#like they both had the same expression of shock on their face when you stormed out like twins but get this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdy-novelist017 · 2 months

Note

Omg hi!!!🧚🏻‍♀️

I just wanted to pop by and tell you how much I LOVE your writing and content, makes me kick my feet reading about Benny and Bunny😫🙂‍↔️I was just wondering if mayhaps you’d write something in which Bunny gets mad at Benny for something and gives him the cold shoulder hehe. You mentioned in your most recent installment of them how she’s done that when pissed at him and I just thought it’d be so interesting to see an upset Bunny and groveling Benny😏perhaps involving the topic of jealousy or miscommunication. Have a good day/evening and feel free to ignore my yapping!!!🙈🐇

Thank you so much for your kind words! 🥹You're so sweet!!! I could never ignore your yapping, friend! Sorry this took so long to post but I wanted to get it right since this request is so stinking cute! I was going to break this up into two parts because I got a little carried away but I figured you guys probably don't mind the longer posts ;) Please let me know your thoughts on this as I love reading your comments! Hope you enjoy! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist 🐰

Word Count- 3.4k+

Love, Lids, and Lessons (Benny Cross X Shy!Reader)

Listen, Benny fucked up on a near daily basis. He’s by no means perfect and there was a lot that you overlook because you loved him and he’s still the best man you’d ever met. However, there were times where Benny pissed you off so bad that you simply couldn't excuse him. This happened to be one of those times.

You were standing beside him at the pool table during what happened to be a pretty intense moment of a game that Benny happened to be losing pretty badly. It was the third time you’d approached him, asking to leave. It wasn’t even that late but you had wanted to go because you planned to get up early the next morning to meet your girlfriends for a breakfast date. He’d told you that the two of you could leave soon, after he finished his beer. And then he told you after he finished his game. Then that game became the next game. And the current game which he happened to be losing and maybe it was that his temper with the razzing he was receiving from the members who watched the game but he just didn’t want to have to tell you one more time that you would both be leaving soon. You tugged on his sleeve again and he just said it, without a filter, without thinking.

“Bunny, you’re being naggy.”

That was it. Just four words that would cause him more trouble than he even realized. He didn’t mean it in a rude way; He was just trying to tell you what you were doing was annoying to him. He said way worse than that to the boys and they never reacted the way you did.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, driven speechless by his words. He made a shrugging motion to you that said What? But the low whistled that emitted from Cal on the other side of the pool table did nothing to deescalate the embarrassment he could see bubbling in your face. You snapped your mouth shut, brows pinching together as you glanced at the others who heard. Not many, just Cal, Johnny, Betty and a few others. It was enough. When your gaze found him again there was an undeniable dark cloud in your eyes and he wanted to apologize. But you turned and walked away before he could say anything else.

“Oh, Benny. . .” Johnny muttered with a grimace but Benny was too caught up in the taunting of the other members around the table to hear him. So he let you storm off, figuring you’d have cooled down by the time his game was over. And shortly after, his game ended (He lost, though he didn’t really find himself caring about that, not with the image of your hurt expression looping in his mind) and he said goodbye to the boys and went to find you. Only . . . you were gone.

He found Gail who told him you had left with Kathy. He clenched his jaw and nodded. You rarely ever left with someone else, you liked to ride home with Benny. He thought maybe you were just tired and Kathy was probably leaving at the same time but a little voice in the back of his head told him it was more to it than that. He tried to ignore the way the ride home was quiet without you on the back. And when he walked through the door, you were not in the entryway where you normally stood waiting for him. No, you weren’t even in the kitchen where he’d sometimes find you during a midnight craving. Something uncomfortable gripped at his heart and he stood in the kitchen for a long time, trying to come to terms with the fact that you probably left.

Trudging up the stairs to your bedroom, his heart skipped a beat when he saw your form laying in the bed, back facing him. He resisted the urge to go to you, sensing the way your shoulders stiffened that you were still awake. He undressed slowly, taking the time to decide what he wanted to say to you. But even as he pulled back the covers and crawled in next to you, no words ever formed in his mouth. Instead, he tried a different tactic. He pressed himself up against your body, sliding his hand over your waist, traveling it up to your breast as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

You brushed his hand away. “I’m not in the mood, Benny.”

His hand moved down to your hips instead to take it in another direction but you gripped his wrist and moved it back to his side. “I’m serious. I’m tired”

Okay, you were upset about what he’d said. He sighed and rolled onto his back, moving back to his side of the bed. He waited a few more seconds to see if you’d follow him like you normally did, but you remained steadfast in your spot so he reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off, the room filling with darkness. He laid in that darkness for a long time, contemplating what to say, what to do.

When Benny woke the next morning and his hand drifted over to you, he found your side of the bed empty. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was still early and you almost never woke up before he did. And if you did, you just wanted to snuggle with him in bed. With an odd feeling in the pit of his gut, he got up and dressed, seeking you out. He found you in the kitchen, wearing an apron with little flowers embroidered on the fabric. You stood at the island, frosting cupcakes that he didn’t know you planned on taking with you.

“Mornin’,” he said as he approached, making his way over to make a cup of coffee. You only hummed in response. He turned back around to face you, leaning against the opposite countertop, feeling as though the space between you was as wide as an ocean. He watched you for a moment as you set down the cupcake you were working on, the delicate desert now freshly adorned with baby pink frosting. You reached forward to start on the next one and that’s when he spoke again. “You need help with that?”

“No,” you replied, avoiding eye-contact. A heavy silence filled the kitchen as he sipped meekly at his coffee and you finished frosting the cupcakes. It’d be better to just rip off the band-aid, he decided. He wasn’t going to go his whole day pretending he didn’t know that you were giving him your traditional cold-shoulder response. So he said, “You still mad about last night?”

Your eyes flashed up to his for just a moment. “What do you think, Benny?”

“About what I said? C’mon . . .” He didn’t even mean it in a rude way! Sometimes you were so sensitive and he truly didn’t understand you. Johnny had told him once that women were a completely different creature than them. And as Benny watched you furiously frost your cupcakes, he really felt the impact of that statement. “I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was a little drunk and–”

“Oh you were drunk?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, in that case, I’ll just let you get away with whatever you want when you’re drunk. Won’t let anything affect me at all!”

Hmm. He didn’t think that’s what you were gonna say to that. Benny hated it when you verbally put him in a corner like this, didn’t let him get away with his half-assed apologies that never actually use the phrase ‘I’m sorry.’ It always made him get defensive, made his temper flare and he’d end up doing more damage than good nearly every time.

“You were naggin’ and you know it. I don’t know if it was because you wanted to go home or if you were jealous that someone else had my attention for a moment and you didn’t–”

“Jealous?” The word echoed off the cupboards. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bunny–” he groaned but you cut him off.

“Don’t Bunny me right now,” you griped, eyes narrowing as you began placing the cupcakes in the portable carrier he had surprised you with for your birthday a few months ago. “Jealous? You honestly think I was jealous? Or are you just sayin’ that because you want to get a rise out of me?”

“Well, I’m just tryin to say–” he stopped short as he caught your sharp gaze. “I just. . . Don’t you think you’re overreacting about this?”

Your mouth formed a thin line, jaw clenching. You stared at him for a few agonizingly long moments before you shook your head, muttering, “You–”

Benny was dying to know what you were about to say but only observed as you removed your apron, folded it neatly and placed it back in the drawer before you grabbed your portable tray and left the kitchen. Like a moth to flame, he followed you as you went to the door, pausing only to slide your feet into the kitten heels you had lined up at the baseboard. Without saying another word, you opened the door and left. But he trailed after you, standing on the porch, he wordlessly watched as you descended the stairs and walked down the stone pathway to the white picket fencing you had always talked about and opened the little gate.

“Damn thing,” you grumbled under your breath as you fought with the broken hinge of the gate to close it properly behind you, the sound squeaking obnoxiously.

“When are you comin’ back?” he hollered after you, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Later.” Was your vague answer before you got into your car and left Benny still standing on the porch, front door ajar and eyes narrowed.

******

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Benny stood to his full height and took a step back to take in the shiny new hinge on the gate he just installed. He tried opening and closing it a few times, admiring the way it worked soundlessly. Good as new, he thought. Fixing physical things like door hinges and motorcycle parts, those were easy. Benny was good with his hands, he could tinker around and fix just about anything he set his mind to. But fixing emotional things. . . those were not so easy for Benny. Apologies were rare and he’s never one to throw them out like confetti as you so often did. You apologized too much and he’s told you that you shouldn’t apologize for half the things you do.

He’d had a lot of time to think about what happened and his mood certainly shifted more than once during his front gate project. At first, mild annoyance because what he said to you was hardly an insult. Then, it might have been due to the sun beating down on him while he worked, but genuine anger replaced the annoyance because you were so damn sensitive and there were times he felt he had to walk on eggshells around you. But the anger quickly fizzled out when he thought about how your sensitivity was what made you special. It was what helped you be so empathetic, so caring toward everyone you came across. And by the time he’d finished fixing the gate, the only feeling that smothered him was a painfully present regret. Regret for what he had said, but also for what he hadn’t. An apology was something you deserved, but he didn’t give it to you, not in an appropriate way.

So when you came home, hours later, he watched from the living room window as your car pulled in front of the house. You exited the car, and he almost held his breath as you opened the gate, taking a moment to open and close it a few times. You definitely noticed he’d fixed it. Good, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet.

You came inside and it was clear that you were still upset by the way you moved. He could see your shoulder stiffen when you noticed him there, could see the pouty lip of yours pull into a slight frown. You hardly spoke to each other the rest of the day. You didn’t mention the gate and he didn’t bring it up.

******

The next morning Benny was up before you, as usual. At least that was back to normal. He went downstairs and started a pot of coffee as he got ready for work. He grabbed his lunchbox, preparing to make himself a lunch for work when he stopped short, noticing that there was already a lunch packed in there, complete with one of your pink-frosted cupcakes. His heart squeezed at the realization that you still packed him a lunch, something you did every workday for him, even though you were upset with him. You . . . the sweet creature that he still didn’t completely understand. And he needed to do something.

Fortunately Benny had another trick up his sleeve, and playing dirty didn’t matter to him when it came to getting your attention again.

******

You didn’t sleep well last night, laying awake all night with a heartsick frown, wishing nothing more than for the man who lay just within an arm's reach from you to actually comfort you – in a way that you wanted to be comforted. And tears threatened to spill when you realized, even just for a moment, you wished he could be someone who was a bit more empathetic, a bit more compatible to you. This wasn’t the worst thing he’s said and you’ve had your fights over much worse, but in all your time together, this was the first time you’d ever had that thought. Maybe it was because this was the first time you had both ignored it, both choosing to go to bed angry and upset rather than to work through it. The storm in your heart still surged on, albeit a bit more due to sadness rather than anger, as you slipped on your babydoll pink robe over your nightgown. You tried not to think about Benny at all as you put your hair up in rollers and applied your makeup for the day. You couldn’t hide in the bedroom all day unfortunately, so you traipsed downstairs, bare feet padding softly against each step until you entered the kitchen where you found Benny sitting at one of the island chairs, the daily paper spread out on the countertop before him.

He looked up when he heard you. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you parroted as you went to the pantry to grab out your ingredients to start breakfast. You started your tea, grabbing the jar of honey off the shelf and a flower mug. You turned your back to Benny and started to twist the lid off the honey jar . . . only it was really stuck on there. Readjusting your hands, you gave it another go, but still it didn’t budge. Setting your jaw in place, you glanced over your shoulder at your husband who was still looking down at his newspaper. Normally, you would immediately hand something over to Benny to open for you, but you were still mad at him which meant you’ll have to go without honey in your tea.

So instead you started making your bagel for breakfast, a go-to breakfast meal for workday mornings. Popping the bagel in the toaster, you took the homemade strawberry jam out of the fridge and frowned when you realized that lid was also screwed on extra tight too. You turned to face your partner, reluctantly asking, “Can you open this?”

He looked up at you, eyes glancing down at the jam jar and he held out his hand. “I’ll open it for you if you talk to me.”

In no mood to play his games, you rolled your eyes. “Forget it. I can do it myself.”

You turned back around, feeling his gaze burning into you as you grabbed a dish rag and placed it over the lid to get a better grip. You twisted hard, tongue darting out between your teeth as you concentrated on opening it. It seemed as though a mutant with superhuman strength had sealed this lid last – which was strange considering you were the only person in the house who ever used it. You peaked back at Benny who watched you blatantly so you stuck your chin out defiantly as you put the jar back down on the countertop. Fine, you’d just put peanut butter on your bagel instead. You scooped up the peanut butter jar, this time facing him as you twisted the lid and you nearly screamed in frustration when you felt how tightly this lid was as well.

Wordlessly, he held out his hand across the countertop, waiting patiently as you crossed your arms, mentally debating if you could go without any of these items on your bagel.

Ding! You both glanced over as your perfectly-browned bagel popped up from the toaster. You sighed through your nose, biting your bottom lip as defeat settled in. You grabbed the jam, honey and peanut butter jars and slid them on the countertop before him.

“Okay, fine,” you admittedly softly and watched as he made it look so effortless as he opened the lid with a satisfying pop. You muttered a quick thanks and reached for the jar but he leaned backwards, holding the jar just out of your reach.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he spoke, eyes earnestly searching your face. “What I said at the bar – about you askin’ to go home. You weren’t being naggy, I should have listened to you the first time. That was my own fault. I was just getting so caught up in that stupid game and it wasn’t even important. Not like you are. And what I said embarrassed you and that was wrong.” He rose from his seat, moving around the counter to stand before you as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his apology. Only a handful of times have you heard those words leave his mouth and you knew he never said them if he wasn’t completely meaningful. You nodded but then remembered his use of vocabulary last night. “And what you said about me bein’ jealous?”

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’m not apologizin’ for that because you really do confuse me sometimes, Bunny. I thought maybe you were jealous and when you stop communication’ with me, I feel even more lost than usual.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” you accepted as you crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to talk to you when I’m upset. Maybe I want you to do the talking for once.”

He furrowed his brow in thought as he looked over at the toaster. “Well, why don’t we make a promise to each other that we can go to bed angry if we want, but come morning, we talk about it over breakfast. No more putting it off for multiple days. We have to deal with it so that we can move past it.”

You considered that for a moment. “Yeah, that sounds alright.”

He took your hands in his own and dipped forward to place a soft kiss to your cheek. When he began to pull back, your hand flew up to gently encase the side of his face, holding him there as you met him halfway and kissed his lips in a physical show to prove you had accepted his apology. And if that wasn’t good enough, you whispered against his lips, “I forgive you.”

His arms circled around your waist pulling you into his lean frame in a tight hug that seemed to melt away all the stress that built between you two.

“How did you know that I would use the honey today?” you asked with a tilt of your head, figuring he must be the reason for the right lids.

“I didn’t. I tightened all the jars.”

“Benny!” you laughed, playfully slapping his bicep.

He lowered his hands behind your hips, lifting you quickly onto the kitchen countertop, grinning at the squeal you let out at the sudden shift.

“Let me make it up to you, Bunny? Please?” he begged, voice teasing but you could see the sincerity, the desperation in his ocean blue eyes.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” you giggled as he buried his face into the spot between your jaw and collarbone, that sweet spot he knew got you weak in the knees every time he placed his mouth there. “I need to leave in a few minutes.”

“You might wanna call in sick then,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed up your neck, “‘Cuz I got plans for you that’s gonna last longer than a few minutes.”

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @thedreamingfish99

#benny apologies :)#austin butler #benny cross #benny x bunny #the bikeriders #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #benny x reader #fluff #imagine #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you #johnny davis #the bikeriders x you #benny the bikeriders

704 notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year

Text

Enchanted by you | E.M.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, slight angst, mostly fluff, mentions of reader being cheated on by her ex boyfriend, Eddie taking care of reader, happy ending

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: Eddie finds you sitting on bench with tears rolling down your cheeks after your breakup with your boyfriend. He takes matters into his hands and takes care of you, making it one of the best nights of your life.

Word count: 3.4k+

It was a chilly summer night when you had talked to Eddie Munson for the first time. You had known him since middle school but between shy glances and small smiles, you have never really interacted with each other– not because you didn’t want to but because you were, well, too shy. You always wished that he would approach you but he never did, not until now.

You were sitting on some random park bench with tears rolling down your cheeks, hugging your waist tightly as you looked off into the distance. Your boyfriend had been avoiding you for weeks. You haven’t put much thought into why he was doing it, you thought that he was just busy with work but you didn’t expect him to be cheating on you– that he had been cheating on you for a long time now. You caught him when you came home earlier than you were supposed to, he was sleeping in bed with another girl in his arms, in the apartment you were supposed to move in with him now that you were finally back in Hawkins again. You broke up with him the same day.

You were heartbroken, shocked and confused. You loved him, he was your first love, your first boyfriend, your first everything– the one you planned a future with. You thought that you were happy together, that he was happy with you but obviously he wasn’t, he had already found someone better, someone he didn’t even bother hiding after you had broken up with him.

Tonight, you were supposed to have a girls night with Nancy but instead she and Robin had the brilliant idea to drag you to Tina’s party who was back in town as well after her trip to europe. After getting drunk on beer, you walked up the stairs, searching for a bathroom, instead you walked in on your now ex-boyfriend, undressing his new girl. You were caught off guard at first, you even apologized for disturbing the pair before you realized who you walked in on.

Eddie had seen you storming out of the house with an angry look on your face and tears rolling down your cheeks. He followed you out. When you took a seat on the bench, he gave you a moment to yourself before he decided to walk over to you. You didn’t see him coming, you were too busy crying and trying to calm your shakiness.

He looked around, taking a nervous breath before he stepped closer to you.

“Hey, uh– are you okay?”

Startled, you flinched at the sound of his voice, you looked up at him with wide eyes. A flustered expression took over your face and you quickly turned away to wipe your tears, “h-hi, yeah, I’m okay.”

