel him smile against you and the feeling is oddly erotic. Sam takes the wrist of your other hand, kissing your palm a few times as he undoes his jeans and frees himself from his boxers before lowering your hand onto him. You’re momentarily surprised but quickly regain yourself, softly wrapping your hand around his length, and starting to pump gently. He groans erotically, twitching in your hand, already sticky with pre-cum. “You have no idea how much we’ve fantasised about this,” Sam grunts, thrusting up into your hand a little. You just whimper in response, tightening your grip slightly. Sebastian is watching the two of you closely, his tongue still drawing slow patterns against you.

“Every night for weeks,” Sebastian adds, his voice vibrating against you. “Sam was right, you taste heavenly,” he groans. You laugh breathlessly, concentration on your hand movements becoming harder as Sebastian starts to lick more intently now. Sam caresses your hair as your head falls to the side, becoming overwhelmed by the sensations once more. Your hand speeds up on Sam’s cock to make up for what you know is coming. Copying what Sam had done to drive you mad, Sebastian starts to suckle against you, albeit more gently. It has the same effect anyway due to the previous orgasm. You tug at Sam harder and he chokes out a guttural noise, fucking into your fist as you falter, your second orgasm of the night overtaking you. You throw your head back into the couch in a silent scream, your hips stuttering wildly up against Sebastian’s mouth. He pulls away abruptly once you’ve ridden it out, and you think you’re getting a break, but no such luck, not that you’re really complaining. Sebastian sits up on his knees between your legs, gripping your hips and pulling them up. You squeak in surprise as his tip prods against your entrance, sliding inside with minimal resistance, due to the lubrication provided by your orgasm. He meets a little more resistance deeper inside, carefully pushing through it, bottoming out. He takes a deep shaky breath, looking utterly blissful.

“Tell me how she feels,” Sam begs, still softly fucking your hand like a dog in heat. His words remind you of your motionless hand and you start to move it again, twisting gently. Sam whines loudly and you feel Sebastian twitch inside you.

“Oh… she’s perfect… warm and wet and heavenly,” Sebastian gasps. “Everything we ever dreamed,” both you and Sam keen at these words. Sebastian grips your hips and starts to move gently. You’re already over-sensitive from two orgasms, so he’s being careful with you, despite his clear need for more. He grunts and whines as he fucks into you and you’re happy to realise he’s close to falling apart already, not feeling so bad that your third orgasm is already approaching. You focus on Sam for a little while, keeping up the twisting motion he seems to enjoy so much, he stares down at you looking desperate and lost in pleasure. You use one of your hands to shakily prop yourself up, letting yourself reach to gently kitten lick at his tip. He curses breathlessly at this, and Sebastian seems to like the display too, his pace picking up without even meaning to. You moan, your whole body shaking as Sebastian fucks you, trying your best to keep up your licks. His pre-cum coats your tongue and you like the taste more than you ever expected to, moaning softly. Suddenly, he’s pulling away from you hurriedly and you’re momentarily confused until he groans and spills all over your chest. You laugh breathlessly as his cock twitches above you without even being touched. Sebastian's dark eyes lock onto your cum-covered chest and he growls, fucking you faster and deeper. You whine loudly, grabbing at the couch for purchase as he seemingly goes a little feral. Panting, Sam kneels beside you, taking your hands into his own. You squeeze them hard, your eyes rolling back.

“You’re doing perfect pretty girl,” he coos soothingly as your face scrunches up in pleasure. He kisses you, seemingly unphased by his hands being crushed in yours. You kiss back desperately, feeling Sebastian slamming into you more forcefully as he gets closer. “Want my touch on your clit?” Sam asks gently, you nod frantically and he lowers his hand to rub at your swollen clit. You immediately clench around Sebastian's cock and with a few more sloppy thrusts, Sebastian pulls out and spills his seed all over your abdomen with a loud whimper. Sam coaxes you to the finish line again and you sob violently with the sensation, burying your head in his shoulder. Finally, once you’ve all calmed down a little and caught your breath, Sebastian gets up on shaky legs to fetch a rag. Sam embraces you as you wait, kissing all over your face, and whispering various praises. You melt into his arms, nodding along to his sweet words. “You were perfect for us, you must be so tired baby, sweet girl,”

Sebastian reappears, sitting down beside you and gently wiping you clean of both of their releases with the damp warm cloth. He presses a couple of reverential kisses to your stomach once it’s clean, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to your lips as Sam embraces you. Sebastian wraps you in a blanket to keep out the winter chill that is sneaking in now that you’re not so overheated with arousal. You feel incredibly tired and unsure how things will progress from here, what will this do to your friendship? What kind of relationship will this be? But one thought stands out as they settle themselves on the couch with you between them, both holding you close.

“I’m actually glad that Abi went home,”

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xoxoxo

[lunajay33]

Precious🩵

Summary: Reader gets separated from Daryl at the start and finds a farm with a wonderful family, she finds out she’s pregnant and one thing leads to another and a new group settles onto the farm

•Masterlist•

I waited for Daryl at our little house in the small town we grew up in, I had been gone to the city for the day when everything happened, I was able to find a car and drive back home praying that Daryl would be there waiting for me but I knew it would be a long shot, I waited for a few days until the food ran out and decided if I was ever going to find him again then I’ll have to go find him myself

So I pack up my bag with essentials, clothes, water, snacks that were left over and weapons for Daryl’s hunting collection, I drove for what felt like forever no signs of human life only blood and rotting corpses who some how took over the earth

I came to the interstate seeing the cars upon cars piled up blocking my way so I turned around hoping to find a back road to get around when I spotted a sign “Greene’s Farm” if the farm was still standing maybe it could have some food or more water, as I pulled up the drive way to a large white farm house people filtered out, it felt surreal to see people, live people

I got out of the car as the came down the stairs, it was an older man a girl around my age and a younger blonde, then what seemed to be an older couple and a younger boy

“How’d you find this place?” The man with the white hair asked

“I’ve been on the road looking for my husband, I got turned around in the road and saw your farm sign, I just need some rest” I say as I run my hand down my belly

When I went to the city when everything happened I found out I was pregnant and I was over the moon about finally starting a family with Daryl but now I’m scared, scared about delivery, this baby never meeting their wonderful father

The man noticed my movement and his harsher demeanor changed to one of pity

“Come dear we’ll get something set up for you”

They let me settle in the spare room after feeding me some eggs and fresh fruit, the house was cozy and they are lovely people but I can’t help that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when Daryl would be gone too long, he always soothed me even if he didn’t talk much he showed me comfort with actions of love and care

Whenever he scrounged up enough money he’d buy me little gifts, he got me a silver necklace with a bow on it which I never take off, I never got a wedding ring because I refused and said we should keep the money for the future and that I don’t need some diamond to show my love for him

“Knock knock” I look up to the doorway and see Maggie standing there with a wide smile

“Daddy wanted me to check on you, well both of you”

“Oh yes I think we’re okay, I only found out about two weeks ago”

“That’s when you first had symptoms?” She asked as she sat next to me on the bed

“Yeah, the nausea and a little bump”

“I’d say you’re about two months pregnant then, signs only show up later, does the father know?” I shock my head feeling my heart clench in pain

“I never got the chance, I don’t even know where he is but somehow in my heart I believe we will find our ways back to each other” she ran a comforting hand up my back and smiled

“You’ll find him sweetheart you never know what might happen!” She said before she left the room giving me space to finally rest

It’s been 2 months now on the farm and it was peaceful for some reason this farm has gone untouched from the world that’s filled with death, I haven’t stopped looking for Daryl, every other day I’d search farther and farther out but there was no sign, as I was walking back to the farm I saw two men and Otis running through the field, I got back to the house and Maggie told me of everything that was happening, Otis accidentally shot the boy who Hershel was working on now

I sat outside on the steps as the young boys father came out obviously in shock covered in blood, he sat next to me completely disheveled, I took a rag I had in my pocket and wiped some blood he smeared on his face

“Hershel is a good surgeon and a great man, your son is in good hands” my words seemed to calm him down and what he needed right now was a distraction it seems

“I remember when my wife found out she was pregnant with Carl, we were young but I was excited this little life was gonna be born, so how far along are you?”

“About 4 months now, I’m not sure if it’s a boy or girl, I got separated from the father when I found out but I’ve kept looking, I know he’s out there, he’s a stubborn man but god is he strong and pretty smart too”

“Yeah I know the type, got a man like that back in our group, we lost a little girl and he’s been looking for her day and night”

“Maggie should be back soon she must have found your group by now, it’ll be okay” almost as if she heard me I see her horse ride up the field with cars following, then I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and it brought back so many memories I had with Daryl, when he’d work on his bike I’d sit with him, when we’d go for a drive at night together, moments I kept dear to my heart, zoned out in nostalgic thought I didn’t notice the group coming to the steps

“Y/n?” The grumble to the voice that I fell in love with, I look up to see him standing there just as the day I last saw him still as handsome, I couldn’t stand up fast enough before I was pulled off the stairs and into his arms

“I can’t believe it’s you, I looked everywhere, I missed you so much Daryl” I cried into his shoulder as his group was most likely watching this moment unwind

“It’s me sunshine, I found ya” he pulled back and we just looked into each others eyes for some time before he looked me over stopping abruptly on my belly

He opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a lose for words

“It’s yours if that’s what you’re wondering?”

“My baby?” He asked placing his hands on either side of my bump

“Yeah our lil baby Dixon”

After everything settled down and people set up tents I decided to stay with Daryl since they were using my room for Carl, I was sitting across from him on my sleeping bag and he couldn’t take his eyes off my bump

“Do you want to feel?” He thought for a moment before he nodded, I lifted my ivory dress just above my belly feeling his warm hands caress my bare skin

“How did this happen?”

“Well remember that night you came back from the bar with Merle and I was wearing my pink sundress you love” realization dawned as a blush crossed his face

“Yeah that’s how it happened” I laugh missing how easily it is to embarrass him

“Where have you been?” I asked as we laid next to each other

“Found a camp outside of Atlanta with Merle, idiot went and got himself stuck on a roof don’t know where he is now, then we went to the CDC and that was a bust then that leads to now finally some sanity with ya”

“I’m just glad you didn’t get bite, the farms been secure so I haven’t had any troubles”

“And ya never have to with me ‘round”

It’s been 6 months and Daryl and I had a beautiful 1 month old baby girl, it was painful giving birth but with Daryl by my side it made it a bit easier, hopeful

She was a wonderful little thing, barely fussy, brown hair light blue eyes just like Daryl, and he was over the moon about her he praised me over and over for giving him such a gift he treasured

We were able to move into the house to make it more comfortable for the three of us, we named her Lily because Carl thought it suited her perfectly so we just went with it

I walked into the room seeing Daryl sat on the bed with her in his arms her little hands reaching to pull on his now grown out hair, I sat beside them curling up to Daryl’s side

“She loves you so much D”

“Not as much as I love her”

“You know I think she’s your favourite”

“Nah she loves us both sunshine, I love ya”

“I love you too Daryl, forever”

[unpretty]

saw the office chicken post again. how's she doin with her new office job

-signed, a chicken lover

apparently the person who was keeping a pig in their basement sent it to a farm somewhere, so i no longer have to worry about anyone bringing a pot-belled pig to the office and expecting me to take it home

anyway, no real updates since the last time i posted but in case anyone missed it, here is the egg she laid in my lap while we were driving her home and here she is stealing peanuts from the rooster with her unusual high speed

treasurer eugenia v. pecks is a little speed demon and keeps trying to trick my spouse into thinking she's distracted so they'll open the door to the run and she can make a mad dash to try and make it to the feed bins. i cannot overstate how unusually fast she is compared to the rest of our chickens. she runs everywhere constantly at top speed. is this a habit she picked up while on the lam on the golf course, or wherever she was living in secret before then? we have no idea but it's very funny to us and not at all funny to the other hens, who want to eat in peace without her zooming past trying to steal all the corn.

[slightly-knot-insane]

The Bringer of Rain

Monstertober 2024 - day 2 [ Local folklore ] by @ozzgin

[ m!zmaj* x fem!reader ]

*The closest translation for 'zmaj' would be 'dragon', and they are generally similar in many ways. However, Slavic zmaj has no connections to fire or gold like Western ones. Zmaj is connected to storms and rain, and they are quite fond of people. More info about them after the story.

