#rob i have missed u... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelettersfromluna · 6 months

Text

Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

1K notes · View notes

05velvet · 2 years

Text

miss doing makeup </3

#went out the other day and my friend dressed up #and i was like oh u look so cute #and she went oh yeah I dressed up bc I knew I was going out with u and ur always dressed up u know #and my outfit while cute was actually quite basic #and it made me think wearing a mask and having a dress code at work has robbed me of like… myself #where is the bitch in impractical for the weather but oh so cute outfits #where is the bitch in a full beat but for the grocery story #store*#where is the bitch who stays up all night to do her hair and be cute for cute sake #I MISS HER #i think part of it is that I don’t shop anymore so I have no inspo but ughhh #miss her

0 notes

shortcakesturns · 2 months

Note

omg hi ur like the only person writing for Rob from Love Island so slay of u! I was wondering if u could do like an enemies to lovers rob x reader🥹

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 - 𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

a/n: not proofread cause i’m lazy! thank you for all the support on rob!! send in requests for anybody and i’ll write for them ❤️ (I don’t just write love island!! I write much more just ask!) combined request, I can write a non smut if u want

summary: you would do anything to prove to everyone rob didn’t actually hate you, that’s when the heart rate challenge came in clutch..but it backfires.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (not safe!!), semi public sex? cream pie, rough sex. p n v, oral f receiving

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓. 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐆𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍.

rob glares at you, his eyes piercing through your skull in attempt to intimidate you. his attempts fail so he barrels towards you and bumps his shoulder with yours harshly. your hand flies up to your shoulder and eyes dart to robs, he shrugs and looks you up and down.

“go get your sluttiest outfit on y/n, i’m sure you have plenty.” he laughs and turns around. the devil really wears overalls.

an hour later after getting ready you stand in front of the mirror alone looking at your dorthy costume from the wizard of oz. a button up part at the top to reveal the white lingerie bra. a short dress that barely covers your ass with a matching lingerie thong and clear thigh high socks. little bows on your thighs, hair in bowed pigtails.

you give one last glance at yourself, this was the first time you could really make rob look stupid. get his heart rate way up, have it revealed in front of the whole group. everybody knows rob can’t stand you, and you can’t bare to be in the same room with him.

everybody goes before you, giving you enough time to think about what to do.

before you can think it’s your time, you strut down the villa floor. you hear screams from the girls and boys but rob sits there with crossed arms and a sour face.

first… it’s kenny, you get on kenny’s lap grinding a bit and making sure to withhold eye contact with rob. you lick kenny’s neck before crawling over to kordell to give kenny a good view of your thong.

(WE RESPECT THE GIRLS HERE SO THIS IS JUST TO MAKE ROB JELLY)

you go over to kordell and squat over him and grind down on him. screams are still echoing but the adrenaline is getting to you. blood rushes to your head while blood rushes to robs dick. he keeps a straight face so you needed to up your game.

then came kendall…you get up on kendall’s lap and do a couple of tricks and shaking your ass a bit. maintaining eye contact with rob.

miguel was next, you got down on your knees in front of him. “you think you can save me miguel?” you look up at him innocently.

then Aaron, you get on his lap and grind a bit.. but then robs turn it was. you grab him by the collar bringing him to the front and kicking him down.

a tent was very much in his pants, his jaw was clenched and body was tense. this was monumental for the other islanders. despite being in a couple the only reason you guys were together was so you weren’t voted off. everyone got louder as you kicked his chest and then his neck and then grinding down on his rock hard cock.

whining touching your breasts, “there’s no place like home…right rob?.” you kiss his mouth and grab his collar again and slam him down. standing up above him your heel barely missing his ear. you walk away and join the rest of the girls and then the boys leave screaming in excitement.

the girls surround the fire pit in anticipation, you can’t help but think you might’ve messed up with rob. every-time you grinded on a guy. you could see the rage that was building up inside of him.

every guy goes and does their tricks. but when rob comes out. you see revenge in his eyes. he couldn’t let you outdo him and you couldn’t let him raise your heart and face the humiliation.

after a bit of eye contact, it was finally your turn. rob threw out over his shoulder and laid you down face down, ass up. wrapping his lasso around your waist and grinding down while holding your hips up. nipping and kissing at your neck. he grabs your hair slightly to make you look at him “is that the best you can do baby?” then lets your hair go and joins the fire pit and so do the guys.

it was now time to see who raised your heart the most.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐒..𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀

𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑.