You lied. He knew you did. He sighed as he sat down beside you, he took off his jacket when he noticed how much you were shivering.

“Here, you are shaking like a leaf.”

After doing your best to wipe away the streaks of mascara on your cheeks, you sniffled and looked back up at him.

Your eyes were glassy and a little puffy, your lips were set in a frown, you looked miserable and yet, you were still the most beautiful girl to him, just like you always were.

“No, you’re gonna be cold, Eddie.”

His heart fluttered and his eyes widened in surprise, he gaped at you. He wasn’t even sure if you would remember him in the first place, you both graduated four years ago and even then, you never really talked to each other, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you wouldn’t even remember or know his name, at all.

He shook his head, “I got a long sleeve on, it’s fine, please put it on,” he whispered and held his jacket out for you.

Eddie was practically a stranger, yet he was kinder than your boyfriend ever was. You don’t remember if he actually ever gave you his jacket. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and wrapped the jacket around you, embracing the warmth, “thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled at you and at the way you looked in his leather jacket. For a moment, neither of you spoke, you looked down, avoiding his eyes. If it were anyone else beside you, you would have probably jumped up and left but for some reason, he gave you an odd sense of comfort, one that felt familiar.

“So, you remember me?” He asked in curiosity after a few minutes of comfortable silence, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up.

Your eyes locked with his and your brows furrowed a little as your lips curled into a slight smile, “of course I remember you, you always held doors open for me and you always waved at me in the parking lot.”

He squinted his eyes and tilted his eyes as he began to smile, “you remember that?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. It was the highlight of your day, getting a smile and a cute little wave from Eddie Munson.

“Huh,” he mumbled and leaned back, staring at you, he noticed how much you have changed. Your hair has grown longer, your style has changed, you were still wearing your beloved dresses and skirts but it seemed as though you had found a new color palette, your clothes were darker now but it suited you. You have grown since your teenage years, you were always a sight for sore eyes but now you were just something else.

You have been away for a while, gone for college. He always looked out for you when he knew that Nancy was in town during breaks knowing that you were most likely here as well but he only ever saw you briefly, much to his dismay. Eddie had the biggest crush on you since middle school, one that somehow never left no matter how much time has passed. When he heard that you graduated college and were coming back to Hawkins, he couldn’t help but feel excited, only to feel disappointment rushing through him when he found out that you were still dating the same jock you have been with since high school.

He always hated him.

He hated the way he showed you off, the way he treated you like you were nothing but arm candy, the way he got to hold your hand, the way he got to have a piece of your heart. He hated that he had you.

“You’ve changed.”

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, raising his brows, he looked back into your eyes to find you staring at him.

“Me?” Eddie asked as he felt himself blushing.

You nodded, your eyes skipped over his face before they moved down to his neck, his shoulders that got much broader, his left arm adorned with more tattoos.

“You have more tattoos!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that you were checking him out.

He chuckled a little, “yeah, got them done last year.”

“I love that one,” you said, pointing to the dragon.

“You do?” He asked, smiling as he watched you staring at his tattoos. You scooted closer to him to see them better. His heart fluttered in his chest when he smelled your sweet perfume.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I always wanted one too– a tattoo I mean but I never knew what I wanted a-and Josh never liked tattoos on women,” you frowned after mentioning your boyfriend again.

Eddie rolled his eyes internally, he just added another reason to the list of why he should hate that man.

“Well, Josh shouldn’t have to say in what you do to your body, sweetheart.”

You placed your hands on your lap and looked back up at him, “no?”

“No.”

“But he was my boyfriend.”

Was.

He blinked, straightening up, he could already feel the joy rushing through him, “it’s still your body, you do whatever you want with it because it’s yours! You can go get tattoos– as many as you want! You can change your hair however you want, you can change your clothes, your whole life, you gotta do whatever you wanna do!”

A giggle fell from your lips, your eyes lit up as did his when he heard your cute laughter.

“You’ll still be the most metal girl out there!”

“Most metal?” You giggled again, blushing at his words.

“Hell yeah!” He grinned, “I always thought you were the coolest girl– still are, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, you played with your fingers nervously, “I always thought the same thing about you.”

His eyes widened again, his heart jumped in his chest and he stared at you for a moment. The girl he crushed on for years, even after not seeing her for years, felt the same way about him?

“Even when people called me a freak and whatnot?”

You frowned at his words and rolled your eyes, “they were assholes, you were never a freak– but hey, my friend, Jonathan. He always said ‘being a freak is the best’. All the other people are normal and boring, you aren’t, you’re cool, the best.”

Eddie was a little taken aback by your words, why did he take so long to talk to you? His gaze softened the longer he looked at you, your eyes were still glassy– what did he do to you?

“You’re a freak too then ‘cause you’re kinda the best too you know?” He smiled, “I remember when you dumped spaghetti over Jason’s head after he had said something mean to Henderson.”

You cupped your mouth as you laughed, “that was an impulsive decision,” you said.

He threw his head back in laughter, “that was the best decision!”

“I did it for you as well!” You blurted.

“What?”

Your cheeks heated up, “I-I did it for you. He said something mean about you.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what he was feeling, it was a mix of joy and comfort– you defended him?

“Really?” He asked as he calmed from his laughter, putting his arm on the back of the bench, he subtly scooted closer, “you did it for me?”

You nodded.

A soft smile appeared on his face, his heart fluttered for the millionth time tonight.

“See, you’re the best,” he whispered as he raised his hand towards your face, brushing away a single strand of hair behind your ear. He smiled to himself when you blushed. Cute.

“Who made you cry, pretty girl?”

The nickname made your stomach flutter. It was so new, yet it felt so familiar.

“I broke up with Josh,” you mumbled as your eyes welled up with tears again, “h-he cheated on me a-and now he’s with her, like we weren’t together for years.”

Eddie frowned at your words, sadness rushed through him for you and anger for him. How could he have you and choose someone else? How could he have the best thing and throw it away just like that?

“I saw him with her and it’s like, I never even mattered to him.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks and it made his heart hurt to see you like this. He wanted to go back inside the house, find him and punch him for breaking your heart but instead, he opened his arms for you to which you instantly let yourself fall into his embrace. Eddie hugged you tightly and rubbed your back softly.

You sniffled quietly and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“He’s the biggest idiot, sweetheart,” he whispered as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, “I can imagine how much it hurts you but you were way too good for him, he never even deserved you in the first place. He’s one of those boring assholes who take everything and everyone for granted. I always wondered what you were doing with someone like him.”

He heard your sniffles and it just made him want to punch him even more.

“He is gonna come crawling back and I’ll gladly kick his ass for you, sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna kick his ass too.”

��Yeah?” He smiled, “we can kick his ass together, how dare he hurt the most amazing girl?”

You pulled back a little, only far enough so you can see his face again. A gasp made it’s way up your throat when you realized just how close you were. His eyes were shining, flickering with something as he stared down at you.

“I’m not the most amazing girl.”

He frowned, “yes you are,” he whispered, “I think we should discuss that over a few milkshakes.”

Your eyes lit up and despite the tears in your eyes, you smiled, “really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, letting go of you, he already missed your body against his but he offered you his hand as he got up, “come on.”

You wiped your tears and stared into his eyes before you finally placed your hand in his.

“Let’s go, princess.”

“Let’s go,” you repeated after him, giggling.

Instead of spending the night at the diner, you and Eddie ended up driving up to the lookout, sitting in the back of his van, you were still wearing his jacket as you drank your strawberry milkshake and talked to him like it wasn’t the first time. Hours have passed and the night seemed nowhere near the end, you could sit here with him forever.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“Where’d you think I’d be?”

You shrugged, “thought you’d live your dream in Los Angeles, I always thought you would actually become a rockstar.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up and a grin formed on his face, “I’m flattered you think I’m good enough to be a rockstar.”

“You have an amazing voice and you're basically a guitar god with the way you move your fingers!”

Eddie couldn’t even help but smirk at your words, especially after seeing the flustered look on your face and the panicked look in your eyes.

“I-I mean, you move them so quickly– stop looking at me like that!”

He chuckled and ducked out of the way when you threw a fry at him, “where’s your mind at, sweetheart?”

You blushed even deeper, “where’s your mind at?”

“Not where yours is!” He chuckled, “but hey, thank you, I’m flattered, really.”

“You’re welcome, Eddie,” you smiled. “What happened to the band?”

“Oh, we’re still playing every Tuesday!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! You should come watch us play.”

“I will,” you smiled as you watched the way his eyes lit up.

“Cool,” he whispered, nodding to himself as his eyes flickered with joy, “I-I’m not a rockstar but I still work with music so that’s nice.”

“At the record store, right?”

He leaned forward, he looked at you curiously, “yeah, how’d you know?”

“Robin told me.”

“Oh, you talk about me, huh?” He asked, wiggling his brows.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, fighting off the smile as you looked down, “I should come by sometime, I heard that the manager is really hot.”

He frowned at first, tilting his head as he stared at you in question, his curls fell to the side. He looked so cute.

“But I’m the manager–” he cut himself off, his eyes widened and before he could play it cool or smirk at you, his cheeks turned bright red. Too cute. “Oh!”

You were flirting with him. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach fluttered with butterflies.

“Y-You think I’m hot?” He smirked.

Ridiculously hot. Here he was with his beautiful brown eyes and his pretty curls, rings on his fingers, tattoos littering his pale skin, the prettiest voice you had ever heard and a cologne that made you dizzy– he looked like a bad boy but he was the sweetest guy you had ever been in the presence of.

“I always thought you were hot,” you admitted shyly.

He placed the takeaway cup down and scooted closer to you, “why do I just find out now?”

You bit your lip and shrugged, “I-I didn’t think that you– I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stuttered.

Eddie’s eyes softened, even in the darkness, he could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the shy look on your face. He reached for your hand and you gladly placed it in his. He smiled and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand.

“Sweetheart, you could never make me uncomfortable,” he whispered, “I know this might not be the right time to say this but, I was always fucking crazy about you, you could have dumped those spaghetti on me instead of Carver and I’d still have a big crush on you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and a giggle tore from your lips, “I would never do this to you!”

He laughed, tugging you closer to him, “I know you wouldn’t, sweet girl. I’m just saying, I-I wish I had the courage to do something about my feelings back then but I was scared, w-we didn’t really talk and you knew about my reputation, I was too scared that you’d reject me but shit, I wish I would have just asked you out before that asshole came along. I would’ve treated you like a queen.”

Your features softened and you placed your other hand over his, squeezing it gently.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, he stared at them longingly, like he had always dreamed of kissing you– he did.

His heart was racing in his chest, “I still would if you let me,” he whispered and looked back into your eyes, “I-I know you just got out of a long relationship but I– we don’t have to do anything, we can just–”

“I’ll let you.”

His pupils flared and a huge smile appeared on his face after the moment of shock simmered away.

“You will?” He asked excitedly.

You nodded, smiling at the beautiful man in front of you. You let him pull you closer by your waist until you’re in between his legs, his face just mere inches away from yours. He moved his hands up your arms, staring at the way his jacket hugs your frame, he brushed your hair back and cupped your cheek.

“Hi,” he whispered, his nose bumping into yours causing you both to giggle.

“Hi Eddie,” you whispered.

He felt like he was enchanted by your beauty, by your voice, by you. He always was, from the first moment he had laid his eyes on you. He was enchanted by you and he loved it.

He stared at you for what felt like forever– he could admire you forever and he would be content with just doing that. He traced your cheek with his thumb and looked into the eyes that were filled with tears earlier– now they showed nothing but peace and happiness, it made him happy.

This morning, he woke up, made himself a cup of coffee before work and got ready. It was a normal day as always– if he would’ve just known that the girl of his dreams would be in his arms later that night, he would’ve left the house with the biggest smile on his face.

“I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered as he admired you.

Your pupils widened and a small gasp left your lips, your heart fluttered the way it never had before.

He leaned closer and kissed your cheek, “you’re an angel.”

“I always thought you were the most beautiful boy,” you whispered back, making him smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled as you mimicked his actions and leaned in to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a second.

If you could, you would hear his heart racing like crazy.

“The most beautiful girl should be with the most beautiful boy, don’t you think?” He asked as he leaned in to kiss your other cheek. You smelled like the strawberry milkshake you just had, it made him want to kiss you even more.

“Mhmm.”

You smiled at each other, happily.

Right now, you weren’t in pain, you weren’t thinking about anyone but him, you were happy, content and excited for the future, just like he was.

He leaned his forehead against yours and continued to hold your cheeks.

“The hot record store manager and the sexy journalist, sounds perfect to me.”

You giggled.

“I can write stories about you,” you smiled.

“No sweetheart, you can write stories about us.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #stranger things angst

2K notes · View notes

aemondwhoresworld · 17 days

Text

SCARS BENEATH THE SURFACE

pairing: mafia!cregan stark x reader ; husband!cregan stark x wife!reader

summary: you’ve always known that his past would be a shadow over your relationship. but when you discover that he’s been hiding something important involving his ex-fiancée, arra, the hurt and betrayal cut deep. a heated argument ensues, where long-buried insecurities and jealousy come to the surface, particularly because arra has been cruel to you in the past—a fact you’ve kept hidden to protect cregan. as harsh words are exchanged, both of you are forced to confront the ghosts of cregan’s past and the lies that threaten to tear you apart. however, by the end, cregan realizes the gravity of his mistake and makes a heartfelt effort to mend the rift between you, proving that his love for you is stronger than any lingering feelings for arra.

word count: 2,6k

warning(s): english is not my first language. angst, including shouting, feelings of betrayal, and discussions of jealousy and insecurity, arra’s past behavior includes emotional. a sequel of “STRANGER TO LOVERS” can be read as a seperate one-shot

masterlist | ADD YOURSELF TO TAGLIST

Night in Winterfell today was unusually quiet, the tension in the air palpable as you sat alone in the dimly lit living room. The flickering flames from the fireplace cast shadows on the walls, mirroring the storm brewing in your heart. You had always known Cregan’s world was full of secrets and danger, but tonight, you were forced to confront a truth that made your blood run cold.

You heard the front door open and close, and the sound of Cregan’s footsteps approaching sent a chill down your spine. When he finally stepped into the room, his eyes met yours, and he could immediately sense that something was wrong.

“Hey,” he said cautiously, his deep voice laced with concern. “What’s going on?”

You stood up slowly, your arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold everything together. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the accusation in it was clear.

Cregan’s brow furrowed, confusion evident on his face. “Tell you what?”

“That you’ve been meeting with Arra,” you said, the name of his ex-fiancée leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “Behind my back.”

Cregan stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he realized where this was going. “Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “The point is, you didn’t tell me. You lied to me, Cregan.”

Cregan let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “I didn’t lie. I just… I didn’t want to worry you. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. “You’ve been sneaking around with your ex-fiancée, the same woman who’s made it her mission to make me feel like I’m not good enough for you, and you didn’t think I’d want to know?”

Cregan’s expression hardened, his eyes darkening with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “It wasn’t like that. I was handling business. Arra still has connections that are valuable to the syndicate.”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?” you asked, your voice cracking as the pain you’d been holding back surged forward. “Do you know what it’s like to constantly feel like I’m competing with a ghost? To feel like no matter what I do, I’ll never measure up to her in your eyes?”

Cregan’s jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to see the tears forming in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“But you did,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “And the worst part is, she’s been awful to me, Cregan. She’s said things, done things to make me doubt myself, and I’ve kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt you. But you’re so blinded by whatever lingering feelings you have for her that you can’t even see how much it’s tearing me apart.”

Cregan’s head snapped up, shock and disbelief flashing in his eyes. “What are you talking about? What has she done?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you finally let out the words you’d been holding back for so long. “She told me that I’d never be able to give you what she could, that you’d always come back to her because she knows you better than I ever will. She’s tried to undermine me at every turn, and I’ve been too afraid to tell you because I thought… I thought maybe she was right.”

Cregan stared at you, his expression a mixture of anger and horror as the realization of what you’d been enduring sank in. “She said that to you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes,” you admitted, your voice breaking as the weight of your insecurities finally came crashing down. “And you’ve been spending time with her, trusting her, while I’ve been here, feeling like a fool.”

Cregan closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your shoulders as he forced you to look at him. “You are not a fool,” he said firmly, his voice laced with urgency. “And Arra doesn’t mean anything to me. Whatever I had with her ended a long time ago. I’ve never felt for her what I feel for you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your eyes searching his for answers. “Why did you hide it from me if she means nothing?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel threatened,” Cregan confessed, his voice filled with regret. “I thought I was protecting you by keeping it from you, but I see now that I only made things worse. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, the tears finally spilling over as the pain and betrayal you’d been holding in for so long came pouring out. “It’s not just about Arra, Cregan. It’s about trust. How can I trust you if you’re willing to lie to me about something like this?”

Cregan’s grip on your shoulders tightened as he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke with raw emotion. “I swear to you, I will never lie to you again. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes. You are my wife, the woman I love, and nothing and no one will ever come between us again. Not Arra, not anyone.”

You wanted to believe him, but the pain was still too fresh, the wound too deep. “How can I be sure, Cregan? How can I be sure that you won’t put her or anyone else above me again?”

Cregan’s eyes burned with intensity as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “Because I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with sincerity. “You are my everything, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you. Please, give me a chance to make this right.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the desperation, the fear of losing you that mirrored your own. Slowly, you nodded, your voice barely audible as you said, “Okay.”

Relief washed over Cregan’s face as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I promise you, I’ll never make you feel this way again.”

For a long moment, the two of you stood there, holding each other in the dim light of the living room, the tension slowly dissipating as you both began to heal the wounds caused by secrets and lies. Cregan held you like you were his lifeline, and in that embrace, you found a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, your love was strong enough to overcome even this.