You've been with him for days. Or was it weeks? You aren't really sure anymore. Days have melted into short moments of sleep, drowsy periods of wakefulness, and intense hours of sex and orgasms.

You are tired. Your body aches for rest and relaxation, but you can't get enough of him. You expect him every moment to come to your room, sneaking in through windows, underneath door gaps, through cracks in walls. He always takes human shape, and appears in front of you naked and hard.

"I had to see you," he says this every time he lays his radiating eyes on you. His arms are already all over you. He seems so desperate, so parched, as if he hasn't seen your for months. "I must have you again."

And he does - oh-so-hard. His stamina is incredible. He can pound your every hole for hours, holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He's not supposed to be spending this much time with you. He is supposed to gather clouds and bring fertalizing rain to the fields and farms. But all his been doing was fertilizing your eggs.

He lifts your leg on his shoulder and kisses your knee before starting to roll his hips. Zmaj's cock is large and thick, heavily ribbed. His breaths are shallow, even and collected, while you are panting, almost gasping for air, inches away from another climax.

"Shh, be quiet, my dove." His voice is calm, but there is a hint of panic.

Loud banging on the door interrupts you. "We know he's here, that zmaj-whore!" Your uncle's voice is on verge of screaming. "Untangle yourself from him so that we can talk some senses to him."

"Shit!" Zmaj grabs you and presses you against his chest, sheltering you from something. A strange feeling washes over you and you're plummeted into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you are outside, somewhere far away from your home, but you can't see a lot since it's dark and the sky is sprinkled with stars. And all around you lays a massive presence.

"My love," zmaj whispers, and embraces you with his claws. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all. I'm so happy to see your true form." An impressive adult zmaj is glowing with a dim silver light, encircling you like a tight ouroboros.

"It was the only way to escape a nasty fight. And I needed my wings."

You shake your head. "I know. You are magnificent."

He chuckles. "I'm happy you think so. But I should return you to—"

You abruptly stand up and hold his snout. "Return me? Before saying a proper goodbye? I could never forgive you."

Zmaj blinks in confusion. "Oh. I'm sorry. Of course I would never just—"

How is this magical creature so incredible, yet so dumb. "I want you to fuck me with a proper zmaj cock, you dumb-dumb."

"Oooooooh." His long exhale was like a warm breeze and your hair billows. With a wink of his snake-like eye, he rolls over on his side. A long and pulsating silver cock is already hard for you, too heavy to stand upwards. "Come here, my sweet sparrow."

Your zmaj boyfriend is more than patient. His cooing and kisses helped you relax, and his thick tongue stretched your pussy out, and kept you moist. His saliva was warm and slick. Slowly, easily, with your permission, he slides his dick in. It is so big that it immediately inflates your stomach, and a faint glow lights your skin. He puts his hand around your waist to support you, and he lets you take his length in your own pace. He only growls and praises your bravery for wanting to try out his true form.

All you can do is moan and pant, barely coherent, as his ribbed phallus rubs against your walls. Your cunt has never been this full and this moist. "Fuck... yes... please... more..."

"You like this? You like my true form?" He shifts behind you and there is a feral change in his voice. You just whine and confirm in some pathetic way, before he takes charge and pushes his cock as far as it can go and growls, no longer verbal.

The sensation of his monstrous cock thrusting in and out, his loud breathing and smell of his sweat drive you crazy. You orgasm several times and so intensely that you eventually lose awareness and simply drown in pleasure.

When you open your eyes next time, waking up from a refreshing dream, the sun is rising. You are on your home's roof. But it wasn't the pink sky or uncomfortable ground that woke you up, but heavy drops of rain. You smile and pat your stomach swollen and heavy from zmaj's seed.

Zmaj monsters could, of course, be male or female, and they enjoyed taking human lovers. Sometimes, they would have sex with a new lover so much and often they would forget to bring rain. The angry villagers, whose crops were dying from drought, would then look for a human that looked the most ill and thin (since that would indicate they were exhausted from so much good zmaj sex). Then, the villagers would bang with pots around the lover's house to scare the zmaj back to work. Unfortunately for the poor zmaj's lover, zmaj would leave and they would never find another partner as good as zmaj was. Sometimes zmaj monsters and people would have children and they were called zmajevit. They were super strong and considered heroes (from Serbian mythology).

[bigfan-fanfic]

Worth More than Gold (Reader x Laios Touden)

@alex126486 Reader first meeting laios in gold scraping , reader listens laios fascination on monsters and what they tasted like then asking he could cook one for him one day

"Do you remember? Back when we first started out with gold scraping?" You chuckle over at the tallman.

Laios doesn't look up from where he sits preparing the rest of the vegetables from Senshi's garden for you to fry up with the last of the basilisk meat and egg you're making. "Remember what?"

it's always been exciting being around Laios.

You were one of the Touden Party's three mages. Marcille with her explosive fire specialty, Falin with her cleric powers, and you with a specialty in protection and gnomish magic.

You once worked together with him as part of a gold-scraping band.

And it was then that he began talking to you all about his fascination towards monsters.

Little facts about the creatures you would face.

And when you gave no indication of disgust, Laios took the opportunity and ran with it, happily expounding upon monster features for hours upon end.

And when it became clear that you enjoyed his sessions of information -

he began to speculate with you about how monsters tasted.

Would a cockatrice taste more like chicken or more like reptile?

Do strangling plants have sweeter fruits than man-eating plants?

"Who knows? Maybe one day I'll cook you one."

Laios' jaw dropped, and he looked almost about to cry before he nodded seriously.

"That sounds great! What are you thinking of cooking?"

And years later, after traveling with Senshi deeper and deeper into the dungeon, you remember your offhand little promise.

"I once said I'd cook a monster for you. Way back when we were gold scraping."

Laios beams, and you know he never forgot. "I did! I didn't think you had."

"I hadn't, til just now. It must be so much fun for you to discover all the answers to the questions you've had."

Laios nods. "It's a dream come true!"

He glances over at a glum Marcille. "Though of course, saving Falin's the top priority."

"Of course." You nod. "Though if I can be honest, I've really enjoyed the stuff you and Senshi have made."

"That's great!"

"I know Marcille and Chilchuck tend to be squeamish about it-"

("Hey!" Marcille whines)

"-but I dunno. So-called 'normal' animals are pretty weird and gross too, but we eat them. Farming can be nasty too, what with fertilizer, but we don't consider crops gross. It's all just... part of a cycle. If you can make it taste good and it's safe to eat, then why not?"

Laios looks at you with something akin to awe. Chilchuck and Marcille look as though they have lost an ally to madness.

"Anyway, try this. I wanna know if I seasoned it enough." You hurriedly say, seeing Laios still looking at you with that strange expression.

He opens his mouth, seemingly expecting you to... feed him?

So you do, resting the chunk of cooked egg and meat on his tongue, feeling his mouth close around your fingers.

So innocuous, but so intimate, your fingertips compressed as his mouth moves from them, slipping out from the corners.

Part of you is going crazy, thinking one thought - that you've just put your fingers in a teammate's mouth and he just... ate from them. His lips touched your fingers.

His eyes flash up to yours. "Mmmmmm! That's perfectly seasoned."

"Oh! Uh... good." you feel your face heating. Chilchuck smirks over at you. "Good. Those vegetables, then?"

He happily hands them to you.

"Thank you."

"Hmm?"

"For keeping your promise. For cooking. For feeding me."

It's an odd way of phrasing it, but you enjoy the sentiment. "You are welcome, Laios... anytime."

He grins, and leans in close. "You might even be better at cooking than Senshi. It might just be that tallmen have different palates and spices they like, but I love it when you cook."

"I, uh... thanks. That means a lot."

You all but flee to prepare the stir-fry, lowering your gaze, smiling to yourself.

Maybe nothing happened yet, and he's just being nice.

But the friend you've had a crush on since those days of gold-scraping has just practically kissed your hand and complimented your cooking.

And that is worth far more than any gold.

[hawkinshorror94]

Headcannons for a Tav who exhausted after a day of staying home with the kids

(If you guys like these I'd like to make a second one with Wyll, Karlach, Zevlor, and Rolan.)

AN- Happy Birthday to me! I am highly intoxicated while posting this so sorry if it sucks ASS.

Minthara

-”My dear, why are our children making so much noise? I cannot hear myself think.”

-Finds you in absolute shambles over two unruly toddlers, one is crying because you gave her what he asked for and the other is practically hanging from the curtains.

-”In Menzoberranzan, a mother kills children who are bad, but I have grown quite fond of them and would hate for our children to meet an untimely demise at the end of a silver sword.” 

-Though you want to chide Minthara for threatening to kill the kids as a punishment it works, but you’ll definitely have to talk about it with her later

Gale

-“Why are you crying, are you alright, is she alright?” *Gale panic*

-Finds you in bed crying because of some awful postpartum.

-”My mother has been wanting to see her, I’ll bring her over there for a bit. You rest, you bathe, I’ll bring home food. I’ve got her. I’ve got you.”

-Gale bundles her up and makes sure you have everything that you need before he goes. When he comes back, he brings too many gifts from his mother and food for you. And of course, your favorite sweet treat.

Astarion

-“Are there gremishkas loose in our home?”

-Astarion wakes from trance around sundown to find you crying over a fussy teething dhampir and an equally whiny toddler who didn’t have a nap. 

-”Do you think we should go to the night market, little one? And I think your baby brother would also appreciate the night air as well” *Astarion with a baby bundled to his chest (with a sling) so he can always have a free hand in my guilty pleasure*

-When he comes back with both kids settled, he puts you to bed to rub your feet and tell you how much he appreciates you creating two miracles after he’s had such a miserable life.

Shadowheart

-”Come on boys, you can help mummy on the farm this afternoon.”

-Shadowheart wasn’t blind to your snippy tone with her and she also wasn’t blind to the problem either. 2 over ecstatic boys who were just over the moon that school was out for the summer. 

-”Tomorrow you all can help me tend to the plants and animals all day. Does that sound fun?” 

-Shadowheart will smother you in kisses that night after you’re finally a little less overstimulated, if you ask maybe she’ll do some of those Sharran torture tactics on you after the boys are tucked in of course.

Halsin

-”They are children, my heart. They are untamed beasts.”

-Halsin will laugh and kiss your forehead as if you’re the silliest of geese, but he’ll still take out all of the adopted children, just to give you a much needed break.

-The kids come back with every rock, flower, and stick that made them think of you. Each one of them telling you of the adventures daddy Halsin had taken them on that day.

-”It is my job as your husband to care for the children as well, my heart. Just tell me if you need a break.” 

Lae’zel

-“Xan, your mother is the liberator of our people and you’re treating her like any common istik.”

- Lae’zel takes the overzealous boy out to run him through some drills. When he comes back inside he’s tired and remembers why you’re his favorite parent. 

-”I told him we don’t make women cry. Especially our mothers and then I made him do twenty sword swings.”

-Xan doesn’t like swords so he will definitely not be acting a fool like that again. 

-*I wasn’t really sure what to do with Lae’zel because I didn’t raise the egg with her. We did hot lesbian gith and bard stuff And by stuff, I mean fighting Vlaakith’s warriors. 

[eiightysixbaby]

rise and shine

pairing: farmhand!jonathan x farmer’s daughter!fem!reader

jonathan works on your father’s farm, and you’re strictly forbidden to mess around with him. but on a sweltering summer day one thing leads to the next, and i guess what your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him… (5.5k)

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, use of petnames, jonathan’s nickname for reader is ‘birdie’, this is filthyyyy so pls let me know if i forgot anything lol

a/n: farmhand!jonathan was born during a conversation with @onegirlmanytales, so this one is for you gia. our beautiful beautiful boy <3 as always, reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! love u guys xoxo

The heat is already unbearable, and the sun is barely even up. The kind of dry, suffocating warmth that steals your breath and makes you feel sluggish.

A golden morning glow is cast across the fields as Jonathan stomps towards the barn, the rubbery soles of his boots crunching against dry grass. He heaves open the heavy metal latch to the thick wooden door, inhaling the stale, overwhelming scent of the animals. He’s mostly used to the smells by now, though they’re amplified on the brutally hot days like this one.

He starts his path from one stall to the next. His favorite horse, Nimbus, presses her hoof into the dusty dirt of the barn floor, chortling at him. A smile graces his features as he reaches a hand out to stroke her long snout, palm flat against the bristly softness of her coat.