𝐑𝐎𝐁...𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘/𝐍

holy shit, your plan had worked. a stupid smirk plastered across your face as everyone mouth drops.

“I’ll take that smirk right off your face y/n.” rob whispered in your ear lowly.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒..

𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑: 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋.

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐀: 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘

𝐘/𝐧...𝐑𝐎𝐁.

this can’t be right, this can’t be right at all. your face is bright red and your face is burning up. “is that so princess? and you laughed at me getting turned on by you..not my fault you looked so damn slutty in this cute little outfit.”

he tugs on your dress a bit and everybody gets hype but soon after ariana leaves and your all left to yourself, another text comes through.

𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒..𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍. 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄.

with no hesitation the islanders all pick you and rob. claiming it’s a fuck it out scenario. but you couldn’t stand robs ego. rob had the biggest ego. this was not a fuck it out thing..sure rob has a great body, but personality was unbearable to you.

“nothings happening tonight y/n.” he says to you coldly. the girls grabbing you before you could talk back.

the boys surround rob and then suddenly your picking out a cute lacy piece of lingerie.

“are you guys gonna fuck tonight?” leah blurts out moving her brows up and down.

“hell no, this is just to show him what he could have if he wasn’t such a big dick to me.” the girls brows raise and burst out into laughter.

the girls run down the stairs, you follow them very far behind so rob can get a good look at your body. rob stands there with no emotion but hand over his dick to hide the boner that’s forming.

he eye fucks you and says the goodbyes to the other islanders as you enter the hideaway.

you look around and it’s beautiful, but rob quickly drags your hands to the bedroom and bends you over the bed.

“act like a slut huh?” SMACK “getting my heart rate up?” SMACK “embarrassing me?” SMACK

“r-rob i’m sorry.” you let out, parting your legs farther. you couldn’t deny anymore.

you needed rob to fuck the ever loving shit out of you.

“you want this?” he asks.

you nod and blurt out yes.

“good girl.” he kneels down and takes your thong off swiftly shoving those pretty panties into his pocket.

you still couldn’t see him so the uncertainty of not knowing what was coming next was turning you on, you were practically dripping and a mess.

rob swipes his finger up and down your slit before pushing two fingers into your wet hole and licking and sucking your clit aggressively.

moans are heard against your cunt, making the pleasure more intense. you tighten around his fingers. “your not cumming on my fingers.”

he quickly pulls away fumbling with his belt and hearing his pants drop. a harsh slap is landed on your ass again. you were sure your ass was red.

he uses his foot to part your legs more and lines himself up with your cunt and pushing in slowly. he throws his pretty head back and begins to thrust into you deep and slow.

“you like torturing me pretty baby?” he whines.

“fuck this pussy is amazing, gonna fuck you everywhere.” he whines and whines.

you couldn’t get a word in since his thrusts speed up. he was pretty big. very big. you were full.

he pulls out and flips you to your back. “wanna see that cute face of yours when I fill you up with my cum.”

he pushes back in speeding up and letting the white ring form around his dick, suddenly you tighten against him and rob lets out a strained groan and everything goes black when your eyes glue themselves together. water gushes from your cunt onto the sheets, floor, and rob.

“oh holy shit your doing that again y/n.” his thrusts get harder and faster and he makes you squirt again and again till he’s satisfied.

“i’m gonna cum pretty girl.” his thrusts get sloppy and then strings of cum fill your cunt up.

he topples over onto the bed pulling you with him.