Later that night, Cregan made a point of cutting off all ties with Arra, ensuring that there would be no more secrets between you. He spent the next few weeks going out of his way to show you how much you meant to him, planning romantic gestures, and being more open about his business dealings. But what mattered most was that he made you feel seen and valued, something you realized you had been longing for all along.

One evening, as you sat together on the balcony overlooking the city, Cregan took your hand in his, his eyes filled with love and determination. “I know it will take time for things to fully heal between us,” he said softly, “but I want you to know that I am committed to earning back your trust, every single day.”

You squeezed his hand, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked out at the skyline. “I believe you, Cregan. And I’m willing to move forward, as long as we do it together.”

Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss, one that spoke of new beginnings and a love that had weathered the storm. As you melted into the embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Cregan would face them side by side, stronger and more united than ever.

The road to healing wasn’t an easy one, but it was one you were both determined to walk together.

In the days and weeks that followed, Cregan kept his promise, making a conscious effort to rebuild the trust that had been damaged. The small gestures mattered—like coming home earlier than usual, spending more time with you and Rickon, and being more transparent about his work. But what truly began to mend your heart was the way he started to talk more openly about his past, including his relationship with Arra.

In the evening, you found yourselves sitting in the kitchen, the warm glow of the pendant lights casting a cozy atmosphere. You were cutting vegetables for dinner, while Cregan leaned against the counter, watching you with a thoughtful expression.

“I never really told you about what happened between me and Arra,” he began quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I think it’s time you knew.”

You paused, looking up at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Only if you’re ready,” you said gently, not wanting to push him.

Cregan nodded, taking a deep breath. “Arra and I… we were engaged because of our families. It was arranged, something I didn’t have much of a say in back then like our marriage. I thought I loved her, or at least, I convinced myself that I did because it was expected of me. But as time went on, I realized that what we had wasn’t real love. It was built on duty and expectation, not genuine connection.”

He walked over to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he continued. “She was always more interested in the power and status that came with being with me than in me as a person. I think that’s why she was so cruel to you. She saw you as a threat because you have what she could never truly have—my heart.”

You put down the knife, turning to face him fully. “But why did you keep seeing her, even after you realized all of this?”

“Because of the business,” Cregan admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “She still had connections that I needed to maintain peace in certain areas. But I see now that it wasn’t worth the cost. I should have cut ties with her the moment I realized what she was doing to you. I was blinded by my sense of duty and the fear of what might happen if I didn’t keep those connections.”

You reached up, gently cupping his cheek. “Cregan, I understand that your world is complicated, but I need to know that I’m more than just a piece in that game. I need to know that you’ll always put our relationship first.”

“You are,” Cregan said fervently, covering your hand with his own. “You are so much more than a piece in any game. You’re my wife, my love, my everything. And I promise you, nothing will ever come between us again—not Arra, not the business, nothing.”

The sincerity in his eyes melted the last of the ice that had formed around your heart. You could see how much he regretted his mistakes, how desperately he wanted to make things right. And in that moment, you decided to let go of the hurt and embrace the love you knew was still strong between you.

“I believe you,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And I’m willing to move forward.”

Cregan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and devotion into it. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the kitchen.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your heart swelling with the depth of your feelings for him.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your relationship. The scars from your argument would heal, and in their place would grow a stronger, deeper bond—one that could withstand any storm that came your way.

The next day, Cregan took a significant step in showing you how committed he was to rebuilding your trust. He called a meeting with Arra, and this time, he insisted that you be present. The meeting took place at a neutral location—a sleek, modern restaurant known for its discretion and privacy. You arrived with Cregan, your hand tightly clasped in his as he led you inside.

Arra was already seated at a private table, her perfectly manicured fingers drumming lightly on the tablecloth as she waited. When she saw you enter with Cregan, her eyes narrowed slightly, but she quickly masked her expression with a cool, indifferent smile.

“Cregan,” she greeted him with a nod before her gaze flickered to you. “And you must be—”

“My wife,” Cregan interrupted, his tone firm as he squeezed your hand. “And from now on, all business between us will include her. There will be no more private meetings, no more secrets.”

Arra’s smile faltered for just a moment before she regained her composure. “Of course,” she replied smoothly. “Though I’m surprised you need a chaperone now, Cregan. Surely you don’t think I’d be a threat to your precious marriage?”

Her words were laced with venom, and you could feel the tension radiating from Cregan as he clenched his jaw. But instead of rising to her bait, he simply met her gaze with a steely resolve.

“This isn’t about threats, Arra,” he said evenly. “This is about respect. And if you can’t respect my wife, then there’s no place for you in my business.”

Arra’s eyes flashed with anger, but she quickly masked it with a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Very well, Cregan. If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I need,” he corrected her. “Now, if there’s nothing else, we should wrap this up. My wife and I have plans.”

Without waiting for her response, Cregan stood up, offering you his hand. You took it, feeling a surge of pride and relief as he led you out of the restaurant, leaving Arra behind without a second glance.

As you walked down the street, hand in hand, you looked up at Cregan, who seemed more at ease than you’d seen him in weeks. “Thank you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “For standing up for me.”

Cregan stopped, turning to face you as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’ll always stand up for you,” he promised, his voice filled with conviction. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I’ll never let anyone make you feel otherwise again.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you leaned into his touch. “I love you, Cregan.”

“And I love you,” he replied, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips.

As you continued walking, you realized that while the scars of your argument would take time to fully heal, they had ultimately brought you closer together. Cregan had proven that he was willing to fight for your relationship, to put you first, and to build a future where you both felt secure and valued.

TAGLIST: @raven-alum ; @aegonswife ; @jellybeanstacey0519 ; @tia29 ; @laurathebabex ; @yariany02 ; @majdoline ; @r-3dlips ; @chaerin1309 ; @kidd3ath

343 notes · View notes

zebuie · 5 months

Text

⚸⋆Unleashed Desires ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

𝓟𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘; academic rival!ellie x fem!reader

𓆰𓆪 SYNOPSIS:: Ellie Williams, your academic rival who always had u beat, One night in a club, she lures you to her dorm where they indulge in a steamy, no-holds-barred fuck session filled with passionate curses and intense pleasure. The lines blur between competition and desire as their taboo passion takes over.

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂; SMUT!,swearing, porn w little to no plot,degradation (r receiving), strap on usage (r receiving), face slapping (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), hair pulling (e receiving), slight fluff in the end/aftercare,enemies to lovers trope, lmk if I excluded anyth

!! daily click to help !!

From the time you first met Ellie in the first grade, it was clear that you two were constantly competing against each other. It has been that way ever since the two of you started attending the same university. Ellie always finds a way to boast about her achievements, just as she did today when she strutted up to you with a sly grin on her face and boasted about her 98%. She asks you with a smug expression, "So, what did you get?" You grit your teeth as you recall her arrogant remark, trying to resist the surge of anger simmering within you. You decide to put her in her place once and for all. In front of everyone, you pull out your notebook with a confident smile and flip it open, exposing your grade book. With a nonchalant air, you point at the entry with today's score on it – a perfect 100%. The silence that ensues is deafening as Ellie's face turns from smug satisfaction to astonished shock before she can muster up a weak "Congratulations." Her friends exchange glances filled with jealousy while whispering amongst themselves about how ruthlessly they just got beaten by a girl who seemed like an underdog till now. Feeling proud and satisfied, you turn back to whatever task was at hand but don't ignore the sense of accomplishment and pleasure swirling inside you - finally putting that annoying rival in check using sheer talent instead of indulging in immature competitions.

As the day went on, Ellie's attitude towards you took a sharp turn. She couldn't stop talking about her defeat behind your back, trying to defame you in front of their group of friends. You overheard snippets of her insulting comments, mocking your success and even hinted at rumors she spread about you. At one point, during lunch break, she brazenly bumps into you as she carries her tray full of food from the cafeteria line, causing both trays to clash and spilling food all over yours. Her eyes filled with hatred as she sneered out "Clumsy bitch" You clench your teeth before responding sharply "Oh fuck off williams, it’s actually soooo fuckin pathetic how worked up your getting over me getting a better grade." Your words send a chill down her spine as people around them pause and look at you two with surprise etched on their faces.In response, Ellie scoffs derisively "Fucking lucky then! Bet you rely on tutors to keep those grades high." This sends a flash of anger inside you which compels you to grab hold of one side of her arm forcefully and hiss through gritted teeth You grab Ellie's arm in a tight grip, eyes blazing as you seethe with frustration. "Don't even fucking dare insinuate that" Your tone is aggressive, causing her friends to quickly move away, realizing this argument between you two is about to escalate. "I work my ass off for those grades, no tutor needed! And unlike your stuck up self who only brags about fake achievements," your voice drops menacingly low, "I earn mine the hard way." Ellie looks at you with disdain mixed with fear before pulling her arm away roughly from your grasp. "Whatever helps you sleep at night knowing some geek like you actually tops me," she sneers mockingly before turning on her heels and storming off. Despite ur harsh words exchanged earlier and the bitter taste left in your mouths from this exchange; something inside both of you starts simmering - an intriguing mix of anger coupled with an undeniable attraction towards each other which neither one dares acknowledge out loud just yet.

A few weeks later, you catch a glimpse of Ellie from across the dimly lit club standing at the bar with a drink in hand. Ellie wore a loose muscle tee with a faded logo, crop top of a band you couldn’t recognize. The shirt cut off just above her toned midriff, showing the hem of her branded boxer shorts peeking out. And u couldn’t deny, Her muscular body looks so fucking good under the neon lights of the club. As you saunter over to to the bar, she smirks cockily "Look who decided to grace us with her presence." Her sarcasm is evident yet it doesn't bother you as much as it usually would. You move unconsciously closer to her, catching Ellie's gaze as she takes a swig from her beer bottle. A challenge lingers in her eyes as if daring you to make the first move. Suddenly, you blurt out "Wanna get outta here?" Ellie shrugs indifferently, taking one last sip of her beer before tossing it in a nearby trash bin and following you without another word. The silence between you two fills the air as Ellie trails behind you through the empty halls of their dorm building. Each stride she takes sends a shiver down your spine - her presence creating an undercurrent of desire that's hard to ignore. Once inside her room, she kicks off her converse and throws herself onto one of her plush couches; clearly, she expects something to happen now.

You hesitate for a moment before deciding to break the tension "Ellie..." You trail off nervously, not knowing how exactly to voice out what's brewing between both of you. Ellie lifts her head and looks at you with a blend of curiosity and amusement "What is it?" Her gaze intensifies as she takes in your nervous demeanour. In response, you step closer to her until their bodies are almost touching. Your lips part as if to confess the feelings that have been brewing inside you for weeks now when suddenly, Ellie pulls you closer and claims your mouth in a rough kiss; her hands gripping the sides of your hips as she deepens the kiss, You're startled by her unexpected move, but you don't resist as Ellie pulls you in. Her lips are rough and demanding, sending electric shocks straight to your core. She tugs on your jeans, pulling them down; revealing your bare legs to her hungry eyes. she slowly pulling your shirt up, then unclasping ur bra. Your hands find their way to her hair, entwining themselves gently as she continues devouring your mouth hungrily. She kisses you deep, her tongue pushing against your lips until you open up for her. Her hands are everywhere, gripping your ass cheeks hard as she pulls you closer. You moan into the kiss, your body aching for more. Without breaking the kiss, Ellie pushes you back onto the couch; pinning you beneath her body with her muscular frame.

Her lips trailing down your jawline, kissing and nipping gently on your skin. You shiver at the sensation, needing her closer than ever. hissing between her teeth as she rubs against the soft fabric covering your damp pussy.

You're panting now, desperate for more of her touch. She slips two fingers beneath your panties, stroking your wet folds roughly. "You're so fucking wet." She mumbles against your skin before pulling back to look you in the eye. fuckin tease. Your breath hitches as she trails her finger along your bottom lip - a silent command to guide her further. Without hesitation, you reach down and tug her fingers towards your dripping pussy, inviting her to dive deeper. She obliges eagerly, pushing two more fingers inside you; stretching you gently as she curls them to hit your sweet spot. You throw your head back with a moan, gripping the couch beneath you as waves of pleasure wash over you. Ellie's fingers are relentless, pounding your core hard as she swirls them around until you're on the verge of cumming. She adds a third finger, stretching you even more; making your walls clench desperately around her digits. You whine loudly, urging her closer "Ellie... please..."

She leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss as she picks up speed; driving you over the edge with a fierce orgasm that has you crying out loudly.

You collapse against the couch, panting heavily as she continues to stroke you gently until your climax fades. She pulls her fingers out of your damp folds and brings them up to her mouth; sucking them clean with a satisfied moan. Her eyes meet yours, filled with lust and desire "I've wanted you for so long," She murmurs before climbing onto you completely; positioning herself over your breasts as she grinds against your still sensitive pussy. Your hips buck up automatically, desperate for her touch. She slides her sweaty pussy along your soft skin, moaning softly as she picks up speed. You reach up to stroke her hair and kisses down the side of her face; She pulls back to look down at you, her eyes smouldering with a wicked intention. "I want all of you." Without waiting for your consent - she slides off your body and hops down from the couch. Making her way over to a nearby drawer, she rummages around until she pulls out a purple strap on She comes back towards you, her eyes filled with lust as she gazes down at your glistening pussy.

Without any warning or preamble - she positions herself between your thighs once again, running the strap on along your wet slit. You let out a sharp intake of breath, arching your back as she pushes the hard plastic shaft against your entrance. "gnna make you feel s’good mama, gonna be a good little slut f’me ‘nd lemme fuck u with my cock huh?," She smirks down at you, pushing the strap on inside you slowly and deliberately until it fills you completely. She begins to thrust slowly and sensually, your moans growing louder as she hits all the right spots. She picks up speed, slapping against your skin in perfect sync with your eager cries of pleasure. You wrap your legs around her waist, clinging tightly to her as she pumps harder into you - stretching you full and satisfying every craving deep within you. Ellie's relentless pace sends a fiery heat spreading through your entire body - you moan loudly, feeling her hitting the perfect spot over and over again. She grinds against you more forcefully, biting her bottom lip in pleasure; "You're such a fucking slut for my cock." Her words send a shudder through you as she slaps your face gently - leaving behind an electrifying sting. Ellie pulls your hair, twisting it gently as she slams her hips into you harder.

"You love it don't you? You're a dirty little slut who wants every inch of my dick." She slaps you again, this time a bit harder; leaving a red handprint on your cheek while maintaining her intense rhythm inside you.

Ellie groans loudly, her body tensing up as she pulls you closer. "You've been such a little brat all these years... so fucking impatient... needing this cock so badly..." She slams herself into you once more, hitting that sweet spot with deadly accuracy; sending shivers down your spine. She continues her ferocious pounding as you pant breathlessly - your body craving more. "please don't stop," You whisper between gritted teeth, desperation coloring every word.

Ellie smirks down at you, pinching one of your nipples roughly - making you arch up into her even more. the strap on bumping against her clit- Ellie slams into you forcefully, her breathing growing heavier as she nears her climax. "That's it baby, fuckin’ take it..m’so close." She bangs harder against your g-spot - every stroke igniting sparks deep within you. You feel your orgasm building up, a fierce heat engulfing you - making it impossible to hold back any longer. "Ellie fuck im gonna-" Your cries are loud and desperate as waves of pleasure crash over you; Ellie gasps out her own climax moments later - her entire body trembling against yours.

Once she's finished cleaning you up, "here u go," she said as She tossed you an oversized t-shirt and some boxers to change into. Ellie pulls you into her arms; cradling your head on her chest. She strokes your hair gently - whispering soothing words that help chase away the lingering afterglow. You melt into her embrace, feeling safe and content in her arms. "thank u," You murmur against her soft shirt as she runs a comforting finger along your cheek.

#ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #wlw #lesbian #queer #Spotify

289 notes · View notes

milliesdiary · 2 years

Note

Imagine if the reader is friends with Jace and Luke but also betrothed to Aemond, so when he makes that offensive toast at dinner, reader gets mad and confronts him. She says that if he actually loves her, then he would stop doing those things, which leads to a confession <3

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; after a fight-provoking tribute at a family dinner, you ask aemond — your friend and betrothed — where his feelings lie.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader from an unspecified house, fluff, a bit of spice ♡

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you all for the support! also a big thank you for those who wanted to be tagged :) you keep me going! for anyone who reads this, please reblog and comment with your feedback. i fall in love with everyone who does and it means so much! i appreciate you & be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; @deeeeexx @cassianas @sweet-andromeda @thedeathofduty @evasgreentea @burningcoffeetimetravel

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄.

It started off a bit rocky, to be fair. But then Viserys’ made a plea for peace, begged for the family to heal, and the tension melted like a slab of butter in a warm hand. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Forgiveness was offered. The family was together. Your betrothed was complacent, despite being in the presence of his nephews. Alicent hid her laugh behind a hand, Rhaenyra’s pretty lips were curled into a smile that matched Daemon’s, Jace and Helaena were dancing — it was all perfect.

You’re not even sure where it went wrong. It just did.

You are laying in bed now, hours after the eventful gathering. The insomnia you're experiencing is a classic case; Aemond's tribute plays over and over in your head. You aren’t even remembering the crucial details, like what he said or what you ought to have said.

Instead, all you can recall are the expressions on Luke and Jace's faces, the way the lighthearted mood deteriorated, and the clang of your knife on your plate after dropping it in shock.

You also remember storming out of the room.

Truthfully, you are embarrassed at your future husband’s behavior. His smirk had been so arrogant that you wanted to meet it with a fist, and you probably would have if you could get away with it.

You have been betrothed to Aemond for about a moon, and while you were aware of his distaste toward his nephews, you never thought he would disrupt his family as they attempt to repair the rift between them.

Over a fucking pig.

Maybe you should have expected it.

You met Aemond when you were both children, as your father had established a peace treaty with the Targaryens at the beginning of his reign. You saw the boy get taller, watched his jaw sharpen, and stared on as his charm turned into the stern temperament of a man. He learned to ignore the things that do not serve him.