“Hey, girl. Good morning,” he speaks softly to her, and she nuzzles into his hand. He gives her a few extra scratches for good measure before he continues to walk through and greet the rest of the bunch.

There's three other horses in this barn, along with the cows. The rabbits have their own coop outside, as do the chickens and ducks. He knows the morning routine like the back of his hand, and he floats through his tasks as if on autopilot. The animals get kisses and pats from him, snacks and fresh water. Even as he sweats through his clothes, he feels at peace caring for them all.

All of the animals seem to like him; even the ones with the wildest tempers turn mild when he's around. He tries to be modest about this, but his mom and brother definitely hear him gush about it when he comes home from a long day. He can’t help it, he’s a little bit proud of himself.

He's collecting eggs from the hens when he spots you. Beautiful, bright, perfect you flouncing down the porch steps in your pretty sundress, the fabric adorned with what he assumes are tiny flowers but can't quite discern from this distance. The yellow metal watering can sways in your hand, clanking against the concrete slab beneath the water spout as you set it down.

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s been staring until you turn to him with a cheery wave.

“Mornin’ Jonathan!” you call, and he feels his cheeks flush with warmth at the realization of being caught.

He waves, a half smile gracing his lips. “Morning, Birdie.”

The nickname is one he’d given you after he caught you awake early one morning, feeding the birds and taking notes about each type that visited your porch. He’d approached as quietly as he could so as not to disturb them, and he let you show him the feathers you’d collected and the sketches you’d done of the creatures. He marveled at it all, really, and unbeknownst to you it only made him more smitten for you.

If he's honest with himself, the best moments of his days working the ranch are when he sees you. He thinks about you constantly, and he has - on more than one occasion - come home smiling giddily about an interaction he'd had with you only to blush profusely when his brother would tease him.

The problem here, is your father. He’s the owner of the ranch and thus is Jonathan's employer, an under-the-table type of situation, and the man is protective as all hell of you. The last thing he needs to do is breach your father’s trust and risk his job. He thinks maybe he'd also be risking his life.

But the way the sunlight makes your complexion shine, bouncing off your skin radiantly makes his knees buckle. Your smile when you look at him makes his palms sweat. The soft sound of your humming floating towards him makes his heart soar.

You make him forget all of his inhibitions. And it's equal parts exciting and terrifying.

The water trickles from the can’s spout, sparkling in the sunlight as it falls over the beautiful flowers surrounding your porch. You’re careful to give each plant more than enough water, and he watches you intently as if this is some incredibly riveting task.

When you go to refill the can a second time, he realizes that he hasn't moved in far too long. He promptly forces himself to turn on his heel, heading back to let the animals out of their pens to graze. His footsteps feel mechanical, like he has a tinier version of himself controlling his body from a panel inside of his brain.

Don't be a moron, he thinks to himself. Be fucking cool.

He busies himself by cleaning out each of the pens within the barn, sweeping the old ruddy broom along the brown dirt floors, watching as its dry bristles occasionally fall off in its trail. He doesn't even flinch as he shovels waste from each stable, his once squeamish demeanor having been tampered with time and experience. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stringy bangs soaked beneath the wide brim of his hat. He can feel the fabric of his soft cotton shirt already clinging to his back, a sensation that’s entirely too much in this kind of heat.

He turns around, peeking out of the barn doors. There’s no sign of you anymore, and he doesn’t see your father or anyone else either. He supposes it’s alright to take his shirt off, given there’s no one near to offend.

Little does he know, as he reaches an arm around to his back and hoists the fabric up and off, you’re watching shyly from your kitchen window. Peering through the patterned curtains, chewing on your lip. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl a straw around your glass of lemonade, lost in a trance.

Jonathan has more muscle on him than you expected, though you aren’t sure why this is a surprise to you given the hard work he does. You can see the distinct lines on his arms where his tan doesn’t reach, the result of too many days working in the sun with t-shirts on. He stretches, his shoulder blades protruding like wings, and you nearly feel yourself start to drool as his muscles flex and pull. He bends down to retrieve his hat, the unmarked surface of his back on display.

You long to feel his skin beneath your palms, to reach out and touch his back, trace a finger from one freckle to the next until you’ve created a constellation only you can see. You want to leave marks, dig your nails in until you’ve left evidence that you’ve been there.

The longer you stare, watching him as he continues tidying up, the warmer you become. You can feel a searing desire forming between your legs, bare thighs squeezing hard together beneath your tiny dress.

You aren’t sure where your father went, but you know you haven’t seen him around the barn at all this morning. How bad could it be to go out there with Jonathan, really?

The skin of your lip grows raw as your teeth wear at it further, debating your next move or rather, hyping yourself up to make it. Your body buzzes with nerves, clenching your hands into fists before opening your palms once more.

Screw it. Screw it, you're going out there.

Before you can convince yourself to stay inside and hide away from the man, you're pouring another glass of lemonade to take out to him. Slipping on your shoes and swinging open the screen door that spits you out onto your porch. Bees buzz at your sides when you pass the flowering bushes, sun searing your skin the second you're exposed to its harsh rays.

It's sweltering, that's for certain, and coming out here under the guise of bringing Jonathan something to drink is innocent enough.

He doesn't hear you approaching, your footsteps barely making a sound as you trod across the grass. He's hunched over slightly, rinsing dirt from his hands with the garden hose and a bar of soap he keeps in the barn.

“Hey,” is all that comes out of your mouth at first. He spins to face you, visibly startled by your presence. Water runs from the hose that's now soaking the parched grass where it lays, before he hastily shuts off the water supply. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you might be thirsty,” you hold the glass out to him, twisting your lips.

“Oh, t-thanks,” he stammers, accepting the offering. The glass is cold in his hand, already sweating from the heat. Droplets of water fall from the bottom of the cup and onto the ground by his boots, unable to cling to the warming surface any longer. His mouth suddenly feels dry, whether from the heat or your proximity he can't decipher, but he suspects it's the latter.

You don't move from your spot in front of him, your pretty eyes nearly sparkling as you watch him take a sip of the drink. You look like you want to pounce on him.

You watch intently as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes a few greedy swallows, your cheeks hot and feverish at all of the thoughts that swirl through your head.

“Mm,” he hums, pulling the glass rim from his lips. His eyes can't help but rake over your frame, focusing too hard on the way your dress flatters your body. “It's real sweet,” he says, gaze zoning in on your lips. How the soft layer of shiny gloss makes them look enticing, like ripe fruit ready to be picked.

Your teeth sink into the plump skin of your bottom lip, batting your lashes at him. You're toeing a dangerous line, but both of you want nothing more than to cross it.

A small noise dies in his throat, like he was going to speak but can’t bring himself to. He sets his glass down, his hands trembling slightly. You step closer to him, the heat unbearable, but you’re no longer sure if it’s the sun or your own desire warming the atmosphere. You feel two-hundred degrees, and you can guess Jonathan feels the same.

“Do you want to… take a break? You work so hard, and you must be so hot,” you say, saccharine and faux-innocent, your index finger trailing featherlight down his chest. You know what you’re doing, and he knows it, too.

“Birdie...” he warns. “Your dad—”

“Don't worry about my dad. He's not around, no one has to know,” you gaze at him, watching as he rubs a hand down his face. “I won't let anything bad happen, even if he finds out,” you add, taking his hand in yours.

You flip his palm up, running your thumb along the rough skin. He's quiet, but breathing too heavily for someone who's standing still.

God, he might regret this. But he can't bring himself to care quite enough to do anything to stop it. He knows what your next move is before it happens.

And then, in one swift motion you're pressing your lips to his, closing the gap between your bodies. His bare chest pressed to your clothed one, his breath catching in his throat. He feels himself melt into you just as you pull away.

You blink at him, having stepped just slightly backward. Instantly he's wishing you'd come back. Like now that he’s had one taste of you, he can’t fathom going another second without it. Your gaze stays focused on his lips and it makes him feel like jelly, you look like you could devour him and he wants to let you. His eyes search your face rather frantically before he makes a decision.

His hands reach up to cup your face, pulling your lips back to his. He pushes you back easily until you're pressed against the outer wall of the barn, mouthing hungrily at one another beneath the scorching sun. One hand glides up your thigh, rucking up the fabric of your dress as you expose your neck to him, letting him kiss and bite at the tender skin. Tasting the sweat that beads, lapping it away with his tongue like he'd dreamt of doing for weeks.

Then, as if suddenly remembering where he is, he draws back, looking around behind him to ensure no one's there. That typical skittish demeanor creeping back in. One of his hands remains at your hip, his eyes searching yours. His nervousness makes your heart flutter.

“Should we… could we… take this into the barn?” he asks softly, making your lips twist into a small smile.

Wordlessly, you hook two fingers into his belt loops. You walk backwards, pulling him along with you until you’re sheltered inside the building. Instantly, you’re coaxing his face to yours again, pressing your lips to his in an urgent, pleading kiss.

“No one’s gonna catch us,” you murmur against soft lips. “I promise.”

And there’s no way you can be sure of that, he knows it too, but your voice sounds so soothing that he nods in agreement.

He shuts one of the rickety barn doors just to be even safer, leaving the other open for airflow before he lets his lips attach to yours once more. You kiss each other like you’re starving, affection-deprived, and before you know it he's walking you backwards and coaxing you onto the hay bales that rest in the corner. They're stacked in neat, cut rectangles, and you perch your bottom on the top one, letting Jonathan's frame slip between your legs.

The hay is scratchy against the plush backs of your thighs, but it's only a minor annoyance in your current state. A well worth it trade-off for the way Jonathan's hands caress your knees, sliding up your legs until they're pushing up the fabric of your dress. His fingertips are searing against your skin, branding you. Now that you've felt his touch, you can never go back.

Your head spins when he drops to his knees before you, your brain lagging in its attempt to catch up with what's happening. Palms splayed on your thighs, his soft brown eyes gaze up at you, pupils wide with lust. He continues to hike up your dress until it's bunched up at your hips, your pretty cotton panties staring him in the face. An index finger reaches out to flick the tiny pink bow that rests on the waistband, a soft smirk spreading across his kissable mouth.

He leans his face forward, breath fanning out over your clothed core. You flinch, eagerly anticipating his mouth on you. He sticks his tongue out, tentatively allowing it to lick a flat stripe over your panties. Gasping, your hands haphazardly push his hat off of his head, fingers tangling in his damp mop of hair. A strangled whimper clambers from his throat, his lips mouthing at your clothed cunt. The cotton fabric grows more and more moist by the second, his tongue pressing tantalizingly against it, making your back arch.

“Jonny, please—”

His fingers loop beneath the waistband of your underwear at either hip, beginning to tug them down as if to quiet you.

“Shh, angel. Don't have to beg,” he murmurs softly, shifting to bring your legs together momentarily, pulling the small bit of clothing completely off.

Back between your thighs, he eyes your bare pussy hungrily before shifting his gaze up to meet your eyes. “Gonna take such good care of you, like you deserve.”

His mouth presses a soft kiss to your mound, tongue poking out to test the waters; to get its bearings. He licks and sucks experimentally, repeating actions when you moan or whine in favor of one in particular. Perspiration prickles on every inch of your skin, the heat of the growing afternoon coupled with the fiery blaze he's set across your nerve endings making you swelter.

He grows more confident with every second, letting his tongue lick inside of you, collecting the sweetness that pools just for him. He lets out a satisfied grunt, lapping at you ravenously, your fingers pulling roughly on his hair. He seems emboldened by this, spurred on by each tug to his soft locks. Your head tips back, moaning his name at the vaulted ceiling of the barn while he teases your clit with his greedy mouth.

He pauses to take a good look at you, his cheeks beautifully flushed, his body heaving slightly as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes makes it seem like he's trying to commit your every feature to permanent memory.

“Jonathan...” you mewl, letting your hands fall loose from his hair and cradle his face instead.

Your core throbs for him, a deep incessant ache that commands to be quelled. He reads your mind, his desperation matching yours. He rises just enough for his lips to meet yours, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. The sweet tang of your arousal has you moaning into the kiss, your hand reaching down to paw at his crotch through his jeans. You gasp at the bulge that awaits you, his impatient cock pressing against its confines.

He hisses in a pleased sort of agony, the friction so glorious yet not nearly enough. Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clunky metallic buckle falling to the side. He watches you, lips parted, as you unbutton and unzip the dust-covered jeans, pushing them down his thighs. His thin boxers do very little to conceal the shape of his cock, the size catching you off guard. Your delicate palm squeezes it, reveling in the pleased noise that escapes him in response.