“maybe it was a fuck it out thing, your pretty y/n.”

he kisses your forehead.

“also, kaylor told me I was a big dick to you..so question is my attitude matching my dick size or whatever.”

you slap him.

“shut up.” you smirk.

#robb rausch smut #rob love island #love island 2024 #love island the game #love island usa #love island smut

573 notes · View notes

san8ny · 5 months

Text

Intermission

Ellie Williams <3

Synopsis: Ellie and you haven’t spoken since highschool, you two never really that close. One day, the all-star hits you up upon getting kicked out. You down to help her steal from her own childhood home or nah?

w.c: 4.1k / warnings include: Ellie is a bit rude in the beginning, some Joel slander, she’s just hella uptight, mutual pining, kissing, she makes out with your hooha, but it’s hot. ;-;

“Am I even doing this right?” you mutter down at the pocket knife you had angled, poorly sharpening it’s blade with the edge of the worn-down whetstone you and Ellie happened to find upon arrival to Joel’s cabins.

She gives you, and both the board, a once-over before turning back to the picture frames lined up on the wall, “Sure.” Rolling your eyes, you throw the knife onto the counter, “You know, I didn’t know he had such a swanky place.”

“Yeah. Reeaal swanky.” She huffs, scrunching her brows in annoyance when the clatter of the knife you’d just thrown doesn’t quiet down immediately, “You find the checkbook yet?”

Ah, the checkbook. You almost forgot she recruited you out here to practically rob her adoptive dad blind.

I mean, fuck, had you had the luck of being in her place— living so lavishly, you’d let the bastard yell at you all he wanted.

Dragging your finger tips across the wooden counter, careful to not splinter them, you push yourself off where you were leaning, and walk towards the stairs, “Doesn’t it make sense for him to like, I don’t know, have it upstairs?”

Ellie runs a hand down her tired face, letting out a huge sigh before turning towards when you stand near the railing, your foot already placed on the first step. Why didn’t she think of that before? She gives you the green light, following behind as you ascend up the stairs. She finds her breath hitched and her eyes closing in further irritation when you suddenly stop, her face parallel with your lower back due to the step-to-height difference.

“Is that you?” You say, a smile stretching on your face as you point towards the meek framed photo that hung above the handrail, depicting a pre-teen Ellie in a science museum tee, Joel slightly crouched behind her with two thumbs up. You almost would have missed the small smile she has in the snapshot had you had nor squinted, “Didn’t know you had a dimple. Do still have it?” You ask, turning down towards where she stood.

“No. Now move.” She huffs, bumping your shoulder as she takes lead, climbing up the rest of the stairs. Rude. Nonetheless, you follow her as you enter into the main hallway. How the hell was a cabin this big? you’re only in it for, like, less than a season— Right? Not like you would know, the fanciest thing you’d ever seen was the time you went to Dina’s Bat Mizvah down at the community center and got to see a chocolate fountain, granted it was years ago, it’s the closest thing you’d ever experienced comparisable to ‘upper echelon.’

She seemingly notices your distant stare, harshly bringing her palms together in a large clap thus pulling you out of your thoughts. Clearly taken aback, you meet her blank gaze, “You take the attic, i’ll take the main bedroom”

“Where—

“Down the hall, to your left. You’ll see the ladder cord hanging.” She cuts you off, already walking away and into one of the many doors you could only assume led to Joel’s bedroom. Okay! This should be easy!

It was not easy.

On your hands and knees, you cough uncontrollably from the dust that blocks insulation. It errupted when you pulled the damn ceiling ladder cord down. All this money and they couldn’t fucking dust it once in a while? Wait, when was the last time this place was even entered? That was the question you asked as you slowly tip-toed up with wide eyes. immediate, you’re met with U-haul boxes, plastic dinosaur figurines and some comics.