You knew that Aemond became a person of duty, of justice; he would not let things go that easily. He held a grudge with the incident. Losing his eye.

Taking that into consideration, this should not have been that big of a surprise.

And Gods, do you still want to marry him. When your father informed you about the betrothal, you were overjoyed, fit to burst, chest suddenly stuffed with the warmth of the sun and a billion ‘what ifs.’

Aemond has fascinated you throughout the years; he has always seemed so at ease and still. Unhurried and righteous. He can remain at the fireplace for a considerable amount of time, leaving you to constantly wonder what he might be thinking and how he is able to survive in such solitude.

You love him. Always have, though you are too scared to tell him. Part of you wonders if he shares the same affections.

But there’s no chance of that, is there? Aemond does not allow himself to experience attraction or establish attachments. There is no changing that. He must have agreed to the proposal because it was the right political choice; there is no other reason why he would have accepted.

Aemond loving you back? It’s impossible.

You roll over onto your side and stare at the window that sits across the room, trying to focus on the moonlight drifting through. It takes about thirty seconds of dead silence for you to realize that you might just go insane. You’re literally about to grab an extra pillow and shove it over your face — with the plan of suffocating yourself to sleep — when you hear a knock on your chamber door.

The noise almost makes you jump. For a moment, you consider not answering it, but curiosity refuses to bid you farewell. You crawl out of the sheets and reach for a match on your dresser, flicking it against the wood to conjure a flame. You ignite the oil lamp that sits on your nightstand, the light basking the room in a warm, orange glow.

You are just making your way over to the door when the knock comes again. Straightening out your nightgown and taking a deep breath, you open it.

Despite the darkness of the stone hallway, you recognize Aemond immediately.

No, it‘s not just his chiseled face that gives him away, or the long silver hair that drapes over his shoulders. It isn’t the black leather tunic he wears, hugging his lean chest. It is the way he stands: the confident way he waits for you, chin high, strong and assertive.

He’s too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people you know.

“Princess,” Aemond greets. His eye briefly looks you up and down before focusing on your face again. “Green suits you.”

Your gaze flicks down to your nightgown — made from a beautiful silk and a deep emerald, decorated in golden floral designs. It was a gift from the Queen; even though you and Aemond had not married yet, she happily proposed that you start to wear the family’s house colors. You accepted, of course.

Aemond’s compliment is so genuine that you don't know how to respond. You feel a sense of pride at his admiration. “I do not wear the color much,” you shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “But I will get used to it over time.”

“You shall,” Aemond nods. He seems pleased. Pleased that you will become a Targaryen, that you will be dressed in the color of his house until the end of your days. It is a reminder that you’re his. All his.

“My Prince,” you change the subject. “Might I ask what you are doing outside my chambers this late?”

“I have come to talk.”

You fix him with a blank stare. Talk? The last thing you want to do is talk.

“Where did my guard go?” you ask slowly.

“I advised he take a walk.”

You get a feeling that the conversation with your sworn knight did not play out that way, but this is your future husband; it probably would not be a good idea to go to sleep on a bitter note. Biting back a retort and a sigh, you open your chamber door and wave him in. Aemond struts in casually.

He acts like he owns the place with how he stands directly in the center. You dawdle by the doorway, allowing him to observe the space: he takes in the fireplace, the golden decor, and then your bed, draped in silks and the pillows similar to the fluff of clouds. It’s a beautiful room, you must admit. You take pride in it.

“You are upset about the tribute, I presume,” Aemond says finally, turning to face you. That eye of his is the perfect shade of violet; purple like a flowering bruise, unclouded and intense and determined.

“I am not upset anymore,” you lie. “I do not care.”

“You do care.”

“No.”

It is quiet for a second. Not a word uttered.

Then Aemond pries you right open. “You do.”

“Fine. I do.”

“And why is that, Princess?” He almost taunts.

You want to snap at Aemond — ask him what he means and how can he take something like this so simply. It is not a joke. A civil war is brewing among his family, yet he does not take it seriously at all. He even seems to take joy in participating. The idea has you seething.

Here Aemond is, continuing to pretend that he is harmless, that his touch is gentle, that his palms won't burn handprints into your skin. You would almost believe it if you didn’t know any better.

“With all due respect, My Prince, Jace and Luke are my dearest friends. They are kind and loyal to me, as well as their family.”

Aemond hums, uninterested. "A dog possesses the same traits.”

An anger gathers within you. It screams right into your face: this is how it shall be and you will have to deal with it.

“You are playing quite the jester today, My Prince,” you tell him. I would like to slap you across the face, is what you’re truly thinking.

Aemond lets out an amused huff at that. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room dances along his silhouette, illuminating every plane of his face. His hair is a white, jewel-drenched curtain — there’s the urge to run your hands through it.

How can someone so gorgeous cause so much chaos?

"I am exhausted," you finally sigh. You can feel how hardened your expression has become. “I am finished with miscommunications and arguments. I have tried to refrain from intense emotions and confrontations. The moment I entered King’s Landing, I told you that there was to be no drama. You promised me. And what you did at dinner? That is the trouble I stray from, yet you seem so content in dragging me back in.”

Aemond’s mouth threatens to twitch into a scowl then. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, though annoyance peeks through the cracks in his façade. “You are acting as if jests are more harmful than stealing an eye.”

“I am not saying that. I am saying that if you are to be my husband, you should be shielding me from conflict. Not causing it.”

Aemond has nothing to say to that apparently. He just gazes at you piercingly, that one violet eye intently focused on you. You try to remain steadfast, although you do feel like shrinking under the chill of his stare. Somehow, you find the courage to continue.

“If you truly respect me as your future wife — if you truly love me — then you would cease this petty game.” You steel yourself, begging yourself to be bold and ask the question. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

For a moment, you catch how Aemond’s face changes into one of surprise; he obviously was not expecting that question. It takes a couple of seconds before he fixes his jaw, training his expression into something more cool. Practiced. Poised. But then he looks at you; truly looks at you, stares you down from the inside out. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

You freeze, almost shocked by the rebuttal. You can tell he is being serious: there is a sincerity with which he wants to know.

Aemond may be wild and deranged like a dragon, thirsting for havoc, but he still aches for approval and acknowledgment. Always has. Perhaps that’s what he wants; he wants to hear that even though he fails at kindness and charity, you are still able to love him.

“Tell me,” Aemond demands. Before you can say anything, he strides forward until he’s standing right in front of you. He leans into your space, breath fluttering along your cheeks and voice almost threatening. “Do you love me? For my righteousness that drives you mad and for my lack in restraint that you so despise?”

The fire inside Aemond could kill anyone in a five mile radius; he knows it. Yet he still wants you to love him, to bravely walk into the tempest. Locate him amongst each dancing flame.

“I will accept every piece of you,” is all you can choke out.

Aemond seems to mull the words over. His face is terrifyingly neutral as he observes you carefully; he must not know impatience.

“You still never answered my question,” You blurt. “Do you love me?”

Tell me you love me, is what you really want to say.

Aemond’s face remains blank for a second.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s almost offended at the inquiry. After all the years you have spent together, all the conversations and the secrets shared and the plights experienced — how could you utter such a thing? He was the one who spoke to his mother about proposing to you. Do you really think he did it for political gain? To secure a higher seat in the ranks of royalty?

Aemond almost sneers at your ignorance. “How much longer must we be together before you acknowledge that I am not doing this for power?”

“That does not comfort me, Aemond.”

Silence. Dead silence.

The lack of an answer from Aemond makes you worry: worry that you struck a chord within him, that you have irritated him enough for him to leave, that you have made him regret accepting you as his wife.

But something changes. Slowly — agonizingly slow — Aemond takes both of your hands into his, like a silent vow without words. A white flag of surrender. His profile relaxes into something slightly softer, more reserved.

At the end of the day, he is to be your husband. If you need comfort, he will give you comfort, even if it means he has to be vulnerable.

Just for you. Only for you.

“When we were children, you once accused me of not knowing the meaning of love," Aemond starts. "But you were wrong."

You begin to breathe faster, grateful he can only discern the the direction of your emotions and nothing more. Hearing those words makes you feel something; it flutters inside your lower belly and is comparable to hope.

“I do not give a shit about anyone but you,” Aemond admits. His voice is low, deep, sincere. You almost cannot believe it.

“Is that so?” You try to sound indifferent, but it’s not convincing. His face is so, so close: your noses are almost touching.

“I would not say it if it weren’t the truth,” Aemond hums. “I did not know how to deal with my affections before, nor did I accept them. You have tortured me into becoming someone I am not.”

Tortured?

“I don’t understand—“

“You are the sword I gut myself with; that, Princess, is love."

That’s it. That’s all you needed; that reassurance, that validation. Every single ache in your heart is extinguished in a single second, every wound healed, every internalized scar covered in gauze and bandages and the homeliness that accompanies love.

More. You want him to say more. “…And you will continue to love me?”

“You are mine until death, my dear wife. I am your monster for the rest of time. I am your insanity. I am yours.”

“And me?” You whisper. You’re struggling to focus, trying to remember that you’re mad at him, but his lips are right in front of yours.

Your question nearly makes Aemond chuckle. He holds it back, a sharp exhale of air coming from his nose instead. “You are my refuge.”

“Your refuge?”

“My refuge,” Aemond repeats, his expression more resolute. “I can envision no other peace beyond the one that exists when our bodies are bound.”

“And you prefer me?” You want to be showered in his love, again and again. “Over anyone else?”

“I would choose you over all,” Aemond purrs. His tone, his accent — you could crumple to your knees. "The world is cruel and it steals from everyone, so I shall do the same. I will take what I wish. I will take you every time you are offered.”

Goosebumps threaten to rise from your body. Aemond’s hand comes down to rest on your waist, causing your breath to come out as a stutter. You’re not sure how you haven't disintegrated into nothingness. “I have loved you forever, Aemond.”

A warmth akin to sunshine rises in his face and he almost looks humored. You need him. And he needs you, though he may not outwardly admit it; needs you like you’re oxygen and he's trying to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Aemond’s hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. Your fingers fly up to grip his shoulders when your lips touch, opening your jaw for him on instinct. You grab a fistful of his leather tunic and kiss him as hard as possible, allowing his hands to conquer your body. He tastes of peppermint, smells musky like dragon.

Everything seems to be on fire. The pit of your stomach, your blood, his mouth. All you feel is the strength of his silhouette against your own and you want to remember this forever. With how Aemond holds you so firmly — almost like you might disappear any second — you can tell he feels the same. You have the power to kiss away his suffering, his years of self-hatred, his doubts, and the crushed dreams of an irrelevant future that he always imagined.

Aemond’s hands roam to your lower back, thumbs digging into the silky fabric of your nightgown. You draw him closer, brushing your thigh against his crotch to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a ‘hmm’ into your mouth.

There is nothing you desire more than to examine Aemond in full view with all lamplights on and his clothing off, to have him slowly remove this gown from your body and take his time with touching every inch. You want to run your fingertips across the ridged skin of his scar and trace it all the way down. You want to feel the weight of him flush against you, wrapped around you. You want him.

Finally, you draw away, only to whisper.

“You said you would take me whenever I am offered. Take me then, Aemond.”

A fire alights in Aemond’s eye — he’s considering it — but the flames quickly freeze over with that sense of duty. Self-control. “Not like this,” he murmurs. “But I vow to treat you to obscenities when I bed you. I will leave such marks on your body that anyone you entertain afterwards will have to know me in order to know you.”

Aemond’s words have the ability to make you shiver. It only makes you more excited for your wedding day. Even then, you still want him in this moment. Need his presence.

“Stay with me tonight, at least,” you plead. “Just share the bed with me. Nothing else. I will bribe the guards tomorrow morning so we will not get caught.”

Aemond considers you for a long while. Then, without a word, he smiles. It’s sly, yes, but oh-so beautiful.

“So you will stay?” You ask again. Aemond hums in agreement, cradling your cheek in a palm. It is a tenderness that you were not expecting, but one that you accept heartily. He nods his head before speaking.

“If you put your hand in mine, my dear wife, I will always hold it.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #millie’s works — 📓

6K notes · View notes

acewritesfics · 5 months

Text

The Clap | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: Swearing. False accusations. People spreading rumours. For the sake of the fic there is some slight Lizzy bashing.

Word Count: 1,325

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Tommy sat enraged as he watches Y/N sitting at a table in the centre of the restaurant, laughing and smiling while having dinner with a man he's never met before. He is having a dinner meeting with a potential ally in an up and coming business deal and couldn't afford for anything to go wrong. But through out the meal he couldn't take his eyes off Y/N. He hasn't seen her since before she left Small Heath a month ago. She looks absolutely beautiful in the royal blue silk and beaded dress she's wearing. It's the same dress she wore when he first took her to the races. It looked so good on her that he spent a majority of the day watching her instead of the horses.

To say he is jealous of the man in her company would be the understatement of the century. He didn't often get jealous and when he did, he could hide it in his stoic expression and thinly veiled threats. But he couldn't deny his jealousy in this moment. He was jealous that it is no longer him sitting across from her, making her laugh and smile. He was jealous that it wouldn't be him taking her home tonight.

Before he can stop himself, he's excusing himself from the table, ignoring the confused looks the potential ally was directing towards him, and walked over to the table Y/N was sat at with her date. Her look of shock didn't deter him either. "You don't want this one, mate."

"Tommy!" she gasps, her eyes filled with confusion, anger and bewilderment.

"And why's that?" the man replies standing up from his seat, not thinking about who he is standing up to. He's a good few inches taller than Tommy but the Shelby man isn't the slightest bit intimidated. He's dealt with taller and meaner looking blokes than Harold before.

"She's beautiful to look at, but that's as far as it goes, trust me," Tommy's eyes dart towards her, taking in how beautiful she looks even when she looks like she's about to kill him, before looking back at the man in front of him. "Because she has the clap."

Y/N's eyes grow wide with shock and rage as the patrons around them start to murmur to each other. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment as angry tears build up in her eyes.

"Fuck you, Thomas Shelby!" Y/N shouts at him and storms away from her date and the Peaky Blinder. She walks as hastily as she can away from the restaurant wanting to get as far away from Tommy and the embarrassment she is now feeling.

But God wasn't on her side tonight because Tommy quickly caught up with the angry woman. "Y/N, wait!"

"I've had enough of your shit, Thomas!" she growls as she continues walking, "I never want to see or speak to you again!"

Tommy stops her by grabbing her arm and turning her to face him, his face remaining calm but she could see the agitation in his eyes. He wasn't going to let whatever was bothering him alone. She's going to hear about it, whether she wants to or not.

"You end our relationship so you can go on dates with other men?" Tommy glares at his former love.

She glares back, not believing what he was saying. This wasn't like Tommy at all. He's making a fool out of himself as people found what's going on between them more entertaining than what they were doing.

"You're the one who ended our relationship when you went and fucked Lizzie Stark," she says smacking him in the chest with her handbag, when he wouldn't let go of her arm. "I told you Thomas, the one thing I won't tolerate is you fucking cheating on me!"

Y/N was born to two parents who didn't love each other. They'd been forced to marry because of an unexpected pregnancy but neither of her parents wanted to end it officially. She watched many women as well as men come into her home as both parents had their fair share of affairs. Y/N didn't want to end up like them, she refused proposals from decent men because she was afraid of becoming her mother and marrying someone like her father. But from the moment she met Thomas Shelby, everything shifted. She fell head over heels for the intelligent and dashing but sometimes stupid Birmingham gangster. She opened up to him more than she did with anyone else. It was the same for him. The two found solace within each other as well as a peace that they never found before.

And then it all ended a month ago, when she heard rumours that Tommy had spent a few hours in the company of the local whore, Lizzie Stark. When Y/N went to confront Lizzie, the tall woman gave her a triumphant look proud that she had come between Birmingham's most powerful couple. Unable to confront Tommy, her heart too shattered and broken, she went to stay with her sister out in the country for two weeks. It would have been longer but she longed to be back in Small Heath for reasons unknown to her, whether it was with or without Tommy.

"I never fucked Lizzie fucking Stark!" Tommy yells at her after she manages to yank her arm out of his grip. "You are the only one who I have been with since we got together. I would never do that to you because I love you too much."

"Then why is every body talking about it?" she yells back at him. "Now they're going to be talking about me having the fucking clap, thanks to you."

"I'll let every body know it isn't true because it's not," he tells her. "You don't have the clap and I never slept with Lizzie. I went to ask her if she had a client by the name of Andrew Jenkins, that's all. I was with her no longer than a minute."

She looks into his eyes, seeing no trace of a lie. Despite who he was, Tommy had never lied to her about his feelings or what he's done. "It's been a month, why didn't you say something?"

"Because I'm a fool," he tells her. "and got inside me own head. Told myself this was your chance to find someone better, someone who doesn't have blood on his hands and someone who can bring you more happiness than heart ache."

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I shouldn't have listened to a bunch of rumours and believed Lizzie over you," She apologises. It was her fault they broke up. She should have faced Tommy instead of running away. "I should have stayed, spoken with you and listened."

"I shouldn't have let you walk away," he begins to apologise also. "I am sorry for saying you have the clap, but I am not sorry for interrupting your dinner," he continues, moving his hands to her hips and pulling her close. "I'm a selfish man. I get what I want and what I want is you. It's always going to be you."

"I only went on a date with him to shut my sister up," she admits. Her sister was happy when Y/N told her that her and Tommy were no longer together. She didn't wait a day before she was setting Y/N up with one of her friend's brothers. "All the dates I've been on have been to keep her quiet. They have taught me one thing, though."

"Yeah? What's that, eh?" Tommy asks, cupping her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"No other man could ever compare to you, Mr Shelby," she smiles softly looking into his intense blue eyes.

"I'm one of a kind, love," he returns her smile, looking back into her eyes as he brings her into a kiss, expressing how much he loves her and missed her.