“Shit,” you murmur, letting the pad of your thumb roll over the head, precum leaking through the checked fabric.

His body jerks against his will, hips bucking pitifully into your hand. Your hand slips beneath the boxers, mercifully, fingers wrapping around the base of him once his cock is fully free.

You give it a few slow strokes, watching the way his eyes flutter closed. Encouraged, you pump his length faster, the corner of your mouth kicking up when he groans.

“I've - ah - I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea,” he says. “You’re so beautiful. I swear I think about you every day.” His cheeks are rosy, shy with his confession.

“I bet I’ve wanted this just as long as you have,” you reply softly, letting the pad of your thumb swipe over the leaking head of his cock, pearlescent arousal making the motion slick.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging hard into your thighs as you tease. You’re entranced by him, your eyes focused in on the deep blush pink of his erection. You can feel saliva collecting in your mouth, your nerve endings vibrating with a desire to taste him.

“Why don’t we switch spots? Come sit here, so I can take care of you,” you murmur, batting your lashes up at him as your fingers gently squeeze his shaft.

His eyelids flutter, the warm brown of his irises rolling back at the touch and at your words. He rises on shaky legs and you follow suit, guiding him to sit on the stacked bales. The perfect makeshift throne for him to sit upon, the perfect spot for you to kneel before him and worship him the way you so badly need to. Your knees touch the dusty ground, the rough barn floor uncomfortable against them. You pay it little mind, however, simply itching to get your lips on the prize that lay before you.

Jonathan looks down at you with his lip tugged slightly between his teeth. His hand brushes hair out of your face, cupping your head gently as you gaze starry-eyed up at him.

His cock twitches as if in a plea, and it draws you to him. You grip the base in one hand, sticking your tongue out flat to collect the pearly white beads of precum that drip from the slit. You make direct eye contact as you lick at him, his body jolting with pleasure at the first touch of your tongue to his most sensitive part. His hands grip at the earthy yellow straw beneath him before finding their way to your hair, conscious of keeping it out of your face.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, your soft lips wrapping around him, engulfing him in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

You hum, pleased, before beginning to bob your head. Your tongue glides along his shaft, coating him in your saliva. You take him as deep as you can, until there's a pressure at the back of your throat and your eyes water in warning. He groans in spite of himself when you gag, catching himself instantly to ask if you're okay.

You nod wordlessly, cheeks flushing at his sweetness. You want to pull more noises from him, and you continue to take him into your throat so that you gag again. His head is thrown back, cock twitching in your mouth. Your saliva drips down it, pooling at the corners of your mouth and dribbling down your chin. He notices this, wiping at the wetness on your chin with his thumb.

“God damn, Birdie. M-making such a mess,” he stammers, looking down at you with those glorious lust-blown eyes.

You hum around him once more, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. He whines at this, the tendons in his neck straining, putting all of his effort into not spilling down your throat.

“Please,” he pants. “Please let me be inside you.”

Pulling off of his cock, a string of spit connects your bottom lip to his red tip for only a moment before you swipe it away. He's bending down in an instant, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He grips your face with both hands, a strained noise clawing at his throat when your tongues dance around one another.

He pulls back after a moment, but he does so in a way that makes it seem like it physically pains him to do it. His hands paw at your waist, encouraging you up. You stand, moving between his spread knees. Climbing atop his lap, you can feel yourself throb with anticipation, your body begging to have him fill it.

His rosy cheeks, flushed from both heat and exertion, dimple slightly when he smiles at you. His eyes are flecked with gold from the sunlight that trickles through the slits in the walls, looking at you like you're the most ethereal being he's ever laid eyes on.

His hands hold your hips, bunching up your dress so it pools at the juncture between hip and thigh. You grind yourself on him, your wet heat teasing his cock.

“Oh fuck, you're so perfect,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your hair, his face burying itself at the side of your neck.

A tiny content moan escapes you, your skin ablaze where his lips press to your neck.

“Please, Jonathan,” you whine, rolling your hips again.

“Didn't I say you don't have to beg, sweet girl? I'm right here, do what you want with me,” he says, and this time he's the one who sounds like he might be begging.

Do what you want with me.

Your breaths come out heavy as you raise up just enough to line him up with your entrance, beads of precum dripping down his cock and making your palm slick. He twitches at the contact, his blunt nails digging in to the meat of your ass.

A long, low grumble of a moan slowly leaves his lips the second you guide his tip past your entrance. Your lips part, head thrown back as he slowly pushes deeper inside. The stretch is euphoric, your walls expanding to accommodate him with little resistance.

“Oh, fuck—” Jonathan hisses, tilting his chin to kiss at your jawline.

Outside, you hear the hens clucking contentedly, mourning doves cooing softly from trees. For a fleeting moment you remember the possibility of getting caught, hoping you maintain your privacy at least long enough to finish what you’ve started here.

Your skin is sticky where it touches his, sweat collecting in every crease and crevice. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, and just when you think he can’t possibly have more to give you, he’s pushing in the rest of the way. He grips you tightly as he bottoms out, pressed to the hilt inside of you. You both moan in unison, your hands holding loosely to his shoulders.

He’s still for a moment, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with his panting.

“Just— just need a second. Sorry, you feel so fucking good,” he says, willing himself not to finish right here right now. “God dammit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Take your time,” you purr softly, simply enjoying the feeling of being so full. You let your hands travel to his neck, thumbs tracing down the column of his throat before reaching his chest. Perspiration beads on his soft skin, pink flush reaching down his neck to his chest.

Slowly, he starts to encourage the movement of your hips. Gripping them firmly, he aids you in finding a good rhythm. You let yourself rock lightly on top of him, his strong arms helping you along and making your head spin. The soft head of his cock presses so deeply inside of you you practically start drooling, unable to stop yourself from bouncing faster.

He doesn’t discourage your increasing pace; instead his head falls back in ecstasy, curses tumbling from his kiss-bitten lips. The quicker you move the tighter his hands seem to grip your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin, sure to leave a sore spot.

You’re drenching him, easing the movements with your arousal, and each slick glide feels better than you could’ve imagined.

“Jonathan, oh my god—” you cry, hands pawing desperately at his bare chest. Your nails drag marks down the soft skin, and he groans in response.

Your body grows fatigued, thighs burning, and he notices the steady slowing of your bouncing. He takes over with ease, wrapping his arms around you and rising to a standing position. You gasp at the different angle, his cock seemingly pressing deeper still, and then you feel your back hit the wall.

He cages you in tight against the wooden slabs, your legs wrapped firmly around his thin waist. Your stomach flips in a new wave of excitement, taking him at this brand new angle. You surrender any control you had, letting him take the reins. He so desperately needs to, to get out all of that pent up frustration from day after day of watching you from afar. Wondering what you’d feel like, sound like, taste like.

Now that he has you like this, pliant and eager, he wants to give every ounce of himself to you.

He doesn’t start slow, doesn’t need to ease into it in this new position like he did at first. His thrusts come hard and fast, sending you reeling. You watch the way the tendons in his neck flex and pull, straining with exertion. He grunts with his effort, little noises escaping in time with each thrust.

He leans in to bite at the lobe of your ear, his face twisting in a sort of growl; a snarl. He’s primal in the way he fills you, claiming you as his in a surge of power he doesn’t typically possess. It’s like a switch has flipped, his shyness and hesitation disappearing. You wonder where this side of him has been hiding, and you can only hope you’ll get to experience it again.

“You feel,” he grunts, gritting his teeth for a fleeting moment as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust. “So fucking good.”

All you can do is moan in response, a high-pitched little sound that spurs him on further. Your nails sink into his back, clawing down the surface, sure to leave marks in their wake. He bites at your bottom lip, tugging on it until you whine.

The sounds your bodies make together are obscene, slippery wet squelching coupled with the slap of skin on skin. If anyone were to walk by, there’d be no doubt about what’s going on.

Every single thrust has you crying out for him, the way he hits that perfect spot inside of you each time making you tremble in his grasp. The pleasure is white-hot, lapping at every inch of your body. You can feel yourself inching closer and closer to your release, and you’re so desperate to have it.

“Jon, ‘m so close,” you whine, barely clinging on to him while he fucks you senseless.

“Ah fuck, yeah? Y’gonna cum for me?” he asks, near breathless as he continues to pound into you. He looks so fucked out and perfect; bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyes heavy-lidded in bliss, watching you carefully.

And the way he asks the question, it sounds like he’s dying for you to finish. Like he’s begging you to clench around his length, squeeze him so tight, drench him with your arousal. Like he can’t possibly believe you’re about to cum for him.

But you are, and with a few more quick and sloppy thrusts of his hips you’re crying out his name; screaming so loud you can hear the birds in the tree outside flutter away in a frenzy.

“Fuck, oh god, oh god,” Jonathan pants, and you’re certain he’s about to lose it as your walls tighten around him in a rhythmic pulsation. “Where can I cum? Where do you want it?”

“Inside, has to be inside,” you whine. “Please.”

You barely get the final word out before you can feel him hurtling to an abrupt halt, hips stilling as he twitches inside of your warm wet cunt. He paints your insides, giving you every possible drop that he has.

“Shit, Birdie,” he says, nearly gasping for air. “You’re unreal. You know that? You’re absolutely incredible.”

You stay panting like that for a while, joined together, your sticky skin against his. He noses at your cheek, pressing soft kisses to it as you try to regain a normal breathing pattern.

He pulls out slowly then, a slippery mess formed where your bodies met. Your legs fall from around his waist, standing up on wobbly limbs that barely contain the strength to support you. His hands reach up to cradle your cheeks, his eyes wild with delight as they search your face.

Your heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, fluttering rapidly with the way he’s looking at you. Before you can say anything he’s smashing his lips against yours, a slow and passionate kiss that rivals all the others that came before.

It lasts for a while, but you don’t feel like it’s been nearly long enough when he pulls away.

“I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to act like this never happened,” he says, an almost frantic look in his eyes.

“Jonathan—”

“I want you. And I don’t care what your dad thinks. I want to take you on nice dates, and watch the birds with you, and kiss you like this every single day.”

You feel like your heart may explode, like it’s swelling larger and larger with each of his words.

“I want that, too. We’ll figure this out, okay? I swear,” you reassure him, kissing him again. Pouring all of your affection into him and hoping he feels it.

“Promise me.”

“I promise you. I couldn’t stay away if I wanted to,” you say, smiling lightly. He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, slick with sweat.

You know it’s time to let him get back to work, but you’re reluctant to end the moment.

“I should really get back to it,” he says bashfully, as if reading your mind and feeling sorry he had to.

“Yeah, you should,” you agree, kissing the backs of both of his hands before letting him pull away.

He redresses while you watch in silent awe, studying the way his body moves. He catches you staring, his cheeks reddening adorably.

Both of you step out of the barn, back into the unforgiving sunlight. You’re about to head inside when you stop yourself, turning on your heel.

“I know you usually go home around four. Could you be back and freshened up around five-thirty?” you ask him.

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“Because, we have a date to go on.”

“Are you sure you—”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” you say earnestly, and the grin that breaks out on his face is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what exactly you’re going to say to your dad, but you’ll figure it out.

“Okay. Five-thirty. See you then, Birdie.”

With a little wave, you’re heading back inside. He doesn’t miss the slight wobble in your legs, or the trail of his release that runs down your thigh. And when he hears your dad’s car pull up the drive, he gives him a smug little wave.

What a way to start the day.

[mosaiclobster]

Pecking Order (Farmer x Hayden)

I haven't posted fic on tumblr before, but people have been so unexpectedly lovely about this silly fic on AO3 so I thought I'd share it here too 🐔🐣

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

House chickens must wear many hats. To Henrietta’s relief, those hats were figurative; she never much cared for the indignities of clothing. Ribbons were another matter, especially ones bestowed on award podiums. She wore those with pride.

But Henrietta was more than a show chicken. She was a house chicken, and that meant she was a pest controller, a therapist, a taskmaster. A friend.

Well, not a friend to all. Hayden was her person, and she didn’t see much need for the rest of them. At least Ryis had a healthy admiration for birds - she let him pet her, on occasion.

The others were hopeless. Balor, Valen, and Errol gave her a wide berth, which was respectful, but none of them ever bothered to bring her treats. Celine did, but she was too nervous to feed Henrietta by hand now.