In that moment, you smile a bit as you kneel on the floor, grabbing the Stegosaurus and T-rex as you gently knock them against eachother, playing with them.

Though you swear you were being satirical when you began toying with them, you couldn’t help thoughts drift to a younger Ellie playing with these like you were. She’d probably always call dibs on the Carnivore, giving the other person an eyeroll when they cry at how unfair she was being for never giving them a turn at being the razor-bearing predator. ‘Skill issue’ she’s also snicker when the kids run back to their parents.

When you finally put them down after some time, you walk over to one of the several moving boxes. Some tattered, some dirty and some even still closed up. It was wrong for you to have been snooping around her childhood home, sure, but she’s also stealing from her own said home— so you can’t be that bad. Reaching into the closest one near you, you pull out a small velvet belt. One that stroke resemblance to the ones you’d see in the cheesy karate-cop movies your dad had been a fan of. Another, and another and shortly, you have a large array of belts, with at the very bottom of the box containing a small plaque of achievements, ‘Ellie Williams’ printed in fine, gold lettering, ‘Graduate from the Jackson institute of Martial Arts.’

Of course, she was a prodigy at everything. What wasn’t Ellie good at? She’d been your highschool’s valedictorian a couple years back when you both were about to graduate, given the golden chance to speak at the commencing, well, was. That was before passing the chance onto the second runner without a second thought; she claimed she wasn’t the talking type and just casually went about her day, like it wasnt the opportunity most students would have killed for. Students like you, who spent all night and day to even make a dent in the social stratosphere that was highschool.

Given now you both were in your early 20’s, you still hold admiration for Ellie. Maybe that’s why when she randomly called you to hangout after years, you didn’t question it, or even second guess yourself.

How long Ellie had been standing there watching you coo over her baby pictures was something you, and both she couldn’t answer. Originally wanting to smack you on the head or scare you, she couldn’t help but lean against the attic wall, eyeing the way you carefully place her achievements down like they were the most important thing to you.

You’d always been like that since Ellie can recall meeting you. Always so nice, so sensible, always the first one in the room to make light out of nothing. You definitely would have been burnt on the cross or something for just how smiley you were if you were alive back in that day. Ellie found you interesting in ways she couldn’t configure why.

She and Joel had a falling out a couple of weeks ago. He cut her off of all financial support, insisting she get a job or a higher education like her peers were. A few profanities and insults were thrown around, leading eventually to her getting kicked out. Funny. Though she never cared about being embarrassed or the opinions of others, she did feel some sort of seeping humiliation. So, with the money she had, she booked a hotel and called you up. She chuckles when she remembers the first time she sent the address, your hesitancy to type back as you get the wrong, but expected idea,

‘ .’.im not fucking u lol’

‘wth no I got kicked out’

‘OHHH srry!!! D: ‘

The chuckle that hears behind startles, your grip seemingly loosening on the picture frame you had in-hand meeting the floor in cruel shatters. Quiet consumes you both with your hands shaking erratically, “O-oh my god? i’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I did that. fuckfuckfuck!! It was an accident. I can pay for that! Like, i’m so so sorry—l” you frantically plead with her, your eyes alternating from her and the bloody gla—bloody?

“You’re bleeding.” Ellie sighs, softly reaching forward to grab your wrist, pulling you around the mess you caused. You didn’t even realize you were until you felt the blood drip from your ankles down to your shins, staining your bleach-white socks in scarlet droplets.

“I messed up, Ellie, i’m really sorry.”

“Can you like, stop apologizing? It’s fine. Didn’t even know when that picture was taken anyways.”