#acewritesfics repost #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

160 notes · View notes

bits-and-babs · 2 years

Text

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K], PlayBoy [3K]

Summary: Rather than telling Joel you’re thankful for him saving your life, you show him.

Word Count: 4k

CW: A bit artsy 👀 mentions of physical assault, descriptions of wounds, detailed gore. Quickie vibes. Dirty (literally) sex. Slight exhibitionism. Gagging. Possible Ep. (4) spoilers, BASED ON THE GAME.

Tease: “Good… That should keep you quiet,” he mumbles.

Squeezing the veins in your wrists, the blanched zip ties that locked your hands tightly had cut off the circulation to your fingers. You hadn’t been able to feel them when the door burst open.

He’d stormed into the ‘abattoir’, as the Pittsburgh hunters called it, with a bull-like rage. Blood from the gaping wound on your forehead seeped into your eyes, yet you could see the heaving of his chest as he descended upon the butchers with a callous ferocity.

It all felt dream-like, the sequence of his fatal dance. The dingy room was lit only by the slithers of sunlight that peeked through the boarded windows, illuminating the dripping crimson on the blade he plunged into the hunter's throat. He offers them little solace in death, moving swiftly to the next and discarding the shiv in favour of his fists.

He tears through him, knuckles devastating the face of the man who had dragged you into the room by your hair. Discarded in the corner of the death chamber, you’d been promised a skinning, to be carved up until you painted the ashen tiles rosey. Instead, the bull-man brutalises your aggressor with military precision, slamming his head into the marble catafalque with such force that fractions of his skull fly through the room, ricocheting off the ceramic-grid walls.

You considered, at the time, that it gave the same effect as firecrackers. Though, you hadn’t felt like celebrating.

“You bit?” He’d asked, detecting you on his final sweep of the room. In turn, you offered an almost comically meek shake of your head, daunted by the cruor that dripped across his face. You were inclined to remember Carrie, the pigs' blood painting her prom dress and staining her blonde hair. Likening your captor to a pig felt cruel to the swine.

Your saviour hovered, his eyes drifting over your exposed skin in search of teeth marks.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” A loud, alarmed cry of a young girl had shocked you from your trepid-haze. She lingered in the doorway, staring slack-jawed at the blood that soaks the aggressive animal she calls ‘Joel’. Her youthful face is round, dotted with freckles and her mousy brown hair is pulled up in a ponytail. Strands of her fringe frame her face, and scrapes cover her cheekbones and chin.

“Ellie,” Joel had answered with a firm tone, ordering her attention, “We gotta go; they ain’t gonna take long to fi-“

“You can’t just leave her here,” The young girl, Ellie, squeaked in utter dismay, the frantic wave of her index finger at your bindings indicating her urgency.

Joel’s expression showed his irritation, opening his mouth to argue before letting out a strangled growl. His blood-wet hands white-knuckled the shiv in the body he had discarded, pulling the weapon from its throat with a sickening squelch.

Stepping over to you, he’d slipped the shiv between your hands, slicing through the zip-ties with a single heave. The blade's flat edge painted the insides of your wrists with sticky gore.

That was six hours ago if the moon's location was anything to judge. Joel had led both you and Ellie through the savage streets of Pittsburgh, narrowly evading the Humvee that cruised the roads. With the machine gun trained on the shadows in the alleyways, the hunters implored ‘the man and the girl’ to reveal themselves; their voices tinged callously. The decaying corpse strapped to the hood of the armoured vehicle hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, and you doubt Joel, eagle-eyed as he was, had overlooked the wordless threat either.

The environment was challenging, flooded hotels with rusted elevators that were out of use and crumbling buildings that were dangerous to scale. Despite the risk, Joel remained calm and led you and Ellie through it with barely a fault.

By evening, as the lowering sun painted the bloodied streets with an ichor glow, your impromptu group had discovered more survivors- Sam and Henry. The brothers had offered shelter in exchange for company and aid crossing town. Once again, Joel had begrudgingly obliged.

Henry had opened the door to his safe house, situated within a rundown apartment building. He and Sam shared out blueberries, the kids toying around and taking turns throwing the fruits into each other's mouths before sleeping for the night, Joel insisting the two needed rest for the final frontier tomorrow.

With the children asleep, Joel and Henry set about their plan to leave the city. The uncertainty you felt about Joel’s appreciation for your presence kept you from adding to the proposal. Regardless, both men appeared confident without your input — natural leaders born from protecting their respective children.

It’s sometime past midnight. Joel sits at the window, a mixture of the silver moonlight and the golden lampposts just beyond the glass pane illuminating his face. Henry had given up his post an hour ago, retreating to a mattress in the corner of the room to recoup. Joel has taken over, lost in deep thought. His eyes scan the streets below in search of a threat, be it the homicidal Humvee or clickers crawling around in the shadows.

Unspoken gratitude sticks to your oesophagus, causing a lump in your throat. Despite his hesitation, Joel had saved you from those hunters and led you through the city until freedom was within touching distance. Something told you he was deserving of thanks for at least gifting you this golden opportunity.

Joel’s silver hair glows in the moonlight, strands of platinum against the bronze. The scar stretching across the bridge of his nose appears ruddy in the low light, drawing attention to the age-old wound and causing you to contemplate how he got it.

You know practically nothing about this man beside the obvious; His name, that he’s guardian to the young kid called Ellie, who you’re not even sure is his child. Your only other observation was that he was a brilliant battle strategist and executioner. Joel’s weapon skill is undeniable, his hands brutal and deadly with a handle or a trigger.

Regardless of this limited information which ensures he remains more of an enigma than a friend, your heart thrums wildly in your chest as you watch him, bathed in the glow of the night while protecting his new-found group of survivors.

If you weren’t so fucking hot, you’d put it down to a fever-chill, delirious with flu. Sadly, you could only put your crush-like symptoms down to years of solitude. The little kindness the gruff, staunch man had shown you had kicked your heart into overdrive, millennia of evolution and human nature begging you to search for further comfort in him. All this within six hours.

Pathetic.

Suppression of the ridiculous notion simply isn’t enough. Your body yearns for Joel’s touch. Despite the feral and frankly terrifying way he dismantled his foes, your brain has somehow managed to convince you of his suitability as a partner, a protector.

At the very least, you manage to steer your lovesick brain towards at least thanking him for rescuing you from your bindings. However, it’s as though your lips are frozen. Situated in the corner of the room, you cannot will yourself to speak, can’t urge yourself to articulate your appreciation.

Instead, you stand. Joel’s eyes snap towards you, the fingers that had been scratching at his beard stilling at the motion he detected in the corner of his eye. He seems to settle at the sight of you, though, muscles melting back into their semi-relaxed posture as you approach slowly, careful to avoid knocking anything that could wake those around you.

“Trouble sleepin’?” He broaches conversation delicately, as though he’s uncertain you’re strong enough to face communication. It’s not as though you’re surprised; you probably reminded him of a kicked puppy when he discovered you shivering and whimpering in the disgusting corner of the abattoir.

You offer a nod, which Joel returns with a slow bob of his head. His eyes flicker to the window, hawk-eyes scanning the area before turning his attention back to you. “Can’ta been easy for you.”

Swallowing thickly, you urge the words forwards from your throat. When your thanks breach your lips, to your embarrassment, your voice cracks. No sound comes out.

Joel’s eyebrow arches, the crinkles on his forehead deepening as he watches you struggle to articulate.

“You feelin’ okay?” He asks you, pupils once again dragging across your exposed skin in search of bites. The simple action has your cheeks burning in the darkness, and it’s as though he’s hypnotised you with this minute act of kindness. “You’ve been quiet since we got back.”

How pitiful that is; simply asking you if you felt okay being enough to make you fall head over heels for a stranger.

Joel shifts towards you in his seat, palm settling against the rotten wood of the window sill to steady himself. His muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his flannel, and you can’t help how your heart surges against your sternum. It’s screaming out how you want him so bad it’s almost dizzying. You want him.

“Haulin’ ass across the city like that must’a been difficult after that close call,” he continues the one-sided, hushed conversation. Clearly, this was unlike Joel’s brusque persona, but he was delicate with you, and you find it all the more endearing. “M’Sorry if it was too much, we couldn’t risk bein’ caught aga-“

You lunge forward, capturing Joel’s slightly chapped lips against your own. The sudden movement appears to have shocked the poor man, his hands hovering in the air on either side of your head and balling into fists on instinct. It’s ridiculous, but you’re trembling as you kiss him, overwhelmed with nerves at his body's rigid stance. You hear him release a haggard gasp of surprise through his nose, but he does nothing to pull you from him.

Anxiety has your body frozen in place until you feel the rough, survival-calloused touch of his palms against the skin of your arms. It urges you to search for your own anchor, your hand settling on the thick chords of his neck and your fingertips scraped by the rough texture of his beard. You’re startled by the frantic thumping of his pulse there.

It’s like you both spark into action at once. Joel’s tongue slips past your lips and traces across your tastebuds clumsily, losing all composure as you pull him closer. His fingertips are digging into the muscles of your biceps while you grasp frantically at the collar of his dirtied flannel.

It felt dream-like. Touch and affection after countless days and nights of solitude have you almost delirious when you wrap your forearms around his neck. You wonder how long he’s been on his own, his own hands frenzied as they settle on the globes of your ass. Embarrassingly, you’re whimpering at the sensation of his tongue swirling around your own and Joel’s hushing you when he pulls back.

“C’mere,” his baritone voice vibrates through you head to toe as he hooks his hands under the backs of your thighs, lifting your body for you to cling to him. His equanimity long forgotten, Joel appears to clutch at this opportunity for intimacy as desperately as you do, carrying you across the floor of the room. He’s careful not to rush, quiet as he passes the sleeping children to approach one of the doors to another room.

You’re a menace, dragging your tongue across the vein protruding through the veil of skin across his neck. He tastes salty, sweat clinging to him from the efforts of escaping the hunters and a twinge of iron from the blood that had washed off in the flooded hotel. You’re already addicted to his musky scent, moaning softly against his throat. It earns you a yank of your hair in warning, his body pushing through a doorway and clicking the lock behind you before you yelp out in surprise.

“Told you to be quiet,” he mumbles hoarsely, lacking any sense of admonishment.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his skin, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt in an attempt to strip him and gain further access. Joel carries you in the almost pitch blackness, using the moon's low light dripping through the far window to locate a sofa. He lowers you down onto the dusty fabric, but neither of you seems bothered by the less-than-ideal location - the likelihood of surviving tomorrow to get another chance at this was slim.

The wall between you and the rest of the group seems to settle Joel, his actions a little less restrained. He sinks his hips between your thighs, knees resting on the cushions as his hands drag up the peaks and troughs of your ribcage and a squeeeze at the flesh of your breasts. It causes your hips to lift from the sofa, grinding against his own blindly. The whines that leak from your lips are obscene, erect nipples brushing his rough palms as he grips at your boobs.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel moans mindlessly, leaning down quickly to press his lips to yours and mute your filthy noises. Your knees hook over his hip bones, the heels of your feet pushing against his ass to pull him harder against you in a desperate attempt to feel closer to him.

Somewhere between groping in the darkness and kissing him breathlessly, you hear Joel let out a ragged gasp of his own, your clothed crotch rubbing just right at his growing erection.

Fervently, you’re grabbing at his belt and battling the darkness to unhook the prong from the leather. Joel’s palms are pushing under the hem of your t-shirt, raising it over the curve of your breasts so that the bunched-up material settles just under your throat. This way, he has unfettered access to the naked swell of your boobs. He envelopes your nipple with his mouth, tongue swirling over the nub and dragging a needy whimper of his name from your throat.

Somehow, between the mess of limbs and bundled-up fabric, you manage to unhook his belt. Slipping it from the loops in his jeans, you throw it to the floor recklessly. The metal of the discarded buckle clatters against the wooden floor, and you can’t help the bubbling complaints in your chest when Joel pauses his ministrations at the loud noise.

He’s listening out for the group waking, you know this, but you’re so desperate that you’re frantically shoving your hand underneath the seam of his trousers and gripping at the velvety shaft of his cock. Joel groans against the supple flesh in his mouth, holding your other breasts in a bruising, punishing grip.

“Fuck-“ he mumbles illegibly against your skin, releasing it from his mouth with an audible pop. “So fuckin’ desperate. You like havin’ your tits out for me like this?” There’s a flutter of amusement in his voice, feverish at how your body responds to his touch.

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you agitatedly grab at him with a soft whimper. Joel lets out a pleased hum as you flick the button of his jeans, pulling the fly down to hurry him up. A thatch of curls peaks from behind the bottom of the zipper, exposing his nakedness beneath his trousers. Your eyes flicker up to Joel in shock, skin burning.

Joel doesn’t offer you a moment to address his commando-ness, instead hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your jeans. He doesn’t bother to unbutton them, instead opting to wrench them over the width of your hips with a strong heave. Your underwear goes with them, the tightness of the unforgiving fabric of your jeans dragging them down your thighs and bruising your hip bones.

You’re grasping blindly at the armrest above your head as Joel spreads your legs wide, his hands settled on the backs of your thighs. He hasn’t even bothered to remove his jeans entirely; the waistband dropped just above his knees.

“Fuck-“ He grits out between his teeth, sweeping the tip of his cock through the weeping mess between your folds. You’re soaked. You can hear it, the glossy wetness loud in the quiet of the room as he lubricates the head of his dick with your cum.

He nudges against your neglected clit, and the barely there friction is enough to rip a choked sob from you. Your knuckles strain at how hard you grip the corduroy fabric of the sofa. Joel’s hold on you is equally strained, grabbing handfuls of flesh from your thighs and pulling until it aches.

Your pussy clenches as he drags himself back through your folds, settling the head of his dick against your entrance. His chest is heaving, steadying himself against the arousal humming in his bones. It had been years of loneliness, no doubt for the two of you, and you weren’t confident it would last longer than a few moments.

Slowwwwly, he’s sheathing himself inside you with a steady roll forward of his hips. Your toes curl into the small of his back as he stretches you open with his length, pressure building deep in your abdomen already. Joel lets out a strained growl as he slams his fist into the cushion beneath your head.

“F-uck-“ he chokes out, watching your head tilt back into the sofa, your jaw slack. It’s like he’s pushing the oxygen out of your body to make room for him, your lungs burning white hot.

Joel’s forehead braces against your collarbone, rattling breaths indicating the strain your heat has on his concentration. “Christ- I just- fuck, gimmie a minute.”

His cock is throbbing inside you, nudging against your walls as you spread your thighs wider. His breath is hot against your skin, fanning across your sternum and grounding you from the intense strain against his width.

Joel manages to collect himself eventually, nodding weakly and steadying his palm against the sofa’s armrest. He uses his other hand to tilt your hips upwards, testing the waters by slowly pulling himself from your sopping heat and inching inside you again slowly.

It’s as though he’s punched you in the gut, dispelling what little oxygen you had left and winding you. A high-pitched wail falls from your mouth, and he’s quick to cover your lips with his palm, groaning out as he pushes himself flush inside you. You swear you can see his lashes flutter as his eyes roll back, your tight walls driving him insane.

“Shut up,” he somewhat begs you, nose pushed into the soft flesh of your cheek as he whispers into your ear. Then he’s grinnddding up against something utterly devastating inside you, heaving gasps of his name leaving you from behind his hand.

“JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you sob, tears welling as his cock splits you open again. Your cunt is loud too, creaming around his dick as you cry loudly. Joel’s laughing weakly, finding your almost devastating arousal amusing if a little nerve-wracking considering you’re definitely being too loud.

“This ain’t gonna work,” Joel mumbled softly, slipping out from you again. It causes you both to gasp at the loss of friction, your hips pushing back against your will in search of his touch.

“N-No wait-“ you beg with a whisper, scared he’s giving up on this, “I can be good, I’ll be quiet, I promise-“

Joel cuts off your rambling suddenly, looping his arm underneath your hips and heaving you over until you lay flat on your stomach. You feel his abdomen resting against your back, arching over you as he reaches over your body.

“Joe-“ you attempt to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t make it that far. Joel’s fingers slide into your mouth, pushing down on the flat of your tongue and sinking down your throat. You gag around them at first, surprised by the intrusion.

A rumble sounds beside your ear, Joel humming in appreciation as you grow accustomed to the feeling and begin to suck on his digits. “Good… That should keep you quiet,” he mumbles, nose pressing into your hair as his free hand angles your hips upwards again.

You feel him notch against your entrance again before slowly grinding himself back into you. He stretches you nicely this time, sinking inside to the hilt until his hips meet the curve of your ass. Whimpers leaking from your lips are smothered by the blockage of his fingers in your mouth.

“Perfect.”

With that, Joel pulls his hips back before slamming back inside of you to the point it jolts your body up the sofa. You sob out; the sound blocked in your throat as Joel sets a brutal pace, pounding into you so hard that your ears start ringing. The slapping of his skin meeting yours and quiet curses dripping from his mouth is all that sounds through the room.

Your stifled cries rise in pitch despite their muted volume, the head of Joel’s dick pushing up against something utterly ruinous inside you. His hand on your hip uses your body as a counterweight, pulling you back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, and it’s like your vision is swimming.

“Oh god-“ you choke out around his fingers, but it comes out all slurred and incoherent, your body trembling at the rising pressure building inside it.

“Mhmm f-fuck,” Joel hums into your ear, beginning to lose composure already. “God— ‘m gonna cum, fuckin’— so tight. ”

Joel reached around your waist, feeling blindly through his thrusts for your clit. It doesn’t take long, and a single, delicate brush against the sensitive nerves has your eyes rolling back in your skull while everything below your hips clamps down suddenly.

You go rigid, squeezing his cock tightly through your mind-melting orgasm. The muscles of your thighs are trembling, and you let out a hoarse shout that Joel only just manages to suppress by shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, to the point your teeth press into the back of his palm hard.