She hadn’t meant to peck the girl. It was a simple misunderstanding, one a flattened palm would’ve solved.

March was the worst of all. He didn’t address her by name, only as “chicken.” When she pecked him, she meant it.

But then, there was this new person. “The Farmer.”

Henrietta considered the nickname an impertinence. Hayden was the farmer in Mistria. His people had worked this land for generations.

Henrietta Jubilation Featherbottom knew something about legacies. She was a part of the most award winning lineage to ever grace chickendom. She’d raised a whole brood of blue ribbon birds, and she had Hayden to thank for that. Any affront to his honor was an attack on her own good name.

Hayden didn’t seem to mind the other farmer, though. He even let the interloper join game night. He broke the news to her over a bowl of popcorn, as if it was only natural to include this fraud. “Used to be an adventurer before settling down here. Imagine the stories!”

An adventurer indeed. Sounded like a rootless, chickenless existence - more of a rogue than a farmer, if you asked her. When their new guest arrived, Henrietta clucked with all the derision she could muster.

In return, she received a handful of wild berries. Palm flat, and steady.

“Nice to meet you, Henrietta.”

Well mannered. That was a surprise.

Hayden gave Henrietta an encouraging pet. “Isn’t that thoughtful?”

She kept a wary eye on the stranger while she plucked and pecked at the ripened fruit. Hayden rubbed at the back of his neck - a nervous habit.

Why should he be nervous? Henrietta studied his kind face, the one she’d known since she broke out of her egg. He was blushing.

“Ah, she’s made a bit of a mess. Sorry about your hand.”

Henrietta trilled, indignant. She was a dainty eater. Juice stains were to be expected, and his embarrassment degraded them both.

The so-called farmer smiled at Hayden, and gave him a rakish wink. “Better berries than monster blood.”

The cheek! But Hayden seemed quite charmed - he hardly noticed their other guests arriving, and the color never quite left his face. Valen even asked if he was feverish.

Amusing jokes, exciting anecdotes, nice manners… by the end of the night, Henrietta had to concede that this new human was well socialized.

Over the next few weeks, a routine took shape. Sweetwater was the fastest route to the museum from the other farm. On the way, offerings were made: berries for Henrietta, and coffee for Hayden. Not every day, but close. Henrietta often joined them at the kitchen table - gossip was her secret joy, and there was plenty to go around. Apparently, Valen was spending an awful lot of time with that witch who ran the bathhouse.

Hayden took a sip of coffee. “Good for them. Life’s meant to be shared, isn’t it?” Henrietta watched his warm brown eyes widen. Hayden coughed, and set his coffee down so hard that it sent a spoon flying. The clatter ruffled Henreitta’s feathers, but she smoothed them for his sake. Poor Hayden was blushing enough already.

“That’s why ranching is so rewarding. I’m glad you decided to get a coop - how are the girls doing so far?”

“They’re great. Thanks for setting up the see-saw, it’s been a big hit.”

Henrietta had met the girls once, under Hayden’s watchful gaze. It was clear they needed a strong matriarch, but Hayden scooped her up before her beak could do its work.

That was alright. Henrietta could be patient - they’d be joining her flock soon enough.

After all, Henrietta was nothing if not perceptive. She knew a courtship when she saw one, even if it lacked the usual dropped wing and dizzying dance. The gifts, the fleeting touches, the lingering looks… honestly, she couldn’t understand what they were waiting for.

Once the leaves began to turn, Hayden confided in her. Not just her - Ryis and Valen were there too. They didn’t equal her in wisdom or tact, but such gatherings were good enrichment for humans. She listened politely, and cooed in agreement when Ryis stated the obvious: “Hayden, we know. Everyone knows. You’ve been attached at the hip all summer.”

More blushing. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Valen shrugged, and swirled her glass of wine. “What’s there to say? We all thought you were already dating.”

Hayden rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we aren’t. I don’t think so, anyway.”

They all laughed. Or clucked impishly, in Henrietta’s case. Once Ryis recovered, he put a gentle hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “You’d know. The next time you’re together, just speak from the heart. Trust me.”

The four of them were halfway through a fiendish jigsaw puzzle when Errol burst through the front door. Henrietta dropped the piece she was nibbling on and nearly fell off the table in shock - such an entrance!

The man’s face was as white as his beard. He looked absolutely stricken. “Please, come quickly. The mines -”

Henrietta trilled in alarm. Only their semi-retired adventurer would be so foolish. So brave.

The others charged off without her, leaving Henrietta sick with worry. She tore open a bag of premium treats, but the tasty morsels did little to soothe her.

Finally, Hayden returned with Valen and the intrepid patient. Henrietta was ready with a lecture about the dangers of monster hunting, but she received no promises of hanging up the blade. Just a pat on the head, and a crushed berry.

“As your doctor, I can’t advise you to hand feed livestock right now. You’re more prone to infection if she-”

“-she won’t. Here you go, Henrietta. I plucked this off a bush as they were dragging me out of the narrows.”

It was the nicest one she ever tasted.

Naturally, Henrietta was an accomplished nurse. She set to work, nestling at the patient’s feet on the couch while Valen gave Hayden instructions.

“This one has to be taken with food, twice a day. Something simple, like toast.”

Eggs and toast, surely. Henrietta began to doze.

When she awoke a while later, she wasn’t surprised to find another set of feet to warm. The two of them were laying in each other’s arms beneath her favorite checkered blanket.

They were mindful not to disturb her, but Henrietta allowed them their cooing and preening and kissing. Humans were such soft, silly creatures.

And now she had two to look after. Henrietta drifted back to sleep, and added another figurative hat to her collection: matchmaker.

[syndrossi]

Regnal AU, Chapter 2 (Pt 1)

I wouldn't call 2.8K a full chapter, but it's the first two scenes of chapter two anyway! For those who need a refresher, Regnal AU is where Daemon and Rhea conceive the twins on their consummation night, aka teen-dad!Daemon + overly-involved!Baelon + dealing-with-it!Rhea. The first chapter can be found in Resonant Side Stories and Ficlets.

x~x~x

The three days of travel to and then back from King’s Landing were a singular torment. Ordinarily, riding Vhagar was one of the few pleasures Baelon still found in the world, everything else mired in grey and duty. But this flight had been fraught with nerves, the first mission he had undertaken in a long time that had kept his heart racing throughout: fetching dragon eggs for the twins’ cradle.

He had barely greeted his father and mother, pausing on his return from the Dragonpit only to accept the blanket that Gael had shyly offered, one she had embroidered herself for the new babe. He made his apologies to Viserys, who had wandered over to the yard to bid him welcome and ask after Daemon’s twins, hastening to secure the dragon egg cradles he had brought from the Pit in Vhagar’s saddlebags.

A servant ran to him, braving his dragon’s half-lidded gaze, to deliver a basket of bread and cured meats for his return journey, and then Baelon was off, not one hour after arriving.

They were healthy enough when I left, he reminded himself for perhaps the hundredth time. Aemon’s wails were powerful enough to wake the castle, and Jon—it felt too strange to call his grandson by his own name—was constantly wriggling, trying to take in the world around him. But they were yet so fragile. For all his assurances to Daemon, he knew that babes born small and early faced far crueller odds than those born closer to their time.

A pair of dragon eggs will protect them. It was no mere superstition. Accounts as far back as Aenar himself detailed the benefits of an early bond with a dragon, or even just proximity to a dragon egg. For both hatchling and infant, in fact. It had not saved little Aegon, but he had been sicklier after the difficult birth.

Alyssa, my love. Baelon gripped his saddle, steadying himself against the lurch of his heart that could still upend him when he thought of her. In his dreams, she held Jon in her arms, laughing with abandon at his surly expression and comparing it to Daemon’s as a babe. And Aemon was beside her, conversing quietly with his namesake, the intensity of his focus undiminished, even when turned upon an infant.

Baelon’s grip tightened, and he was grateful for the unrelenting roar of wind in his face that carried off tears as fast as they could fall. Such dreams were hard to wake from. And when he did, it was even harder to rise to greet another day without them.

The farms and orchards of the Crownlands beneath them gave way to the mist-shrouded hills that formed Crackclaw Point. He had pushed Vhagar to exhaustion over the past two days, covering ground that ordinarily would have been done in three, so he set her down as they approached Rook’s Rest, where Lord Staunton readily gathered the plumpest sheep from his farmers to sate Vhagar’s hunger.

Baelon kept the rest short, allowing them both six hours of sleep before setting out before dawn. They had another twelve hard hours ahead of them—or so he thought. Vhagar, aware of his urgency, shaved several hours from that. It was just nearing noon when Runestone came into view at the edge of the horizon, and when they had landed at last, he laid both hands on Vhagar’s snout, her heavy breaths stirring his hair.

“Thank you,” he said, staring into her bright green eyes. “I do not yet have enough hatchlings born of my hatchlings to spare.”

The enclosure that had been built for Caraxes was too small for Vhagar, but its keeper assured him that a hearty meal of sheep would be secured for his dragon. That was enough reassurance for him to grab the dragon egg cradle from her saddlebags and take off up the hill toward the castle. The fear he had barely held at bay for the ride wormed its way into his heart at last.

What if the babes had sickened since he had gone? Little Jon—or Baelon, as his father had negotiated in exchange for the dragon eggs—was the larger of the twins, his lungs hale. Aemon was smaller and quieter, save for the occasional wail in Daemon’s arms.

The gods cannot be so cruel to take him from me twice. But he had thought the same after losing Alyssa and their babe, that the gods would not visit such sorrow on him again.

Daemon came to greet him in the yard, and Baelon’s tension eased at his untroubled expression. “I did not think Vhagar had such speed in her,” his son said, sounding impressed. He shook his head then. “Did you not sleep at all?”

“I can sleep easily once the eggs are in their cradle,” Baelon said, surrendering the heavy chest to him with relief. It was difficult to say which had borne the greater strain throughout the three days’ ride: his thighs or his arms. “Where are they?”

“They are in the nursery now. Come.”

x~x~x

Baelon all but collapsed into the chair that Daemon had dragged beside the twins’ cradle, feet giving out midway through seating himself. Lady Rhea had joined the small convoy to the nursery, and promptly ordered a meal be brought for him from the kitchens, but his dizziness steadied as he gazed upon his sleeping grandsons. Jon’s hand was curled around the cloth of his brother’s sleeve, his frown intense even in sleep, while Aemon was the very image of serenity.

In his relief, everything else that he had battled back surged to the surface, and he found himself doubled over in his chair, a half choked sob giving way to a trembling laugh while Daemon looked on with widened eyes.

“I am fine,” he said after a moment, once he had ridden out the wave of emotion. He brushed at his cheeks, then held his hands out. “The eggs.”

Daemon undid the latches on the dragon cradle, flipping the lid open to reveal the two eggs nestled within its cushioned interior. One was a deep burgundy with bands of black and gold streaking across it, and the other was charcoal black with large swathes of smoky grey and silver. Baleon had chosen them himself: one from an old clutch of Vhagar’s, and one from Silverwing’s.

“They are beautiful,” Daemon said, holding each up in the light in wonder.

His good-daughter, ordinarily stoic and composed, looked no less awed, and Baelon beckoned her closer. She reached out hesitantly, feeling the surface of each egg. “Whose is whose?”

“That is for the hatchlings to decide,” Baelon said.

Daemon handed him the burgundy first, and then Baelon was faced with the dilemma of finding space in a cradle built for a single babe but tasked with holding two. He ended up gently shifting the infants higher up so that the eggs could be placed at their feet, and both woke at his touch, foreheads furrowing as they squinted at him.

He gave their faces a stroke, one and then the other. They were so small that even the knuckle of his forefinger seemed to dwarf their soft cheeks. “I have brought a gift for you from your great-grandsire.” Alertness seemed to enter their eyes after a few blinks, and he smiled. “Dragon eggs, to keep you safe.”

Baelon took the second egg from Daemon and parted the twins enough so that it could be placed between them. Their pudgy hands patted at its scaled surface, with happy little grunts emerging from Aemon’s side of the dragon egg. Jon’s flailing study was quieter, his intense brow furrow back as his lilac-grey eyes stared at the egg, before his head turned back toward Baelon, almost in question.

Baelon leaned in close, kissing his forehead and cheeks, and resigning himself to a single cheek kiss for Aemon, who was still entranced by the egg.

“How are they?” he asked.