Somehow, her words worsen your hysteric state, you sinking down back onto your knees as you sob. Oh god, she didn’t even know when that picture was taken meaning it’s that long ago. Ellie stares at you clearly with a panicked look, not really knowing how to comfort you— or anyone for that matter. Again, you were more of the sensible one between them, even if you two hadn’t exactly been all that close growing up in the same town, school and similarly interconnected friend groups. ‘What would you do?’ So, Ellie slightly crouches down, her squeaky sneakers noising as she awkwardly encircles her arms around you. Clearly taken aback by this gesture, you peer up from where your head was buried inbetween your knees and instead, at Ellie, who’s usual laid-back expression is replaced with furrowed brows, her eyes not meeting yours and some reddening on her cheeks. “Y-you’ve seen the picture frames around, man, I see myself all the time. It’s fine.”

You sniffle abit before giving her a coherent answer that isn’t just hiccups, “Im sorry.” She sighs before slightly reaching up to pat your head, “Please stop crying, I think i’m more off-put by your ugly cries than you breaking shit.” That tugs a laugh out of you, pushing Ellie away as she matches your grin. “I mean look, you ruined my tee.” She wasn’t lying, you look down to her white tee and it was absolutely soaked with shed tears belonging to you. You gently run your thumbs over her chest in a bad attempt to wipe your embarassingly smeared mascara off, but it only recieves a small whine from Ellie, who backs away immediately. You’re left confused when she gets up, clearing her voice. “We should continue searching.” With that, she leaves the attic, leaving you up there and with multiple. How could ones demeanor change that often? You almost noticed the sensitivity in her chest.

“Pfft, softie.” You mutter, a smile on your lips as you follow her down. Eventually, Ellie is the one to find the book, it’s placed inbetween some folded jeans. ‘Fuck yeah..’ She bites her chapped lip as she flips through it. Enough pages for her, and a good forged signature she’d mastered when he’d be too lazy to sign her field trip permission slips— guess something did pay off. You stand there with crossed arms, feeling a bit squeamish all of a sudden, like the thought had hit you finally, Ellie is moving away. She notices you when she lifts her gaze up, puzzled with your stance, “I told you it’s okay, the picture frame can be replaced.”

“I don’t want you to move away.”

“What.”

“I won’t repeat myself.” You shake your head defiantly, standing your ground when she towers over you, all these years and when you two have somewhat of a bond, she wants to move away? And maybe yeah, you had it coming, being easily-attached to somehow who’d you’d only started recently hanging out with. “What makes you think I care?” She mocks, looking at you like you’d grown an extra head, she’s almost astonished with your stupidity, why would she have dragged you all the way here to just, stay? Something with the way she says those words churns humility deep in your gut, who were you to even admit that to her? You flail around your arms passively as you back away, a croak in your throat, “Just something I said. You’re a cool person.”

“Right, well, I got the checkbook meaning we can get the hell out. Seeing this place almost makes me want to not drain Joel’s pockets.” She yawns, throwing you the book before retreating into one of the previous rooms, though before, she asks, “Say, where’d we put the keys?”

Who had the keys?

Comically enough, sirens began to faintly hear in the back, and your gaze locks onto Ellie’s, “Fuck— find the keys.” She says, running back into the room. How petty was her dad to call the police on them? Well, petty enough to have alarms laying around incase his thieving daughter comes around. You, instantly begin to eye around for them, palms growing clammy at the aspect of being arrested now comes into plan as the sirens grow closer. Finding them, you call out to Ellie who seemingly was already on her way once she heard the jingles of them, “Out the back. You’re gonna run, and not turn back, ‘alright?” She whispers, grabbing you and running towards the kitchen door once the front door is knocked.

Once it’s kicked in, Ellie manages to get out with a groan, definitely a bruiser, but nonetheless, they make it out of the area without getting caught. While she hasn’t broken a sweat yet, you were coughing up a storm like you were earlier, eyes tearing up as you let them out in fits. She gently rubs your back, looking around for where their parked car was, it was a good idea they’d parked so far away- granted it was flawed in multiple ways, it came out in their good favor. Once you’d caught your breath, Ellie hums, “You know where we parked?” You nod, looking around, “Yeah. near the marked tree, you smeared my lipstick over it..” She scrunches her nose to prevent a loud laugh from coming out, your sadness over lipstick being funny to her, “Right. That way.”