Pathetic whimpers are all you can manage as he suddenly slows down, his grip on you almost bruising as you bear down on him. “Ngh— Fuckin’ shit-! I’m—“

Joel’s fumbling to get out of the confines of your greedy cunt, grabbing ahold of his cock with his palm and barely managing to pump it more than once before he’s cumming, the warm yet feeling of his cum spurting across your back causing your sore muscles to contract in shock. You hear him growl quietly, and it sounds like he’s biting his lip to hold in the sinful noises.

When the ringing dissipates, you hear the panting from both of your lungs, Joel’s ragged as he removes his fingers from your mouth, strings of saliva trailing from your lips. He leans back against the sofa, groaning softly. You glance over your shoulder, unable to find the strength to lift your body yet. He’s rubbing at his face with his hands, looking utterly exhausted.

“Christ,” his accent seems thicker like this, slurred with bliss and fatigue. “That your way’a sayin’ thank you?” His question hangs in the air before his eyes glance at you.

Nodding slowly, you offer a wordless answer which causes him to let out a single, short exhale—something like a laugh.

“Mhm. It’s a pretty interestin’ way of showin’ gratitude.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” you whisper to him shyly, your voice hoarse from his fingers shoved down your throat.

He tilts his head back slowly, arms resting against the back of the sofa, and shakes his head slowly. No, he didn’t. Chances are the group wouldn’t make it past the Humvee tomorrow, and if the armoured vehicle didn’t get them, the guards on the bridge just might.

“Get some rest,” he whispers to you, standing up from the sofa on unsteady legs and pulling his jeans up. “Gotta go back on watch, and you gotta be ready for the shit storm comin’ tomorrow.”

A smile plays on your lips, watching him redress. Sounds like you’re invited to join in on his little escape plan after all. You remember how he dismantled the hunters when he saved you, the brutal nature of ripping him down each threat with frightening skill.

Somehow you felt you’d be just fine.

“Got it.”

END

Taglist 🏷️: @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

#Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fic #Joel miller imagine #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou #1k+ club

1K notes · View notes

wisteriaw0rld · 1 year

Note

can i pls request sekido w/reader who's like rlly caring and stuff, and understands his rage when he snaps at them when they try to take care of him after a battle? ik its kinda overused but pls?

-ˋˏ ༻opposites༺ ˎˊ-

✰synopsis: sekido with an s/o that’s his polar opposite yet still knows how to handle being with someone so short-tempered and harsh.

✰additional tags: gn! reader, cursing, small mention of blood, reader getting yelled at, not proof read!

✰pairing: sekido x kind! reader

“if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed.” -Lana Del Rey

You sat patiently on your zabuton, waiting for your lover , Sekido, to return from a mission he went on with the other clones you’ve learned to grow comfortable with. Suddenly, the front door opened, making your head whip to the direction of the door.

Karaku and Urogi walked in first, Aizetsu walking in right after both of them. Karaku looked over at you, mouthing something you could hardly understand.

“He’s real mad Y/n.” Karaku warned with a small laugh at the end. Before you could respond, Sekido walked in. He always had an angered expression on his face. But just by noticing the way he stormed inside, you could tell he was even more mad now.

A gentle smile made its way onto your lips as you stood up off your zabuton cushion, walking over to hug Sekido. Before you could even walk any closer to the demon, he shot you a look. Your arms faltered as you understood he’d like to be alone.

Not even having time to say anything, Sekido stormed off, muttering something under his breath while walking over to your shared room.

You followed after him, peeking your head into the room. Frustrated, Sekido paced back and forth around your room, muttering incoherent words.

“Love? Are you alright?” You questioned, now fully opening the shoji door and confronting your boyfriend.

Sekido glared at you, not wanting to deal with anyone. But you both knew this outburst of his would last for weeks if someone didn’t cool him down. “Leave me alone, Y/n!” He yelled at you. Of course, your gentle features were enough to make him cool down for a short while.

“What happened dear?” You asked the male. He ignored you, his looks not once softening. Sekido shoved you slightly as he moved past you.

“Stupid Urogi and Karaku wouldn’t take the fight seriously! And Aizetsu was just pitying the demon slayers the entire time!” Sekido ranted as your kind aura remained the same and never once faltered.

“sekido.”

“-and they never even take things serisously!”

“sekido.”

“-you know it’s help if they just listened to me!”

“sekido, how about you take a small break and calm down?” You offered with a smile before suddenly grabbing Sekido’s hand and pulling him onto the soft futon with you. Sekido’s face became a bright red but accepted your tight hold on him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ʚsome headcanonsɞ˚ (bc I love this idea sm)

❥the other clones definitely tease sekido for falling in love with someone that’s his complete opposite. And they find it incredibly shocking that you have the patience to deal with his very short temper.

♥even though you know sekido can very easily regenerate, you love when he comes back with a wound and lets you care for him. A bonus for him is the happy look on your face when you tend to him.

❥on multiple occasions, he’s though that you’re too kind for him and he doesn’t deserve you. So more importantly he feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Even worse when you take no reaction to it and never love him less.

♥whenever Sekido’s in a bad mood, the clones immediately go to you and beg you for help. They don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to calm him down.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #x reader #x y/n #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #kny x reader #sekido x you #sekido x y/n #sekido x reader #hantengu clones x reader #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones #upper moon four

519 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 3 months

Text

Echoes and Shadows - Part 5

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N

Warnings: Fights, Dead, mentioning miscarriage, blood, hurt, fluff ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language

Words: 3000

*Does not follow the boys storyline *

In the 1950, Soldier Boy had to train a train a young girl supe named Y/N, she had a "nice girl next door" persona. Soldier Boy hated it at first, until they started to work together, he seemed to start to like this kid.

Years passed and Y/N didn’t seem to age a lot either. To her it seemed that Ben started to respect her. The two of them worked together just fine until his team Payback was assembled.

His relationship with Crimson made her feel alone, and her bond with Noir made him jealous. It goes without saying her and Crimson Countess where never best friends.

Y/N's mind swam with the flood of memories, the painful flashback receding as the present came back into focus. Annie sat across from her, a mix of shock and concern on her face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The kitchen was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of the front door opening. Ben stepped in, his face a mix of surprise and worry as he saw both Y/N and Annie in tears. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he quickly crossed the room to them.

Y/N, her hands trembling, pushed the stack of medical files to his chest. Ben took the papers, his eyes scanning the contents. Y/N swallowed hard, steeling herself for what he had to say.

Annie, sensing the need for privacy, quietly excused herself, leaving Y/N and Ben alone in the dimly lit kitchen.

“Is that what you wanted to keep from me, Ben?" Ben's expression shifted, the memories clearly resurfacing for him as well. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before speaking.

"Y/N, it was... you were never the same," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "You were depressed, sad, angry." Ben hesitated, then continued. "You had a lot of pain, and there was nothing I could do." He paused, taking her hands in his.

She pulled back “You could have stayed.” Ben looked confused. ”What?” Y/N’s lip trembled, “You could have stayed the morning after... You could have stayed with me when I lost...” Y/N could see she was working on his nerves.

"You said I needed to leave!”

She got closer to him, fingers pointing to his chest. “Because you accused Noir! It was you who fucked me Ben, it was you who said all the right words to get me to sleep with you. It was you who I told that I needed, no wanted a steady relationship. It was you who left before the morning and acted like nothing ever happened. It was you who used me! It was YOU who was the FUCKING father!”

Both Ben and Y/N’s eyes started to tear. “I know” Ben said his lip trembling “I know... I know that."

The weight of the moment pressed heavily on both of them, the revelations and emotions swirling around them like a storm. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Ben took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "Because you didn't remember," he explained, his voice pained, "I didn't want to put you through it all over again."

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. "But you knew it wasn't Earving's right? How did you find out, did I told you it was yours?" Ben hesitated, the memory clearly painful for him. "There was a moment, after you got home from the hospital," he began, his voice low.

"I was angry, confused. I thought... I thought you had been with someone else. I accused you of sleeping with Noir of cheating on me." Y/N's eyes widened in shock.

“So I... I asked Vogelbaum for the test results they did after you refused to answer who’s it was. I wanted to confront you...” He continued. “He eh, also said you asked to eh... make sure that could never happen again.”

Y/N nods remembering the conversation.” He said he’d do it if he could use my DNA for tests.” Ben took a step closer, “In ‘80 he asked me to get tested too. Probably to make sure something like that never happens again.”

She got up “Probably.” and moved to the bedrooms.” Hey” Ben said, Y/N turned around.” I never meant to hurt you. I’m not a bad guy... you know that.” Y/N sniffed “I don’t know what to believe anymore Ben.” before she left for her room.

Ben lay on his back, staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. The familiar shapes of the furniture took on ghostly forms in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His mind was a labyrinth of tangled thoughts and regrets.

He turned onto his side, trying to escape the memories that flooded his consciousness, but it was useless. The soft, heart-wrenching sobs from the next room pierced the silence, each cry a dagger in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore the sound, but Y/N's grief was impossible to ignore.

It was a Deja vu from 1979, the year everything changed, the year he lost her thanks to his own fucking stupid mistakes. The memory came rushing back with a clarity that was almost painful. "The baby was yours." Vogelbaum had said, Ben had been numb at first, unable to process the enormity of the loss.

But Y/N had been devastated, her sorrow a palpable force that hung over them like a dark cloud. He had been such a fool. He remembered the way suspicion had gnawed at him, how he had convinced himself that the child couldn't be his.

The guilt gnawed at him now, years later, as he lay in the dark. He had betrayed her trust, accused her of infidelity, while he himself was entangled in a multiple affairs. The irony was bitter on his tongue.

The fights with Crimson Countess had become more frequent and more violent after Y/N lost the baby. Ben knew, deep down, that she had always known the truth. The baby had been his, a cruel twist of fate that he couldn't accept at the time. He had projected his own guilt and shame onto Y/N, using anger to mask his fear.

The sobs from the next room intensified, a crescendo of anguish that echoed through the walls. Ben's heart ached with the knowledge that he was the cause of her pain. He had never truly understood how deeply she had been wounded until it was too late.

Crimson Countess had been a reckless attempt to escape the reality of his own failures. But the more he fought with her, the more he saw the truth reflected in her eyes. She had known all along that he wanted Y/N but was too scared, and she had used that knowledge to manipulate him, to keep him under her control.

The doubt and anger had twisted him into someone he no longer recognized. Ben sat up in bed, the weight of his remorse pressing down on him. He couldn't change the past, but he could try to make amends.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet. He hesitated for a moment, then walked to the door and quietly opened it. The hallway was dark, the only light coming from the sliver under Y/N's door.

He moved silently, each step a reminder of the countless times he had walked this path before. He paused outside her room, listening to the sound of her sobs, his heart breaking anew.

Ben knocked softly, the sound barely audible. There was a moment of silence, then the door opened a crack. Y/N's tear-streaked face appeared, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "What?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I'm... sorry, Y/N," he said, his voice trembling but honest. She looked at him for a long moment, the pain in her eyes a mirror of his own. Then, slowly, she opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside.

Ben gently lifted Y/N off the ground, feeling her small frame tremble against him. He carried her to the bed, settling her gently against his chest. The years of distance and unspoken pain melted away as he held her close, his hand moving soothingly over her back.

He pressed his lips to her hair, whispering words of comfort that he hoped could bridge the chasm between them. "It's okay, let it all out" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore."

Her sobs gradually slowed, turning into shaky breaths. Each exhale was a fragile testament to the weight of her sorrow. Ben continued to stroke her back, the rhythmic motion intended to calm the storm of emotions within her. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, a rapid, fragile flutter that gradually steadied.

Y/N nestled closer against Ben, drawing strength from his embrace. But the question that had lingered in her mind for years surfaced, raw and demanding answers. "Ben, why didn't you ever choose me? Was I not good enough?"

Her voice was a whisper, tinged with a pain that had never fully healed. Ben's breath caught in his throat. He had known this question would come someday, but facing it now, with her fragile and vulnerable in his arms, made it all the more excruciating.

He tightened his hold on her, as if by doing so he could shield her from the painful truth. "I..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I never thought I was good enough for you, Y/N. You were always this incredible, kind, and beautiful person, and I... I was flawed, broken.”

He took a deep breath. “Once I got to know you, I felt like I didn't deserve you, like I would only drag you down... and I did." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for sincerity. "But you were everything to me, Ben. I loved you. I needed you. I sticked with you since the first day we were introduced."

"I know," he said, his voice breaking. "And I failed you. It was easier to push you away, to hide. It was cowardly, and it was wrong." Y/N's fingers tightened on his shirt, her knuckles whitening.

"I would have never asked you to choose me, but when you said you wanted to be the man I wanted, I believed you." Ben closed his eyes, the memory of that terrible time slicing through him like a knife. “I meant it, I just... freaked out in the morning.”

“Why?” He looked in her eyes, the honesty reflecting in his green pearls. “I saw everything I dreamt of. You, me a life together somewhere in the country, sitting on a porch watching our grandkids...”

He could see the tears in her eyes shine, but also a soft smile on her lips. “And then I thought about what my father said, and I... just... ran. Afraid of losing what we had. Afraid to fuck everything up, which, I know I did by treating you that way. But still, you would have the opportunity to find a man who isn’t a disappointment, like fucking Noir.”

He looked at his hand that was still caressing her back. Y/N’s hand moved over his cheek, his beard feeling rough against her skin. “You are not a disappointment, Ben.” She lifted herself and softly placed her lips on his. “An idiot, yes, disappointment never.” He smirked.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Ben and Y/N still entwined in each other's arms, the comfort of their closeness a balm to years of pain. They had fallen asleep at some point during the night, their bodies and hearts finally finding a moment of peace.

But that peace was shattered by the loud, insistent pounding on the door. "Oi! Wakey, wakey!" Butcher's voice bellowed through the wood. "Get yer arses up! We got work to do." Ben stirred, blinking groggily as he sat up, his arm still wrapped protectively around Y/N.

She awoke with a start, her eyes wide and disoriented. The brief moment of tranquillity was gone, replaced by the urgency of Butcher's call. "What's going on?" Y/N asked, her voice still husky from sleep. Ben frowned, his mind racing to catch up. "Sounds like Butcher found something."

They dressed quickly, the previous night's intimacy giving way to the practical need for action. When they emerged from the room, Butcher was waiting in the hallway, his expression a mix of impatience and grim determination.

"We found Mindstorm," Butcher said without preamble. "He's holed up in a compound not far from here. We need to move fast." Y/N's heart quickened at the mention of Mindstorm. She had her own reasons for wanting to find him, reasons she hadn't yet shared with Ben.

"I'm coming with you," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Butcher raised an eyebrow. "This ain't a sightseeing tour, love. It's gonna be dangerous."

"I know," Y/N replied firmly." Ben looked at her, concern etched on his face. "Y/N, are you sure? This is just about getting revenge. You know that right?" She met his gaze, her eyes steady. "I'm sure, Ben." Butcher glanced at Ben, then back at Y/N.

After a long moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But you stay close, and if things go south, you follow my lead. Got it?" - "Got it," Y/N agreed, relief flooding through her. They set out together, the tension of the upcoming confrontation hanging heavy in the air.

As they neared Mindstorm's compound, Y/N's resolve only strengthened. She knew this was her chance to reclaim the pieces of herself that had been lost. She acted like she changed her mind. Staying behind with the car. Ben and Butcher looked with suspicion but moved on.

But before Butcher or Ben could make a move, Hughie appeared beside Mindstorm in a blink, grabbing his arm. "Now!" Y/N shouted, and in an instant, they were gone, teleported. She knew this was her chance, and she was determined to uncover the truth about her past, no matter what it took.

Mindstorm looked frightened, his eyes darting around as if expecting Soldier Boy or Butcher to appear at any moment. Hughie stood beside him, ready to teleport them away at the first sign of trouble.

"Y/N," Hughie said, relief evident in his voice as she approached. "We don't have much time." She with her eyes still closed said. "I need to talk to him. Alone." Hughie hesitated, then gave a quick “ok”

With that, he stepped out of earshot, leaving Y/N alone with Mindstorm. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath steadying herself. "Mindstorm, I need your help."

"Help?" he echoed, his voice shaking. "Why would I help you? You know what they’ll do to me if they find me." She opened her eyes, her expression resolute. "Because I can get you out of here. Hughie will take you anywhere you want to go, away from Soldier Boy, away from Vought. But I need you to give me back my memories first."

Mindstorm swallowed hard, his fear evident. "I... I can't. If they find out..." "They won't," Y/N interrupted, her voice firm. "This is your chance to disappear. To start over. But I need to know the truth. I need to know what happened to me."

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. Y/N stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. "I know Vought had you do it. There's no way I would forget such a significant part of my past just from a fight. You erased my memories, didn't you?"

Mindstorm nodded, guilt and fear warring in his expression. "Yes. Vought ordered it. They wanted to protect their secrets. They didn't care about what it would do to you." "Give them back," Y/N demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. "I need to know everything." and in a second he did.

She felt a strange sensation, like a gentle tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Images and feelings began to flood back, overwhelming her senses. She saw herself with Ben, their happy moments before the tragedy of losing their unborn child.

She felt the crushing grief, the accusations, the betrayal. She remembered the day Vought had taken her, to a room where Mindstorm had erased her memories. Tears streamed down her face as the memories continued to pour in, each one a sharp reminder of the life she had lost.

Mindstorm looked at her, his expression a mixture of pity and relief. "It's done. You have them all back." Y/N wiped her tears, her resolve hardening. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady. "Now, go with Hughie. He'll take you somewhere safe."

Before Mindstorm could react, Ben hurled a knife with lethal precision. The blade buried itself in Mindstorm's eye, eliciting a bloodcurdling scream. He fell to his knees, clutching his face as blood streamed down. Ben didn't hesitate. He grabbed Mindstorm by the hair, dragging him to the ground.