There was good color in their cheeks. Jon’s breathing sounded slightly congested, but that was not entirely unusual for newborn babes. Daemon’s nostrils had whistled fiercely for a period of four weeks, which Alyssa had found hilarious, calling him her little tea kettle.

“They remain healthy,” Rhea said. “Maester Therbold examined them just this morning. They have gained nearly half a pound over the week.”

They looked just as tiny to Baelon as when he had first held them, fresh from the womb, weighing barely five pounds each. He picked Jon up, cradling him in his arms as he tried to gauge whether he was truly larger. Once they have reached ten pounds, Baelon decided, then the worst of the threat is past.

Weight gain was far more important than weight itself, he knew. He had seen his little brothers succumb within their first year, as had his Aegon. Healthy lungs and healthy suckling were the mark of a babe who would live to see his first name day.

“You must drink heartily of your nurse’s breast,” he murmured to Jon, whose gaze turned cross-eyed as it tried to focus on the finger Baelon brought to trace the line of his tiny nose. “And see that your brother does the same.”

Aemon was more reluctant to be parted from the dragon eggs, expressing his affront with wailing that he usually reserved for Daemon first thing in the morning, but Baelon rocked him until it subsided, promising he would not be parted from their eggs for long.

“It is my father’s command that the eggs be under guard at all hours,” he said, glancing up at Rhea. “He requested that only your most trusted knights be tasked with the duty.”

She frowned. “There are none more honorable than knights of the Vale, my lord.”

“It is not their honor that the king would question,” Baelon said, well-accustomed to creatively interpreting his father’s sentiments. “Only their seasoning. Some will be more experienced than others, and those are who he seeks.”

“Very well,” Rhea said, her ruffled feathers soothed, “I know who I would appoint to the task.”

They are both of them so prideful, Baelon thought, not for the first time. It was partly why they had clashed early on, he suspected, though Daemon’s simmering resentment of the match had not helped matters. He glanced at his son, who still looked a bit lost on how to occupy himself in the nursery.

Daemon’s youth did not help matters either. He had grown up on tales of Aegon’s Conquest, of his grandfather’s heroic struggles against Maegor, of their family’s bloody quarrels with the Faith. He saw Baelon as a hero, as he had Aemon, and longed for the glory they had achieved on dragonback against the foes of the Crown. As proud as he was, he desired more to be worthy of such pride.

He is too young to understand that often such opportunities arise all on their own, and can bring sorrow as easily as accolades.

Baelon focused his gaze back on the twins, until the clench in his jaw had relaxed. They were watching him intently, Aemon with that concern so like his brother’s. He had always known when Baelon was upset, often before he did. They are such bright little flames, my son’s babes.

He let himself sink deeper into his chair, lulled by its comfort and their warmth, fatigue settling in until the door opened, at which point he straightened to alertness, but it was merely a servant bearing hot bread and cold cuts of meat, alongside a vegetable-laden soup. Baelon reluctantly surrendered the twins to their parents, one apiece, and took his meal.

“They are sweet babes,” Rhea said, smiling down at Aemon who smiled back at her.

“That must be your doing,” Baelon said, casting an amused look at his son. “Daemon was the loudest babe the Red Keep has heard. ‘Riotously upset with the world,’ is how my father described him.”

“I cannot imagine,” Rhea murmured, with a sly glance of her own toward Daemon.

Rather than bristle at the slight, Daemon merely shook his head at Jon. “Rest assured, I shall never tell such unkind tales of your infancy.”

Such was a great relief to Jon, judging by the smell that rose afterward, and Daemon quickly raised him up out of his lap, holding him up by the armpits to stern admonitions from both Baelon and Rhea until he adjusted his grip to support his head.

The nurse was summoned to change his linens, and then Aemon’s shortly after, and Baelon shared what little conversation he had managed in his short time at the Red Keep. Rhea seemed less than pleased at the king’s interference with Jon’s name, mollified only slightly by Baelon’s suggestion that they call him by “Jon” to reduce confusion, whatever his recorded name might be.

“I shall call him both,” Daemon said stubbornly. “Baelon is his name.”

Rhea’s expression turned to alarm upon learning that he had invited his mother and sister to visit as they liked, since the babes were too young themselves to travel. “I shall need notice of their arrival,” she insisted. “So that Runestone may extend a proper welcome to our queen.”

Her feelings on the king considering a tourney for their first name day, should their health continue to prove hearty, seemed mixed. Baelon did not blame her. He doubted she had realized how extensive the Crown’s interference would be once she bore sons. After Aemon’s death without a male heir, their father was eager to demonstrate the stability of Baelon’s succession to the realm: two sons, and two grandsons.

His father would be content to let the twins spend their first year in Runestone. But as for the second—he doubtless would insist that they be brought to King’s Landing along with the dragon eggs, if they had not yet hatched. For a proud lady of a proud house, to have control wrested away of her own heirs would likely rankle.

That is a matter for my mother to address, as this match was her own doing. Even the outcome was the intended one: a scion of House Targaryen eventually in control of a powerful holding in the Vale.

But that was a trouble for another day, and far less of an issue if Viserys and Aemma had a son of their own. Baelon rubbed at his heavy eyes. If that is even possible. His father’s pressure for more heirs had meant that Aemma had been made a mother too young. The Grand Maester himself had admitted that such could complicate future births, even setting aside the miscarriages since.

Childbirth has not been kind to our house.

“You look awful,” Daemon informed him, ever the diplomat. “You should take some rest.”

Baelon nodded, too tired to argue. “I shall sleep here, in the nursery.”

His son and good-daughter exchanged a look, but did not protest. Rhea merely sent for the blankets to be replaced, and his pillow brought from his guest chamber. By then, his grandsons had been cleaned and changed and given yet another meal that had left them just as sleepy.

“They were as hungry as ever, my prince,” the wetnurse assured him when he asked about the feeding.

A troubling thought occurred to him. “Is there enough milk for two? Is another nurse needed?”

“There is plenty of milk to nurse them until full, my prince.”

The twins seemed content enough, Jon letting out a soft burp before being transferred back to his cradle. The egg between them was moved to the bottom of the cradle, beside the other, and the babes nestled against one another as their faces went soft with sleep.

The dragon eggs will protect them. Baelon gave them each another kiss, then grabbed his grown son to kiss his own cheek. “Go, take a ride on Caraxes.”

His son’s expression turned furtive. “I did not—”

“I know you have not ridden him since my departure.” His son’s dragon had fixed him with the baleful look he had worn whenever Aemon had neglected him for a few days. “Go. Vhagar and I are here to protect them in your absence.” He nodded toward Rhea. “As are your wife and her knights.”

Daemon brightened, the serious expression he had worn too often since the twins’ birth lifting. “I shall see you after your nap with the babes, then.” It was Baelon’s turn for a kiss to the cheek, and then, after a moment of hesitation, Rhea’s.

Baelon settled gratefully into the softness of the bed, satisfied with the quality of the feather mattress. Their nurse should be in comfort, after all, to provide them the best care. Hopefully she did not begrudge him a few hours’ use of her bed.

He closed his eyes, and let Jon’s snuffling snores carry him away to oblivion.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8b: Last Night

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s last night on your farm

Word count: 2,645

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, p in v protected sex, crying during sex (well technically after), dry humping, vaginal fingering, sweet soft intimacy, kissing

Author’s Note: This could probably be read as a stand-alone, but I’ll catch you up in case you feel confused. Bucky made a business deal to work on your farm for a month. This is the last afternoon/night of that after spending all that time side-by-side. If you’re interested in the series, you can catch up with the link below or check out the rest of the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

On the final Saturday that Bucky was at the farm, the two of you practically stayed pressed together. It’s not as if you were unproductive, but you were glued at the hip, never leaving the office for too long without the other under the guise of tying up loose business ends before his departure. You knew once he was gone, he’d have to take all his burdens back off Steve, leaving him swamped with work, unable to pay you any more attention than he did his other associates.

With your efficiency and his inability to say no to you, all ‘work’ had been completed before noon. Sure, you could’ve dragged it out, but then you wouldn’t have had time to just enjoy each other’s presence like you had gotten used to. Before that could happen, though, you presented him with one last task.

Bucky sat on your oversized desk chair with you in between his legs. His chin was tucked over your shoulder as he rubbed up and down your thigh with his ringed hand. The cool metal gave you goosebumps on your bare skin, the nice weather allowing you to wear shorts and the lack of physical labor giving Bucky the opportunity to don his jewelry once again. You ignored the way your body shuddered at his touch, instead looking back at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay, cowboy. I think we’ve got your first few months of shipments all planned, so now onto my last order of business.”

He cocked his head to look at you with an amused, but tentative smile. “And what might that be?”

“Pull out a pen.” You stood up and shuffled the papers on your desk, looking for a blank one and setting it in front of him. You took a seat on the other side, not missing his slight pout and confusion as to why you moved so far and what was going on.

“Now that we’ve reached the end of the month, I want to assess what you’ve learned. I’m gonna shoot questions at you, and you write your answer so we can determine whether or not you actually took in information or just followed me around and mooched off my free meals.”

Bucky laughed when you shot him a wink and happily obliged you, a sparkle in his eyes, admiring the way you were demanding something of him with a sweet smile on your face, just like the first time you met. He gave a slight nod, pen at the ready. “Alright, sweet Honeybee. Hit me with it.”

You crossed your arms and legs, watching him as you rattled everything off you could think of, from super obvious things, like which animal lays eggs, to asking nearly impossible things, like the brand of feed given to the dairy cows. Bucky’s reactions to each question were a treat, some causing him to light up with knowledge, others making him roll his eyes at your specificity.

“Last question. This one’s worth a thousand points. Write something you think will impress me. Something out of the blue, whatever’s on your mind. Anything at all.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, tapping the cap of the pen against his bottom lip in thought. You watched his playful features morph into something serious, something soft, as he scribbled one line at the bottom of the paper.

‘I wish I could stay here longer.’

You leaned forward so could read his paper upside down, scanning the answers, each one surprisingly correct. Not a single one was off and he even put more information than you’d asked for on some of them. You were not only amazed with the way he indulged your ridiculous request, but with how this whole time, he had actually been listening and watching, holding onto every word and fulfilling his side of the deal.

As you looked up from the paper and into his eyes, you could feel the warmth through his gaze even that far apart. You stood up again and Bucky did the same, coming around to meet you. It was as if your bodies were magnetic, drawing you towards each other until his one hand was on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist as yours perched on his hips.

His eyes shifted between yours and he closed his eyes, drawing his forehead against yours before he spoke against your lips. “I’m serious. I love every moment with you. And I’m sorry it’ll have to end.”

You swallowed and let your eyes flutter closed as you leaned into his touch and nodded. “I know. But I get that you have work to do and it was already a lot for me to request you being here for so long. But just…for right now, be with me. Enjoy what little time is left of this with me. Please.” It came out as a whisper, a plea for him to remain present while he still could. You opened your eyes and looked up through your lashes to see him searching for your gaze.

He whispered back, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Say the word and it’s yours. I’m yours. And I’ll be right there if you ever need anything. Whatever you want, Honey. And right now, I’m here with you. I only want to be… with you.”

Your eyes closed again and you nestled into his chest in satisfaction at the depth of his words. You knew he was saying he would be present, but it meant so much more. For him to make a promise like that, extending beyond just business, made you feel supported, protected, embraced.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible and pressed his lips to your hairline, then using his hand against your cheek, he pulled your head so you were both leaning back enough that your gazes met before he smashed his lips against yours. It was with purpose and a new sort of urgency that you hadn’t really experienced in the slower kisses and pecks you had shared. You began to walk backwards and Bucky followed, lips attached to yours in a near-lock as your tongues danced, not unlike your feet, performing similarly to the two-step you had taught him weeks before. Your hands slid up a down his chest and began to pop open the buttons of his flannel shirt as his ran under yours, feeling the softness of your belly and tracing upwards, raising the hem of your shirt as his callused fingertips sent a thrill through you.

The two of you removed your clothing piece by piece, discarding them carelessly as you crossed through the living room and waltzed carefully up the steps, grateful Peter was out of the house for the day and helping Curtis with the weekend chores.

Clad only in underwear, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards your room, falling down on the bed as he crawled over you. His lips met yours once again as you widened your legs, allowing his hips to grind on your core. Your gasp at the sensation allowed Bucky’s tongue to explore your mouth, swallowing down each other’s moans and drawing closer and closer. Bucky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, the both of you looking deeply into the other’s eyes and panting.