You both find the car and enter, ellie starting the car as she backs up and maneuvers around the various tall trees it was parked around before getting onto the main road. You don’t say anything for the majority of the one hour ride, those 60 minutes feeling like the longest ones to Ellie who’s gotten use to your talkitive habits. So when she asks you if you want aux, you shake your head— deflating her mood. She sighs, lighting up a cigarette at the light and rolling down the window. You just lean your head back and rest your eyes, emotions running through that you couldn’t even seem to process. Tiredness, embarrassment of her flat out saying she’d never stay for you, getting almost booked by the police, and just ones you didn’t want to acknowledge at all. You wanted to just, go to sleep.

Ellie, on the otherhand, feels nothing but anxiety gnawing at her. Why does she care so much whether you talk to her or not? She’s never even liked talking, and somehow, the thought of never speaking to you again after this makes her feel nauseous. Would you text her? Call her? Visit her if she left? Would you buy the nearest train ticket if she told you one day to come when she settles into her new place? Or would you just move on? Would you move onto some cooler girl in town to befriend? Some other girl you’d look up to, some other girl who would show you the hidden gems around town you’d been asking her to, Fuck— some other girl you’d give all your affection to. Ellie swerves the car, and had it not been your quick-wit to pull the steering back, she might have crashed the vehicle.

Pulling over, she places her head lightly on the leather wheel while you stare at her in bewilderment, “Are you crazy?! What was that?!” You say with a slight twitch in your eye at her loss of control.

“I don’t want to move away.”

“You literally have to, we’re on the side of the road and your emergency lights aren’t on so.”

“I’ll stay.”

“You can’t, that’s like, against the rules. I don’t know, my permit is expired.” First order of business, obtain a license.

“In Jackson. I’ll stay in Jackson.” She mumbles, lifting her head up to stare at you. This feels like a joke to you, like Ellie might just begin laughing at you when you show the tiniest bit of you of relief. So, you just match her stare, tiling your head. “Why?” Why? What do you mean why? Ellie wants to scream, why don’t you look happy? She’s staying for you.

“Just..wanted to.” She says after a beat or two, pulling the car back onto the road as she nears your house. Giving a curt nod, you look out the window, your knees feeling wobbly like a teenage girl all over again as you suppress asking questions to the clearly disoriented freckled girl. Once on arrival, Ellie expects you to leave and slam that door but instead, you sit there for a bit.

“My mom isn’t here.” You say, chewing your inner-cheek.

“You don’t have a spare key or ‘sum?”

“No no I do, it’s just— want to come in?” You ask her with big eyes, your hands folded on your lap like a child on their best behavior to get something.

“Did your mom bake that pie you got me last time?” She’s referring to the Cherry Pie your mom made last time you two hung out.

“Is the sky blue?” You say, with a smile, trying to lighten the mood that’ll need more than just that to recover.

“It’s grey but I see your point. I’ll go park, leave the front door open.” She smiles when you nod, skipping out of the car and into your home.

When she does so, and enters your door, she’s met with a warm wafting smell of baked goods. Ellie might gave been fairly thin, but she had a nose on her, leading her to the kitchen. You’ve changed out of your dirty clothes, she notices, you now wearing some small pajama shorts and a tanktop. You’re bent over the oven, grabbing the treats out of the pre-heated oven your mother had likely left them in to retain warmth.

“You’ve got to stop doing that.” You mutter, almost dropping the tray of food while Ellie smirks

“Can’t really promise accepting an apology if you dropped those.” She says, walking on over to where you stood by the kitchen island. Something in the way she says that so..flirtatiously, makes you look back at her twice. “Whatever. Do me a favor, take the plates out while I cut the pieces.” Ellie nods, walking over to the several arrays of cabinets. Though, upon doing so, she notices your refrigerator, decorated in colorful magnets, children’s literature and most of all, a picture of you, and an older woman. You were younger, hair a bit longer than you had it now, and a wide grin with your front tooth missing. You couldn’t of been older than 6, Ellie thinks. Smiley.