"You think you can mess with her mind and get away with it?" Ben snarled, slamming Mindstorm's head against the floor. "You think you can ruin our lives and walk free?" Mindstorm's voice was barely a whisper, choked with pain and fear. "Please... I was following orders. Vought... Vought made me do it." Ben hesitated, his grip loosening slightly.

Y/N and Hughie heard Ben yell.

"What are you talking about?!" Mindstorm coughed, blood trickling from his mouth. "They needed you gone. Both of you. Vought... had a plan, they made a baby. Born in 1981. A replacement for you. They couldn't have you around, too much of a liability. And they couldn't risk Y/N remembering."

Y/N's eyes widened when seeing Ben’s anger flare “WHAT! That’s impossible!” he yelled, her breath catching in her throat. "Ben stop! STOP!" With a brutal motion, Ben slammed his shield into Mindstorm's head, over and over.

The supes' body went limp. a heavy silence fell upon them, broken only by the ragged breathing of Ben. "What did he say?" she asked when he walked past them. "Ben?"

But he ignored her and walked on.

------

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27

@cevansbaby-dove @n-o-p-e-never

@call-me-mrs-winchester @muhahaha303 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @loving4ngel

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #soldier boy #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys fanart #they boys series #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen fucking ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #the boys jensen #fight scene #flashback #Shadows and Echoes fanfic

67 notes · View notes

lostgracestories · 10 months

Text

What am I to you? - Sukuna x Reader

Okay, so this was the winner of the most recent poll that I did to get ideas and it took me a couple days to get to it cause I got a little busy but I hope you enjoy this!

tw: really angsty, VERY minor physical altercation (reader gets pushed), female reader, also Sukuna. Because he's his own trigger warning.

wc: 1.2k - also not proof read.

pt 2

How long had this been going on… How long had it been since this all started…? You stared across the room at Yuji’s body, now adorned with Sukuna’s markings. You had graduated 2 years ago and never had issues with Yuji losing control of Sukuna in high school but now here he was, standing in your living room.

You and Yuji were roommates for the sake of saving money. Neither of you had any feelings for each other. You prayed that Yuji would never discover the nature of these meetings between you and Sukuna.

You and Sukuna had been meeting almost daily to talk. It startled you the first time because he was so threatening, however, you slowly began to lose the fear of him. It had been so odd though when he first met with you. He had been watching you read and write poetry and claimed he was amused that you shared one of his interests. That was then, this is now.

You and Sukuna had argued recently. A few months prior to this meeting, he had made the mistake of getting too involved with you. He had allowed you to fall for him by mistake and he had allowed you to kiss him. The night after that had sparked a fight. You desperately wanted to understand the relationship the both of you had. He had threatened and insulted you then he disappeared from your life, ceasing all meeting with you for three whole months. That is until now.

“You’ve been toying with me, brat”

Sukuna starts the conversation, irritated and angry. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him. What was he talking about? If anything he had been toying with you.

“Excuse me?”

You meet his tone with the same attitude, except you seem a little more irritated than him.

“If I recall you’re the one who stopped meeting with me for a whole 3 months because you were butt hurt that I wanted to know what we are!!”

You shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him, your feet thunking against the wood floor. When you reach Sukuna, you jab your finger into his chest and practically scream at him. Sukuna just stands there in shock. If it had been anyone else, he would have sliced them up by now for even looking at him funny. But why did he always refrain from doing that to you? What was it about you?

“YOU don’t get to say that I’ve been toying with you!! If anything, I’ve been playing your stupid little games since these meetings started!!!”

Sukuna looks at you, his eyes narrowed but he can feel a sinking feeling in his stomach that betrays how he wants to feel about you right now. He wanted to convince himself over the three months that these meetings were unnecessary and he owed you nothing but truthfully, those 8 months felt like years. It irked him so deeply that he had to confront you about it. You had done something to him. Not the other way around, your anger was unjustified to him. And yet he couldn’t open his mouth to speak.

You stay silent for a moment before looking directly up into Sukuna’s eyes, searching for something in him that cared, but his barrier stayed up. His barrier was so thick, hiding his true intentions, he was a master at hiding his intentions and giving into bloodlust. A frown replaced the anger in your face when you realized you couldn’t see through him. You kept your eyes on his, still searching as you spoke quietly and softly.

“Why did you let me kiss you that night… Am I just a toy in one big game to you…?”

Sukuna feels his chest tighten and holds his breath as he looks into your eyes. Unlike him you were an open book. Looking into your eyes was like pouring alcohol onto a deep wound. It made his face twist up into an unreadable expression for a moment after you spoke.

He didn’t owe you a response and yet… he couldnt stop his lips.

“No”

“No what Sukuna, no I’m not a toy?”

“No you’re not. You’re confusing”

Sukuna’s words catch you off guard and you furrow your brows again as you keep your gaze trained on him.

“I’m confusing…?”

“I feel suffocated being near you”

You go silent again for what feels like an eternity before he breaks the silence.

“You have put a spell on me woman”

You scoff in disbelief, is he still toying around with you? Could you really believe anything he said?

“I have not”

“It is the only explanation for the tightness that burdens my chest near you woman! You have bound my soul to you to bend to your will!”

You burst out in laughter finally, you have never heard the king of curses become so desperate. You were beginning to realize the nature of the situation. You figured that he had never been in love before and this whole concept was new to him. You pursed your lips, thinking of something to say while Sukuna looked at you like you were crazy for laughing at him.

“You laugh at my suffering woman?!”

“Sukuna, I haven’t put a spell on you. That tightness in your chest is a reaction to loving somebody. If you had wanted to cut contact with me that night you would have never returned to me in such a sour mood. You thought of me those entire 3 months”

Sukuna glared at you for even suggesting that was the case. He shoved you away from him to get distance and the sinking feeling struck him again along with an instinctual urge to pull you back to him.

You stood there, looking at him in shock. He could have done way more than push you but that push irked you to the very core of your soul and your expression soured once again.

“You know what, fine. Be that way! Go back to hiding in your prison inside Yuji’s mind! I don’t care what feelings you have for me, figure it out yourself and don’t talk to me again! I don’t want to meet with you ever again!”

Sukuna looked at you, angry and dumbfounded that you were demanding him to do things.

“You have no authority to demand things of me woman! I do what I please!”

“I DON’T CARE”

Your scream causes his jaw to clamp shut. He had never heard you so angry before. He grumbled a curse to you under his breath before traveling back to Yuji’s room and laying his body down in the bed, swapping out with him so that he wouldn’t become suspicious of why Sukuna was standing in front of you who was so angry.

You on the other hand grabbed your keys and left the house, slamming the door behind you. You didn’t know where you were going but you needed to get away from the house to process your anger and frustration. You walked to your car, unlocking it with the keys and quickly pulling open the drivers side door, getting in and driving away.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #angst #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #aged up characters #aged up au #jjk fanfic

199 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 2 years

Text

A High Price - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

She's been with Joel and Ellie since the beginning. When she finds out Joel's plans for Tommy to go with her and Ellie the rest of the way, she decides it's time to end whatever closeness they had shared. But a change of plans and a brush with death forces both of them to come to terms with just how much they’re willing to pay to hold onto each other.

warnings | 18+ angst, smut, canon-typical violence

a/n | this fic follows the events of episode 6 verrryyy closely, but I fixed it :) but also, it's a doozy folks, you've been warned

The town of Jackson is making her nervous. Mostly because she can see how uneasy Joel has been since they got here, how he wearily eyes the children that seem to be everywhere, his dismay at the sight of Christmas decorations . She can’t help but feel much the same, it’s like they’ve found the one place in the world where time paused before everything went to shit, and after months on the grizzled road, it’s far more than just a shock to the system. Ellie seems equally perturbed, and her hackles have been up from the start.

She softened a bit after a shower and a clean change of clothes, had laughed at the gift Maria had left for Ellie. She had to explain to the girl how the menstrual cup worked, the humor of it quickly rolling over into sorrow when she realized that she herself hadn’t needed to worry about that for twenty years, her body too flooded by a constant stream of cortisol. It made sense really, her body knew there was no use trying to create life when the whole world had rolled over in death. A streak of pain shot through her when she saw that Maria was in fact pregnant, followed quickly by a stark anger that she smothered out before it got the better of her.

Joel had skulked off to try to resole his boots, leaving her and Ellie under Maria’s charge. She had offered them both haircuts at her house and while it was nice, to be taken care of, her heart was stinging with the sight of Sarah’s name on that chalkboard. She didn’t know much, but she knew enough for it to be like a slap to the face when she saw it.

Maria had taken Ellie along to a town movie while she had returned to the house they were staying in to get some sleep, and try to shake off that uneasy feeling that had settled in her spine. She finds Joel’s pack in what she supposes is the master bedroom, slipping into the large bed and waiting for the warmth of his body to tangle with hers. They had picked up some habits along the road, falling into something with each other that she knew would never be called anything other than comfort. It was fine, she figured she’d take him anyway that he’d let her have him.

She must have dozed off, because much later she’s startled awake by the sound of shouting coming from down the hall. It sounds like Joel and Ellie, but she still grabs her gun before creeping down the hall towards where all the noise is coming from, light seeping through the crack of the ajar door. She shoulders up against the doorframe, tucking her gun into the waist of her jeans and listening in to the pair’s argument. Her head spins at the information that Joel has asked Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way, the harsh words he spits at the young girl. Ellie shouts back at him.

“Well, what about her, Joel? What’s she gonna do?” Ellie says her name like a broken question and Joel huffs.

“I don’t know. She’s better off without me too. Can do whatever the fuck she wants for all I care.” His words take her breath away, and she doesn’t have time to catch herself before Joel is turning heel and storming out of the room with a slam of the door. He runs straight into her in the hall, grabbing her elbows to steady them. She wrenches out of his grip, stumbling back. His face goes slack at her pained expression.

“How much of that did you hear?” She scoffs, muttering “heard enough” before shuffling back down the hall to grab her pack from the bedroom. She’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Joel is hot on her heels, following her into the bedroom, a hand tugging at his hair in seeming frustration. She wordlessly grabs her pack, shoving her things back into it as he watches her.

“Will you talk to me?” She lets out a bitter laugh at his words, finally turning and looking at him.

“What the fuck, Joel? What the fuck was that? You making decisions for us now, huh? Think you know better than me? Well newsflash, that was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard!” She’s gotten up in his space and shoves hard at his chest, making him stumble back.

“Look, you may be mad right now. But eventually you’ll see that I’m right about this. I-I can’t protect her. Can’t protect you, it’s–” “That’s such bullshit. I don’t need protection, Joel. And maybe you can’t protect her, but we can. Did a damn good job of it these past few months. God, but now you’re gonna be a fucking coward?” She thinks briefly that she sees the glimmer of tears in his eyes, but she’s too mad to care. She shoulders her pack, going to step out of the room, but he blocks her path. He swallows hard under her steely glare.

“I’m sorry, but I–” she shoves at his chest again.

“I don’t want your fucking sorrys! Finish the job, you coward, or get the fuck out of my way.” She finally shoulders past him, and he doesn’t follow her this time. He seems to have made his choice, and she’ll have to live with that.

…

She spends the night, restlessly, on the couch downstairs, waiting for Tommy to come pick up her and Ellie. She’ll go with them to the university, it hadn’t even been a question to her. And after that, well she certainly won’t be coming back here, back to Joel.

She manages to sleep a few hours, woken up by the sound of Tommy coming inside. He waits at the front door while she goes up to get Ellie. She’s surprised when she passes the master bedroom to see the door ajar, Joel and his pack nowhere to be seen. That bastard must have skipped town. Good fucking riddance.

They head out to the stables and she’s once again surprised when they find Joel there, saddling up. He’s changed his tune, and when Ellie says she wants to go with him, already foisting her pack into his arms, he tries to catch her gaze over the top of the girl’s head, but she refuses to look at him. She promised Tess she’d finish this job, and she’s going to, regardless of whom it’s finished with. But whatever closeness she had with Joel has withered in the course of the night. She decides that this will be the last time she works with him.

The trio sets out, Joel and Ellie on one horse and her following close behind on another. A week’s journey, and then she’ll never have to think about Joel Miller again.

Days pass in a frozen blur. It’s not lost on her how their roles have been switched. In the past, it was always her job to keep Ellie’s constant conversation entertained while Joel silently scowled. Now, Joel keeps up the talk, occasionally trying to draw her into the chatter, but she remains steeled against his attempts to get her to thaw, only answering the questions Ellie asks her. She knows it’s dangerous, how much she’s come to care for the girl. It was Joel who had told her as much, that the price for caring about someone was one you just couldn’t afford in this world. She figures it’s too late to pull back from her, having already sacrificed so much to get her across the country, because she knows she’d do a whole lot more for her too.

When they reach the university campus, it’s a relief and a shock. The last time she had been somewhere like this was when everything went to shit. Like every other survivor, she remembers the day all too well. She woke up that morning in her boyfriend’s dorm room, and by the end of the day she was getting hauled to a quarantine zone in the back of a military truck.

She’s quiet as they ride through the campus, but can feel Joel’s eyes on her as he answers Ellie’s endless questions about what college was like. His voice is a bit gruff when he next speaks.

“You should be asking these questions to her, kid. She was actually smart enough to be somewhere like this.” She can’t help how her eyes widen at his words and when she glances at him, she thinks she sees the hint of a smirk there. Ellie immediately shifts her attention to her, asking her all sorts of questions about what she did at a place like this. For once, she’s happy to talk about the past. She feels the anger she’s been keeping bubbling start to roll over, finding ease in rejoining the conversation, but she still keeps her attention on Ellie, only barely glancing Joel’s way.

The campus is desolate and when they find what must have been the science building with a golden firefly emblem on above the entrance, disappointment lays thickly over them when they see it’s been deserted. On the third floor, however, they manage to find a map, with all arrows leading to Salt Lake City. They must have moved shop. Joel looks at her, both their faces set in a stern resolve. This trip is going to be a bit longer than they planned. Just then, they hear voices coming from below. She sidles up to the window and sure enough, a group of raiders are traipsing across the campus. Joel looks at her and she just nods, a silent confirmation that they need to move quickly and quietly.

They get outside, and she tries to clear her mind of the way he keeps a hand on the hilt of her spine as she peers behind the wall. It’s clear, and they scurry over to the horses, trying to hastily saddle up. Ellie freezes where she stands, looking behind them. She whips around and sure enough, two of the men they had seen are rushing at them. She doesn’t even have to think, pulling out her knife and running at them. She handily slits the one man’s throat, but the other grabs her shoulder and lands a punch that sends her jaw singing in pain. She doubles over, trying to shake off the ringing in her ears. Joel’s right behind her and grabs hold of the man, struggling a bit before snapping his neck. The sound makes her stomach churn.

When she finally collects herself and gets a look at Joel, she blanches. He’s been stabbed low in the side, the handle of the weapon protruding still. Joel looks down, seeming to realize at the same time that he’s been hurt. She doesn’t think quick enough to stop him from pulling it out, and when he does blood quickly begins to puddle in his cupped hand. Her mind is going a mile a minute, but Ellie shakes her out of it with a low curse. There are two more men coming towards them. She has to get them out of here and fast.

“Ellie, get on that horse, now!” She grabs Joel by the shoulders, shoving him towards the other horse and helping him up. He lets out a broken shout as he swings his leg over the saddle and it sends a streak of panic down her spine. She hauls herself up behind him, taking the reins and kicking off. Ellie follows alongside them, firing warning bullets at the straggling men.

They manage to lose them, following train tracks out of the town and in the general direction of Salt Lake City. She keeps pinching Joel’s thigh, trying to keep him awake, keep him talking. But he’s fading fast, and she doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, his head slumps forward and she curses.

“Joel? Hey, Joel, c’mon, stay with us here– shit!” His body goes slack and he slips right off the horse into the drifting snow. She immediately dismounts, Ellie following suit, and kneels down beside him. His eyes are flickering, rolling back up to the sky. She presses the heel of her hand down into his wound, trying to stop the bleeding that has persisted since they fled. He whimpers under the contact and it makes something in her shatter. Ellie is calling his name, lightly patting his face. But it’s not enough, and he slips unconscious, his face ashen in the gray winter light.

“Fuck!” For a moment, she just panics. No clue what to do. Her hands are shaking as she quickly shucks off her coat, Ellie watching her like she’s crazy. She takes off the flannel she had been wearing and rips it up into strips, tying them together and then wrapping the makeshift tourniquet around Joel’s wound. She doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but right now, it’s the only thing she can think to do. She takes a deep breath, a wisp of a plan slowly coming into mind.

“Alright, Ellie, we gotta get him back on one of the horses. We gotta find shelter.” Ellie looks bewildered by her command.

“He’s not gonna make it if we–”

“Don’t, kid. It’s the only shot we have. Help me move him.” It’s a struggle, getting his slack body back up onto the saddle, but they manage and she slips up behind him again. She wraps her legs around his to keep him in place. The only comfort as they ride is the short puffs of breath she feels him letting out into her collar where his head has slumped down. As long as he’s breathing, I can be ok.

She was never religious, not before, and certainly not now. But, as they continue riding, she starts to pray to someone, anyone. She knows that Joel would’ve told her to leave him. Would’ve wanted her to leave him. But now, it’s become quite clear to her that leaving him is something she’s incapable of doing.

His breathing is getting slower, even more shallow. She counts the space between each exhale and feels panic rising as that space gets longer and longer. They need a fucking miracle.

They get a fucking miracle.

A farmhouse appears in the distance, in a thicket of frozen trees. She can see smoke coming from the chimney. She’s too panicked to make any real plan, telling Ellie to hold back while she rides up. She doesn’t care if the people are hostile, she’ll kill them with her bare hands if it means Joel will have a shot at surviving.