His fingers traced down your side to play with the hem of your cotton panties, and you nodded, wordlessly giving him the permission he needed to pull them down. Bucky groaned at the sight of the damp fabric as he dragged the material down your legs, kissing back up your body and stoping to lovingly lick and nip at your neck as you whined and writhed for some sort of friction again.

“Jamie, please.”

He smiled and sighed at the way you begged for his touch, not used to being the one in control of anything since he’d been here, and now holding your pleasure in his hands. His fingers reached down to find your clit, dipping towards your entrance first to gather your arousal before making slow, teasing circles on the sensitive button. His soft touch set your body on fire. It had been so long since you’d been this intimate with anyone, all of your focus on the farm, and the exhaustion after a long week, not to mention the hurt from Jake deterring you from the desire for a partner.

“I’m here, I’m with you, Honey. I’ve got you-give you whatever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

Sensing your sensitivity and deducing how long it had likely been for you, Bucky slowly slid his middle finger through your slit, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn’t want to miss a single second of the way you nearly crumbled under his touch. Your eyes were half-lidded in pleasure as your body lurched forward at his slow, gentle intrusion, accompanied by a moan. He drank in the view, more gorgeous than he imagined you could be, back bowing at his touch. Bucky added another finger and the sensation of the cool metal against the heat between your legs was almost too much to handle.

Your legs began to shake as he slowly coaxed in a third finger, his thumb gently strumming your clit, deft fingers stretching your entrance. The feeling was overwhelming and pushing you impossibly close to an edge you hadn’t experienced in years at the hands of another.

“Jamie, Jamie it’s so much. So good. I’m so close.” It came out between hiccuping gasps as you tucked your face into his neck, throwing your arms around his muscular back and legs around his waist, pinning his hand between your bodies. You were clinging to him with your whole being as you reached your peak with a keen, pussy clenching his fingers almost painfully, but Bucky didn’t mind. He would’ve let you break his arm to see and feel the way he was wringing pleasure from the distant corners of your body right now. He continued to slowly pump his fingers against your walls, bringing you down from your high.

You would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Bucky hadn’t had a firm arm behind you, holding you to his chest where you had curled into him, as you gasped for air. You were finally able to pull your face away and look into his eyes again, his burning with desire and yours hazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you, uh, do you have a-“ Bucky’s eager nod cut you off as he pressed another sloppy kiss against your lips before slinking back off the bed and walking towards his bag in the corner of the room.

“I think so. Let me check.” Bucky hadn’t expected anything like this to happen over this month, so he definitely didn’t have a condom prepared. Perhaps his emergency one was still in his wallet, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He was pleasantly surprised to find it easily, rolling it on and coming back on the bed towards you.

As he hovered over you, you ran your hands along the scruff on the sides of his cheeks before pulling him down for another kiss. You could feel the weight of his hard length resting against your lower stomach, reaching down to stroke him gently. Bucky tensed at the sensation with a groan, throwing his head toward your shoulder and taking the opportunity to kiss your neck and down your collarbone before making his plea.

“Ride me, Honey. Need to feel you.”

You bit your lip nodding, complying with his request and moving to sit up as Bucky laid down against your pillows, right next to where you had just been sprawled out. You shuffled on your knees to straddle his hips, grinding down and letting his cock run through your folds, slick in preparation for him. You reached a hand down to perch his tip at your entrance, basking in the groan he let out at the sight. You slowly lowered yourself, the broad tip pushing your walls outward, pressure causing you to sharply gasp when he passed the threshold of your tight hole.

Your thigh muscles strained as you attempted to slowly but steadily lower yourself on his length, hyper aware of the delicious stretch of his thick cock inside you. The two of you sighed in relief as you bottomed out, nails gripping tightly into Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky held your hips as you adjusted to him, careful to not squeeze too hard from every time your tightness choked his dick. He fought the urge to throw his head back against the headboard, wanting to keep his eyes on you and where your bodies were connected. The sight of you splitting yourself open over him nearly made him come on the spot, but he tightened every muscle in his body again, trying to resist the urge. He only had one condom, after all, and he wanted to drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He could see it on your face and feel your body start to relax as your nails gently scratched over his tattooed chest. You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and dragging a whine from both your lips. Your speed picked up, his hands continuing to guide you, finding a smooth rhythm that pulled moans, grunts, and gasps out of the two of you, until just like before, Bucky could feel you clenching again. He lowered his one hand, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tender circles, leading you both barreling towards a shared peak. Your hips stuttered and wavered with exhaustion, but Bucky continued guiding you with his firm, strong hand.

“C’mon Honey. You can do it. I can feel you’re close. Let go for me, sweet thing. Please. Come with me.” His voice was gruff, dripping with desire.

Your hands ran down the muscles of his torso and squeezed against his abs, nails digging in slightly. You used your last bit of energy to nod your head and urge him to help you along. Bucky planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting in tandem with the grind of your hips. You leaned down for a final kiss, wanting to be ever closer to him. As he gave into the gesture, it felt like everything hit you at once along with your shared orgasm: the sweet, tender moment, the reverence and respect he was treating you with throughout, and the fact that you didn’t know if it would ever happen again or if you’d see him after tomorrow.

Bucky came with a deep, but soft growl beneath you as he stroked your hair after you’d pulled away from his lips and tucked yourself into his neck again. He sat there, letting you cling to him for a second before he felt the unexpected wetness against his shoulder. Tears has started streaming down your face, and when Bucky caught a glimpse, his look was similar. Jaw clenched with water in his eyes.

The next morning, it was time for Bucky to go. The two of you had arranged it so you could have one last drive to the gas station together where you’d be meeting Gio.

Bucky convinced you to let him drive your truck for a final time, and you agreed, easily giving in to his request. He drove with the windows down, radio low on the dash, and one hand on the wheel. The other rested on your thigh while you clutched the arm attached to it against your chest and rested your head on his shoulder. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head. Bucky’s callused thumb made small circles on your skin as the breeze blew through the cab, paired with the warm glow of the early morning light, sun shining on your time together like it always had.

Next >

Bonus A/N: All this writing and this is the first time I’ve done smut for Bucky. I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear what you thought from a comment, reblog, or ask!!!

Series Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22

[comradeboyhalo]

Q!BadBoyHalo Lore Masterpost Pt.2

Pt. 1 here. If you're familiar with early QSMP, I think it's fine to start with this one. A recap on most of Bad's backstory can be found here.

Links lead to youtube vods, but they're also available on Bad's twitch channel. Some vods have been excluded for dropped plotlines.

☆: Most important vods in my opinion for q!Bad’s lore if you’re really short on time.  

☆Dapper's Secret: Really fun and cute vod of Leo babysitting, but towards the end of the vod (5 hours in), Dapper asks Bad some cryptic questions/warnings.

Nether Trip: The islanders go to the Nether and find some books. Unsure of future relevance.

☆New Members: Bad and the other islanders go on a mission to rescue the new members from ice chambers. He also talks about being a demon after meeting Ironmouse.

Dapper's Secret Pt 2: 3 hours in, Bad searches for Dapper and can't find him. He investigates Dapper's shed and walks inside to see blueprints and notes. He eventually finds Dapper at his ant farm.

Dapper's Secret Pt 3: Dapper remains cryptic about his projects throughout the stream. Five hours in, Bad and Pomme enter the shed again.

☆Dapper's Secret Pt 4: QSMP Among Us for the first 2 hours. Afterwards, Bad starts stream reading one of Dapper's books, and he and Pomme later find Dapper at the cemetery.

Furniture Thief: Someone has stolen furniture, and Bad is accused of the crime.

☆☆ Dapper's Experiments: The reveal of what Dapper has been working on. This stream is both heartbreaking and necessary to understand all following BBH lore. (This stream mentions Bonnie the Felsteed, and you can learn more about them here. Not necessary though.)

☆☆ The Eggs' Disappearance: Bad finds out that the eggs have vanished in the first part of the stream. This is the beginning to Bad slowly losing saturation in his skin.

☆ Soul Vultures: At the end of the stream, around 3:18:00, Bad goes back to Dapper's laboratory. The beginning of this stream connects afterwards.

☆ Acceptance: At 1:40:00, Bad questions Fed workers, reminisces in the graveyard, then introduces us to his new...guest. 1:38:00 in the next vod connects.

The Maze: Introduction to Boo, and then the islanders investigate a maze linked to the egg's disappearance. Stream ends at Dapper's laboratory.

Bagi's Arrival: The islanders break out Bagi, and Bad wishes a missing Pomme happy birthday.

☆Interrogation: In the beginning of the stream, Bad questions the Fed Worker. Bad continues to visit the worker (Ron) at the end of each stream following.

☆Puppet: The stream opens with Bad visiting Ron again. Bad and Foolish talk around 3:45:00 and it's genuinely one of the most insane conversations Bad has every had, lorewise. I'd also recommend watching it from Foolish's POV, because his facial expressions show everything.

Who Can We Trust: Bad has Baghera meet Ron. The Federation and the other islanders start investigating Bad for suspected kidnapping. Baghera also has a great conversation with Bad here about Ron 45 minutes in.

☆The Break: Bad has a complete breakdown (tw derealization, paranoia) of Cucurucho in his home.

☆☆Opening Up to Tina: Now this is thee most insane conversation Bad has ever had. Tina's POV, and Bad lays out all his feelings on the table 5 hours in.

Ron's Home: 3 hours in, Bad reveals what happened to Ron.

Día De Los Muertos: Very sweet event where the dead eggs visit again, and Bad spends the day with them.

☆☆Purgatory: Day 1 and the Day 13 are the two must-watch vods. Link goes to the playlist. Would recommend watching the entirety of Purgatory to understand the elite Soulfire bond.

☆☆Are We Back?: Bad's return from Purgatory, and the start of an arc that will take him from now to the QSMP's end.

☆The Desert: Continuing from the previous vod, each stream opens with Bad wandering a strange, washed-out desert. The openings are a must-watch, and the rest of the vods are a great insight onto Bad's declining health as well.

New Eggs: Bad meets the new eggs (no special intro on this one). Also 34:00 is both subtle and heartbreaking.

Dapper Wakes Up: Dapper and Bad reunite

Climbing Up

No Escape From Reality: more of a chill day, 4:50:00 really shows his worsened state

QSMP Prison: Mini-event that's not super relevant for Bad's personal lore, but it was very fun to watch! Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 (starts 4 hrs in)

New World: Starts 3:15:00 in, Bad wakes up into the new QSMP world. Chill stream, mostly exploring the new environment.

☆Healing and Recovery: Bad wakes up with memory loss.

Before the End: The next vods are all a slow build up of Bad's deteriorating health, as shown mainly through his skin. Recommending 8:00:00 of this vod and 6:00:00 of this vod for some sweet egg talks.

Happy Saturday's: Bad builds a house with the late night eggs.

☆☆ Sweet Despair: What's this? Oh it's fucking cinema. The culmination of every single stream before it.

Egg POVs: The next vods follow around Dapper and Pomme as they cope with their father's death, from the POV of the ghosties. Not 100% necessary to watch because it's mostly slice of life, but I'd suggest watching the first one.

Absence / Fading Light / Funeral Preparations / Happy Days / The Last Day

☆☆Reunion: Bad comes back. I think this vod is a great ending to this arc (but you can also watch the follow-up vod here), as the stream itself follows such a strong storyline.

Please let me know if any links are broken and if there are any vods I should add!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

pleeeeaaaasee do more shane x reader (preferably gender neutral). Your writing is so good and the "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" one broke me. You're a hurt/comfort master

HAH you've given me another idea from this ask alone (insp by my farmer getting alex's 8 heart event while married to shane)

Sorry gang I swear fluffier stuff with Shane is coming

.....

It was just a few days into summer, and Shane already had plans to change up his usual routine once again.

Ever since moving onto your farmland, he found himself getting more motivated to take longer walks. This morning, he planned on doing so after ensuring the crops were watered and the animals were well-fed.

He greeted the cows, rabbit, pigs, and chickens as they filed out of the coop and barn one-by-one, not letting any of them miss their daily pets. Seeing the ostrich and little green dinosaur emerge didn't faze him as much as it did the first time he saw them--he still had no clue how you acquired their eggs (especially one from the skull caverns), but you didn't treat them any differently.

They were both lovable creatures. Just like the blue chickens he introduced you to several months ago.