She stops right in front of the house, and it’s a rather awkward maneuver to slide Joel off the saddle and lay him out in the snow while she sidles up to the front door. She cocks her gun and shoulders through the door, and finds herself both relieved and embarrassed when all she meets is a rather shocked looking older woman standing by a wood-burning stove.

A fucking miracle indeed.

…

The woman’s name is Maggie. She tells her to bring Ellie and Joel in. They lay him out on the musty couch in front of the stove and Maggie immediately takes to treating his wound. She moves with an unexpected precision, getting Joel out of his jacket and layers, cleaning the gash with rags that they boiled on the stove and then taking to the wound with bandages she pulled out of a rusted first aid box. Joel remains unconscious, but color starts to come back into his face as he lays in the warmth of the stove. Maggie offers soup to her and Ellie, but her stomach is still rolling as she watches Joel’s unconscious form so she gives her bowl to the girl as well.

She sits on the arm of the couch, keeping a hand around Joel’s ankle as Maggie talks to them. She tells them that her husband’s name is Rod, that he’s out hunting and he’ll be home soon, but that she’ll deal with him. She can’t help but think that they’re much like that couple they had met only a week or so earlier, another pair that lived quietly enough for the end of the world not to notice them. The older woman seems to sense the tension in the air, seeing both her and Ellie still anxiously watching Joel. She asks Ellie if she’d like to help her dress a few rabbits out back and the girl’s eyes dart between the older woman and her. She offers her a small smile and a nod to go ahead, that it’s ok, and Maggie leads her out to show her how it's done.

As the door shuts behind them, she lets out a long sigh, sinking down onto the floor and resting her head back against the couch. She shuts her eyes, a wave of exhaustion finally washing over her now that the adrenaline has worn off. Her brain kicks up a chant of he’s ok, he’ll live that lulls her into a sleepy daze, only being startled out of it when she feels him start to stir behind her. She whips around, kneeling in front of the couch, her fingers itching to reach for him, but instead just watching as he slowly comes to. He looks shocked to still be alive, eyes darting around the room before landing on her. He goes to sit up but immediately winces in pain and she presses her palm into his chest to keep him laying down.

“Joel, just stay down. You’re ok. I’ll get you some water.” She grabs her own water bottle that Maggie had filled for her and brings it to his lips, coaxing a few sips out of him. He’s looking at her like she’s grown a second head, entirely perplexed. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“You should’ve left me.” She scoffs, shaking her head and forcing him to take another swig to shut him up.

“A thank you would be nice.” He only gives her a steely scowl at her words that she just rolls her eyes at.

“Joel, can you try to not be an asshole after we just saved your life?” She gets up to get him a bowl of soup but can still hear his grumbling words.

“Surprised you’d want to save my life. Thought you’d washed your hands of me.” She sighs, choosing not to respond to his murmurs as she kneels back down beside the couch with soup and a spoon. He raises an eyebrow at her. She gives him an unamused look, holding a spoonful of soup out to him that he begrudgingly takes. Surprisingly, he lets her feed him more of the soup, not moving his utterly confused gaze from her face. She thinks to herself that he must still be pretty out of it to be letting her do this.

He finally bats her hands away with a grumble, once again trying to sit up. Though he successfully gets upright, swinging his legs down so his feet are planted on the floor, it’s not without groans of pain with each movement, his bare chest heaving once he finally sits back. She instinctively goes to smooth her hand over the gauze they laid over his wound and he shivers under her touch, her eyes immediately darting up to his.

“Does that hurt?” He huffs, grabbing her hand in his own and giving it a squeeze before resting their entwined fingers on his thigh.

“Sure don’t feel good. Where’s Ellie?” Just then, the back door swings open, Ellie walking in ahead of Maggie, brandishing two dressed rabbit carcasses in her hands. When she sees Joel upright and lucid, first relief washes over her face, and then a very smug grin. She holds up the rabbits like shining trophies.

“Welcome back, old man. Told ya I could do it.”

…

Rod comes home soon afterwards, and while it’s tense at first, it’s clear quickly that he answers to Maggie, and what she says goes. They sit in the main room of the cabin, the three of them pressed together on the couch while the couple sit in two thread-bare armchairs, asking them all kinds of questions. Rod keeps looking between her and Joel and then glancing at Ellie, seeming to try to figure something out. He finally clears his throat.

“You don’t often see families out on the road, where are y’all heading?” Her and Joel practically trip over each other to correct him, speaking on top of each other.

“We’re not–”

“That’s not what this is–”

Ellie just laughs, telling the old man that they’re not her parents, just two people getting paid to transport her to her real family. She’ll have to thank the kid later for the smooth save. The couple seem to accept her explanation, but Rod continues to look between her and Joel over the top of Ellie’s head. It’s only just starting to make her uneasy when Maggie invites her and Ellie to help get dinner going. They leave Joel and Rod lowly murmuring about directions to Salt Lake City.

As she chops potatoes, listening to Maggie explain to Ellie how to carve up the rabbits, she gets that same sickening feeling she got in Jackson. For a moment, there’s a sliver of normalcy that makes her shudder. They roast the vegetables and meat over a fire that Maggie sets on a small stovetop. She leans back against the doorframe, watching the older woman show Ellie how to cook the food. Her ears prick into the conversation in the other room, Rod saying something in a rather severe tone.

“Son, you do realize that young woman saved your life, right?” There’s a long hiccup of silence before Joel speaks.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Believe me, I know. Saved me in more ways than one.” She’s not given too much time to ponder his words before Maggie and Ellie are whipping by with a huge skillet of food. They all eat in the living room, serving themselves straight out of the pan. She’s surprised by how hungry she is, though she figures it’s been nearly a whole day since she last ate.

Finished with dinner, she asks Maggie for the first aid kit, taking Joel out to catch the last light of day in order to redress his wound. The old couple had offered to teach Ellie how to play gin while she takes care of him. He sits down on the bench out on the porch, already moving much better with some more food in his system.

Relief floods through her when she removes the gauze and sees that the gash is already starting to clot, hardly any more blood coming through and the angry redness calming under the salve Maggie had rubbed in. She kneels down in between his thighs, trying to as gently as possible clean the wound as he stifles whimpers under her touch. She lays another square of gauze over the wound, letting her palm wander up his side before squeezing his shoulder and sitting back on her haunches. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Thank you, alright? Thank you.” She just nods, but Joel isn’t done talking.

“I figure we sleep here tonight. Rod showed me how to keep following those tracks to get to Salt Lake, we’re looking at three, maybe four days of travel.” Her head is spinning, not really believing his words.

“Are you serious right now? Joel, I don’t know if you noticed, but you almost fucking died. You’re not gonna be ready to travel tomorrow, and hell, probably not the next day either. Maggie told me they’d let us stay on a bit longer, if Ellie and I help her out with stuff around here. But you’re not fucking traveling anytime soon, not on my watch.” His fists are clenched in his lap as he listens to her speak, finally shaking his head in frustration.

“Look, I just need some sleep. I’ll be good to travel in the morning, you don’t know–” She’s on him in a flash, standing up to tower over him, right in his face.

“Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m sick of you trying to call all the shots, Joel. This time? You’re gonna listen to me.” He tilts his chin up at her defiantly.

“And why should I?” She practically seethes with anger.

“Because I saved your life, that’s why. Don’t make me fucking regret it.” She whisks away from him, storming back inside and slamming the door behind her. She finds Ellie and the couple playing cards and mutters at the girl to go help Joel inside. She’s done playing nurse for the night.

Unfortunately, Maggie and Rod had different plans. When it came time to turn in, they offered the couch to Ellie, while giving her and Joel the loft upstairs. The loft with only one bed. She did her best not to balk at it, not wanting to seem ungrateful to the couple as they closed their own bedroom door after saying good night.

She mutely helped Joel up the stairs, guiding him to sit down on the edge of the bed while she got to work unrolling her sleeping bag onto the floor. She heard him scoff behind her as he watched her movements.

“What the hell are you doing?” She glances at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll take the floor and you’ll take the bed. You need it more than I do.” He lets out a breathy laugh at that.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” She finally turns to fix him with an icy stare. He just crosses his arms over his chest.

“Joel, don’t. I can’t argue with you anymore.” She sighs, fully sitting down on the ground, staring at her hands in her lap. She’s got no fight left.

“I don’t want to argue, but I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. Please.” Her head whips up at that, a word that doesn’t usually come out of Joel’s mouth. There’s something in his eyes that she can’t quite place. Something that makes her give in to him. She stands with another sigh, starting to toe off her boots.

“Alright, fine. We’ll both sleep in the bed.” She’d like to smack the smug look that slides across his face, but it’s quickly replaced by winces of pain as he moves to take off his shoes and pants. She helps him shuck off his jeans all the way, ignoring his grumbles that he can do it himself, and helps him under the covers. She quickly peels off her own jeans before getting into bed, hugging the edge of the mattress and turning her back to him. He huffs behind her.

“Not how we normally sleep, is it?” She scoffs at his words.

“You’re injured. And I’m still pissed at you.”

“Look, I-I’m sorry.” “What for?”

“Jesus christ, can’t you take a damn apology?” She chooses not to respond to that and Joel sighs.

“I’m sorry for what I did in Jackson. For not talking to you. Trying to cut ties. I just, I really thought it’d be better for everyone.” She swallows thickly.

“Well, I don’t get that. I thought we had a good thing going, thought we were a team.”

“We did have a good thing. It’s why I was trying to set you two loose from me. I’m getting older, weaker. A-and the price was getting too high.” She finally turns over, looking at him with her brow furrowed. He glances at her before letting out another sigh.

“I care about you, more than I should. I care about the kid too, but you– if I ever failed you? Out there? That’d be the end for me. I know I couldn’t go on then. So I figured it’d be better to let you go, without me, no chance of letting you down then.” They fall into a heavy silence as she studies his profile. Those were not words she was expecting to hear out of him.

“Joel, I– the price is high for me too. Think I realized it when you collapsed off that fucking horse. But sometimes I feel like you don’t take me seriously, and it drives me insane. I may be younger than you, but I’ve been out here just as long as you.” He draws one of his hands down to tangle with hers.

“I know you have, darlin. And I’m sorry. I’m an ass, but I’ll listen to you, I’ll really try.” She squeezes his hand.

“We’re a fucking team, Joel. I need you on my side.” His eyes soften in the dimming light.

“Fuck, need you too.” For now, it’s enough for them both. They manage to sleep that night, neither one letting go of the other’s hand.

…

They’ve spent three nights at the farmhouse, and Joel continues to heal. Ellie and Maggie are sitting on the porch, playing gin. Ellie has gotten wickedly good at the game, even giving Rod a run for his money. She’s out front, helping the old man and Joel chop firewood. She’s just glad that Joel feels well enough to be swinging an ax, but would be hard pressed to admit that her gaze lingers on the sliver of skin above his waistband that slips into sight each time he throws his arms back in a swing.

It’s been decided that they’ll leave tomorrow and start the journey towards Salt Lake City and whatever it may entail. As such, Maggie had declared that they’d need to have a proper meal tonight, like she hadn’t been feeding them like kings all week. Rod had brought a deer back from his hunting yesterday, and Ellie had, very proudly, helped him dress the carcass. They’d certainly eat well tonight.

She and Joel had settled into a sort of closeness again, something more tentative, something heavier with meaning. They hadn’t really discussed what had been said that first night any further, but each night since they’d fallen asleep pressed close to one another. She had however noticed the way his breath would hitch as she checked his bandages, and had maybe started to trail her fingers a bit aimlessly just to see how worked up she could get him before cruelly stepping away. He was due for some payback anyways.

Dinner, as expected, is rich and near coma-inducing, and Ellie promptly flops onto the couch face first. She and Joel help the old couple clean up before saying their goodnights. Joel no longer needs help up the stairs when they head up for bed, he hasn’t for two days now.

They dress down in silence before slipping under the covers, settling into the middle of the bed. She rests a leg over his hip, turning into his chest as he wraps her into his non-injured side. He looks down at her.

“You ready to head out tomorrow?” She snorts, burrowing her cheek closer into his chest.

“Pretty sure I should be asking you that.” His arm draws her in a little tighter.

“I am. Almost back to a hundred percent, thanks to you.” They settle into a simple silence. She breaks it with a hoarse whisper.

“Joel? You gotta know how glad I am that you’re not dead.” He just hums at that, but she tilts her head to rest her chin on his sternum, looking up at him.

“I mean it. Christ– when you were splayed out in the snow– I panicked– didn’t know what to do– just knew that you couldn’t die or I’d lose whatever is left of my mind.” He brings his fingertips to skate across the arc of her cheek, carding his fingers through her hair before pressing his thumb under the hilt of her jaw to draw her face up to his. It’s a shivering little thing of a kiss, their lips just ghosting together before breaking away. It’s a low thrumming whisper that breezes across her lips when he speaks.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere, darlin, not without you.” She presses forward this time into an entirely different kind of kiss. It’s a kiss that takes and demands that something be given. He brings both his broad palms to cup her face and she huffs as she tries to press closer to him without hurting him. He seems to notice her frustration, pressing her to lay down as he shifts to lean on his good side and dip back into a kiss. She pulls away with a sigh.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, not when you’re healing so well.” He huffs, tracing her lips with his thumb.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. Just let me have you.” She can’t even protest, not when he’s already licking into her mouth and fumbling with the buttons of the flannel she still has on. She swats his hand away to get the shirt off herself and he moves his now idle hand down to her hip, giving the plush swell harsh squeezes and drawing her closer to him. Her shirt draws open and he nudges away the fabric with his nose, lips smearing across her chest and laving over her peaked nipples in a way that makes her keen up into his touch. She runs her hands easily through the buttons of his own shirt, laying open-mouthed kisses in the middle of his chest. They’re a mess of mouths and hands and sighing breaths, finding whatever bare skin they can to mark as their own. She lets out a whine that he quickly shushes as he bites harshly at the soft skin at the juncture of her jaw.

“Joel, please, I want you now.” They press their foreheads together for a moment, swallowing each other’s ragged breaths before Joel nods. He shifts until he’s hovering over her, kneeling between her spread legs and caging her in between his arms.

She presses the sleeves of his open shirt down his arms and he breaks away just enough to shrug it off entirely. She takes him in, fingers grazing down his chest and skating over the bandage across his side before he grabs her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips and laying a kiss in the middle of her palm. He brings his own palm down between her breasts, rough fingers splayed out below her sternum before dragging his hand down her torso in a way that makes her shudder. His fingers deftly slip under the band of her underwear and he doesn’t even have to ask her to lift her hips for him to slide them down her legs, tossing them off to the side before dipping back down to meet in another kiss.

Still in his boxers, he presses his hips forward into hers and they both groan at the contact as his hardness ruts against her center. She tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t fucking tease me right now, Joel. Need you.” He shushes her with a smacking kiss.

“I know what you need, I’ve got you. I’m yours, I’m all yours.” She draws her hands down to the waist of his boxers, shrugging them down his thighs just enough for his cock to come free and rest against her hip, smearing pre-cum across her skin. They move fluidly. She draws her knee up to his waist, opening herself up for him as he fists himself and draws the head of his cock through her folds before pressing into her. They both let out broken sighs when his hips press against hers. The roll of his hips is slow but harsh as he finds a pace in his thrusts. He dips his head into her collarbone, muffling his groans into her damp skin as she rakes her nails down his back. She’s entirely wrapped up in him, whispering little gasps of his name each time he presses impossibly deeper into her. Suddenly, he takes in a sharp inhale that sounds less like pleasure and more like pain, she draws his face out of her neck and can see the wince in his eyes. Panic seeps into her spine.

“Hey, hey. Is it hurting?” He sighs, trying to ignore her searching gaze but she presses a palm into his chest to stop him.

“Baby. Lay back, ok? Wanna make it feel good for you.” He sighs, but does what she says, untangling from her and laying down. She carefully straddles him, the wet heat of her cunt dripping over the throbbing underside of his cock. She leans in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“S’ok, Joel. I’m gonna make you feel good.” He brings his hands to the swell of her hips, fingers flexing into her dimpled skin as she lines his cock up with her entrance, stifling a moan as she takes him all to the hilt. Joel’s eyes are darting everywhere as she sets a gentle rhythm, the crease of pleasure between her brows, the golden dampness in the hollow of her collarbone, the obscene bounce of her breasts with each swivel of her hips. All he can do is sigh.

“You’re perfect, darlin. So perfect for me. You’re mine, right? Fuck– tell me you’re mine.” He presses his palm between her shoulder blades to press her forward and she hovers over him, brushing her lips over his in something far too messy to be called a kiss.

“I’m yours, Joel. All yours.” He bends his knees and plants his feet into the mattress, starting to meet her weakening thrusts with his own. She can feel herself at the edge of pleasure, ready to tip over into oblivion. She buries her face into his neck as he fucks up into her, letting out broken whimpers with each thrust.

“Need you to come for me, darlin. Know you can do it. Let go for me.” His words send her hurtling right over the edge, pulsing around his cock as she comes with a silent cry. He fucks her through it, his thrusts starting to falter as he feels his release creeping up on him. She reluctantly pulls off of him, nuzzling into his side and bringing her hand to wrap around his throbbing length. She brings her lips to his ear.

“Come for me, Joel. Show me you’re mine.” With one more pass of her fist he’s painting his stomach with his spend, letting out ragged whispers of her name as he comes. They lay entangled for a moment, but she’s quick to check his bandage.

“Was that too much? Are you ok?” He lets out a whisper of a laugh, brushing her hair out of her face and looking at her in a way she hasn’t seen before. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“I’m fucking perfect, darlin.” It makes her laugh, and she dips her head to press a kiss into his collarbone before getting up to find something to clean them up with.

They settle back into bed after getting cleaned up. He falls asleep before her, with her temple pressed right over his heart. She knows that it’s all hers, and that she’s all his, no matter the price.

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction

605 notes · View notes