Knowing you raised some and kept them on the farm made him beam with pride, glad he got to stay here and help run things in your steed.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

You set off for the beach earlier than usual today, having left a note on the table, and Shane opted to just hang back and repair some of the fences that were looking a bit worn out.

According to the TV, it was a "good luck day", and you hoped to find fortune in the form of a rainbow shell washed up on the coast. You certainly loved foraging them, but even if there weren't any around, you figured you'd go fishing.

Your husband wasn't the best at either skill, although a few hours after you left, he felt a little bored and decided to go visit the beach. Maybe you could use his moral support since other people--mainly Willy and Elliot-mentioned hearing you curse like a sailor when you were wrestling with a fish...or when said fish escaped your line.

He could be there to cheer you up, or teasingly bet on how many joja cola cans you'll fish out of the ocean.

That would be pretty funny, he thought.

So he headed off on his usual walking route, but instead of going to Cindersap Forest or stopping by Pelican Town's river, he ventured towards the beach, greeting whoever said "hello" to him.

Upon arrival, however, Shane stopped in his tracks as he noticed you weren't entirely alone on the beach.

It wasn't Willy, Elliot, Leah, nor that parrot kid you rescued from Ginger Island, but Alex.

He wouldn't have minded that so much....if not for the fact that you two were sitting awfully close together on the coast, overlooking the foamy waves. You were totally oblivious to his presence, so he hung back with suspicion.

Of course, he knew you were growing more sociable with the rest of the villagers, and he didn't want your marriage to be the reason you stopped talking to people.

Even so..something didn't feel right about this, especially as he watched you move closer to Alex, putting an arm around him. And when the younger male put his head on your shoulder, Shane's heart dropped.

You were talking, but obviously he couldn't make out what you were saying thanks to the noisy waves and annoying seagulls.

At this point, however, it became clear what was going on.

And it made him feel utterly sick to his stomach, his mind constantly circling back to one conclusion. Only one explanation as to why you'd ever be that close to Alex, and perhaps why you've been frequently leaving the farm earlier than normal:

You were seeing him behind his back, thinking he'd never find out.

He didn't know how else to interpret that. How else could he?

But of everybody in this town, why did it have to be the guy who reminded him of his youthful days in gridball?

The guy who radiated positivity and was always in high spirits?

The guy who wasn't old and weak and depressed...like him?

'I knew it..they finally got bored of me. But why would they do this?' Scowling, he felt like storming over and saying something, but he couldn't will himself to freak out here and now.

No.

Why bother?

Instead he decided to turn on his heel and storm back to the farm, nearly tripping over a rainbow shell as he did so. The saloon was closed, so he couldn't escape there...but he'll settle for rotting in bed until you come home.

You'll be back, and he'll confront you then.

.......

Coming back to the farmland around noon, you frowned a bit as you didn't see Shane anywhere outside. He wasn't at the mini coop like he normally was, and poor Charlie was looking for him.

"Where did he go, Charles? Hm?" With a soft coo, you kneeled down to pet the chicken. She clucked, her beak pointing towards the cabin, and you thanked her with a small handful of corn before continuing inside.

However, as soon as you stepped into a rather quiet house, all the excitement sapped out of you. You'd normally hear him playing video games or watching a Tunneler's game, but as you entered your shared bedroom...you found him just laying down, his back turned to you.

"Hey, honey." You sighed, relieved as you sat down on the mattress. "All that farmwork got tiring, huh? I understand. Thank you for doing it."

"........."

"..Shane? You still asleep?"

There was a long silence, only for it to be broken by a quiet sniffle, and your heart sunk, wondering what happened. "Hey, what's wrong-?"

As you put a hand on his shoulder, Shane flinched and rolled over to face you, his eyes red and watery, and his expression full of disgust...as though you did something wrong.

You've never seen him get this angry at you. Not since your first meeting with him. "Baby-?"

"No. Enough petnames, [y/n]." He huffed, sitting up and staring at you with contempt. "You don't get to act like everything's fine. Like I don't know what's really going on."

"...what?"

"Why were you with Alex today? Did he convince you I wasn't good enough for you anymore? That I'm past my prime?"

You blinked in bewilderment, wondering how on earth he knew that and why he was getting so upset. "Wha..you were at the beach? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's..not important." He grumbled. "If you love him more, fine. Just tell me. I was ready for the day you'd finally get sick of me. But..to do that behind my back...I just..." Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he clutched the mermaid pendant with a shaky hand. "I thought you were different..but I was wrong."

Now you were totally lost, heart racing as you tried to wrack your brain for any reason he'd assume that you were cheating on him with Alex. You knew he had some major jealousy issues, and he's been actively working through them with his therapist, but it was never this bad.

"Listen, I promise that what you saw isn't what it-"

"You don't have to lie. I get it. He's young, better looking...he's everything I used to be. So why don't I just go and you can have him live on this farm with you? At least he won't be a burden. At least he won't-"

"Shane just stop. Stop." You raised your voice, growing infuriated. "What in the hell made you think I wanna be with Alex when we're married?! When I've been nothing but there for you since I moved to town?! If you let me finish, I'll explain everyth-"

"Oh I'm sure you have a "perfect" explanation already lined up." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you can tell me why you were that close to him, I don't see why I'm even-"

"Today's the anniversary of his mom's death."

Shane blinked once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

"Wha..?"

"She passed away 12 years ago." Frowning slightly, you watched his expression shift wildly. "Alex was sitting there, crying his eyes out, and I just...wanted to comfort him. Like any friend would do. That's all."

At this moment, Shane felt like the biggest piece of shit in the valley, and his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to say.

"We just hugged, and he told me about the good memories they had," you continued, moving closer to put a hand over his own. "Cross my heart, absolutely nothing was going on between us, honey. You really think I'd do that to you? To the man I love?"

"....I....I didn't know he lost his mom.." He mumbled, still at a loss for words.

"Well it's not exactly something he'd share with the whole town. And I was gonna keep it between us, but you wouldn't let me explain myself." You reminded him with a small huff, and he looked down in guilt.

As quickly as your anger rose, however, it was quick to disappear as you watched him. He seemed very torn up and ashamed for accusing you of cheating, but you could understand his perspective and why he saw it in that light.

You would've been suspicious, too.

"Look..I know it did look like something else was going on. And I'm really sorry-"

"No, no..I should be sorry for acting like a total dickhead." Shane gazed back up at you, and his face tore your heart to shreds. "I didn't mean to freak and accuse you of anything. You were just comforting a kid who lost his mom and...I got angry for no reason. Without hearing your side. I shouldn't be like this..yet I feel like some bitter old man.."

"Hey, you're not old." You shook your head, cupping both sides of his cheeks and giving him a gentle kiss. "You're barely 30."

"Still..my body feels that way." He lightly chuckled, enveloping you in a tight hug. "And again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, [y/n]...I promise I'm working on these stupid jealousy issues."

"I know you are, and I forgive you." Smiling, you squeezed him tight. "We're gonna be okay."

"Mhm..also..um..I found something for you." He let you go and dug into his jacket pocket for an unknown item, and when he presented it to you, the grin on your face was infectious.

"Oh my god..you found one for me?!!" Your eyes lit up, as you now held a beautiful rainbow shell in your hands.

Shane nodded. "Iridium quality."

"You're the best. I love you." Laughing, you brought him back into a hug, giving him a few more kisses. "And you said you sucked at foraging, huh?"

"Ah, well..just the "chopping trees" part. Picking stuff off the ground is easy." He shrugged, his smile bashful. "Glad you like it, sweetheart. Take it as my apology for that..um..misunderstanding."

"I forgive you a thousand times over. Now..I think I'll display this beauty in our aquarium. What do you think, Shane?"

"I think I'll go with and see."

You both hopped out of bed and headed over to where you kept the aquarium tanks, with Shane in better spirits than he was before.

He still felt guilty for acting that way towards you, but your everlasting patience and persistence with him prevails.

He's glad he picked up that rainbow shell for you.

[starlightandfairies]

Sleepy ~Joel Miller~

Description: Reader returns from work at the farm and curls up with Joel in bed

Warnings: she/her pronouns, swearing,

(View whichever Joel you want, show or game. I don't have any in mind. Regardless of what the gif is)

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,007

The Last of Us masterlist

First person's POV

Out of all possible responsibilities in the Jackson community, farm duty was possibly one of the better ones, I hated going beyond the gates. I have no fucking idea how I survived for the first twenty years this shit-show has been going on for. So, now that I have a safe place, I don't want to ever leave it. Working on the farm, while yucky at times, was super nice, I got to play with the lambs, collect eggs from the chickens and milk the cows. Honestly, got no clue how we even got these animals but you know, food is food and survive, survive, survive. 

I made my way to the house Joel and I shared. It was around 8pm, I had gotten all the animals into the barn and locked it up to prevent any incidents like last spring. Joel spent the day around the community, today, normally he goes out for runs out of the community to deal with the infected but he wasn't called in for anything like that today, he got to chill at home or try and do something productive because the poor man doesn't know how to not do anything. 

Joel always has to be doing something, can't just lie around or chill. Always working about, especially during the days. Nights were normally easier, he would play his guitar and he would read too. It was how I found him in bed tonight, after kicking off my boots by the front door and tossed my jacket on the couch and began making my way to the bedroom. 

Joel placed his book down across his chest, welcoming me with a warm smile, I groaned as I crawled onto the bed, moving under the blankets and nuzzled into Joel's side. I kissed his cheek, smiling as he snaked one arm around me to pull me closer into his side. 

"How was your day?" Joel murmured, resting a kiss on my forehead, his thumb stroking up and down my arm. 

"I helped one of the sheep give birth. It was gross but you know, kinda cool." He let out a warm chuckle, it was comforting and music to my ears. It always was. 

"You've killed so many infected and that grosses you out?" I shoved him lightly, grinning at the deep chuckle that left his lips. It rumbled in his chest and gave me tingles due to having my cheek pressed against his chest. 

"They creep me out too! How could they not? Besides, I ain't ever watched farm animals give birth before, not even before the outbreak in any kind of movie. Besides, those stalkers, always giving me a fucking heart-attack. I have every reason to be grossed out by both." Joel smirked at my remark, rubbing my arm again and rested another kiss on my forehead. 

"Yeah, I don't like them either. Don't know they're there until I'm caught in a damn grapple." Joel murmured, moving his arm as I rolled away, I pushed myself out of bed and grabbed what's close enough to a pair of pyjamas and crept into the bathroom, I did what I had to do and then made my way back out to bed to find Joel reading again. I hopped back into bed, placing my head on his shoulder to read the pages with him, once again he wrapped an arm back around me, trapping me within his hold, stuck between him and the book. Joel adjusted his hold on the book so I could read the words better. 

"What's this one about?" I whispered, quickly skimming over the pages he had opened, trying to see if I could guess what it was. Sometimes, before I decided to settle into the community and never leave the walls again, whenever, I went on a run, I'd always try and find intact books. It always made me happy whenever Joel, picked one up that I specifically chose for him. 

"The Shining by-" 

"Oh, by Stephen King? Hmm, I remember that Simpsons episode where they take off it. When the... I think it was Willie and he goes 'The Shinning!' Gosh, I miss tv." That was one of my favourite Halloween episodes that show did. Joel returned his attention to the book, at first I could read the pages fine, but with the silence and Joel's gentle touch along my arm, the words started becoming like hieroglyphics and my head started hurting from trying to understand what the fuck was going on. Nothing was translating and I knew I should close my eyes at this point but I wanted to stay in Joel's company awake. 

Joel's POV

I had been reading for a good twenty minutes, lingering on each page for a little while so y/n could catch up if she fell behind. However, she became very still, her breathing slow and steady. I finished the page, using the bookmark y/n made for me after one too many times of being berated (teasingly) for doggy-earing the pages and demanding that I use a bookmark for the foreseeable future. 

I placed the book on the bedside table, slowly removing my arm from underneath her, before rolling out of bed and ensuring she was lying comfortably, I froze as she nuzzled into her pillow the action and her quiet murmurs startling me into thinking she was waking up. Y/n really deserved to be sleeping more than she was, lately it had been nothing but work, sleep and getting up early. I just wanted her to rest up and not be pushing herself as badly as I normally did to myself. 

"Night, darlin' sleep well." I whispered and rested a kiss on her forehead. I wasn't tired myself just yet, so I turned out the light and made my way downstairs to sit on the porch with my guitar and enjoy the brisk air and the silence of the community.