“This your mom?” she asks, running her fingerpads alongst the smooth film while you hum, nodding. “Yeah, it’s my mom” You say, handing her a slice of piece when she gives you the plate, “You look alike.” Ellie concludes when you two begin walking upstairs to your room.

It was certainly your room, is what the auburnette thinks as she sits on your bed. Messy bedsheets you never got to make, clothes scattered near your closet and other things you never got to clean up when she’d called you up this morning at such an ungodly time to divulge you in on her scheme,

though now, upon her decision to stay in the town, it seemed a bit for nothing. It’d be a funny story to tell with you. With you, she thinks, watching as you chew the treat and sit on the rugged floor as you flip through TV channels. Eventually settling on some show Ellie never knew was still even airing. She quietly sinks from the bed, onto the floor herself, sitting close to you as your gaze stays glued to the blaring screen, flashes of color reflecting onto your face as each scene passes. Ellie finds herseld staring at you, a person she once found so inconspicuous now becoming the very reasoning she stays in a town she hates so much. Whatever you had the girl under needed to be looked at.

“Do you like me?” Is what she wants to ask, but “Do you have a boyfriend?” is what she settles for.

You turn to her, meekly shaking your head. Since when was she sat so close to you?

Ellie nods, looking back at the show to get you to, before asking another question, “Girlfriend?” You shrug, “I mean, I use to talk to this one girl..”You mutter, before Ellie finds herself furthering it, “What happened?”

You sigh, before pointing a finger, “Don’t laugh.” you glare. Ellie smiles, nodding. “She told me she was straight after like 2 days AND THEN, i saw her kissing on Judy.” Ellie snorts, “No fucking way, Judy the librarian?” You nod, burying your face in a nearby throw pillow.

“I need a drink.” You mutter, getting up and leaving the room with Ellie in it. You return shortly after with a bottle of wine and some glasses. The girl groans as she stretches, “Now you’re talking. Pour me some.”

Eventually, the topic heads in the way of relationships once more, with you two telling each other of your awful sex lives in the majority straight town Jackson was as you sip.

As Ellie tells one, you find your eyes feeling heavy, alternating between her green eyes down to her pale pink lips. You nod, poorly attempting to give the illusion you were following along with whatever she was saying. Ellie, herself, wasn’t all that there but she was better. She’d stopped talking long ago and was just moving her lips with no dialogue coming out whatsoever, seeing if you’d ask why she halted her story. She licks her lips, leaning back as she places her glass down on the nightstand near her— jean-clad thighs spread tantalizingly as your gaze drops to them.

Her years of martial arts and track did her well, you admit, hoping it wasn’t obvious you were ogling the girl.

“Were you mad at me earlier?” you whisper, fidgeting with the loose seam of her jeans as you notice the difference in how she was acting at the cabin, and how she is now. Ellie hums, matching your small voice. “I was more so mad at myself.” She answers you, her hand finding where yours toys with a string, “Not at you.”

You nod, not really having anything to say.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally utter, liquid courage taking over as Ellie thumbs your soft hips from where you sit so closely. She gives you a soft ‘yeah’, pulling you onto her lap. You begin by littering feathery pecks along her jaw, her sensitivity earlier when you touched her chest beginning to make sense when goosebumps begin to arise along her pale skin, her nipples hardening as the hair on her neck stands before kissing her deeply.

You two kiss slowly for a while, finding some rhythm as it slowly turns into something else. You gently gasp when Ellie rocks your hips onto her thigh, making you detach from her mouth and straddle it the way she wants you to. The rough texture against her jeans on your soft shorts makes you huff a bit, face burning up as you grip her shoulders.

“You’re my sweet girl, you can do it.” She murmurs lowly, watching you grind all over her, your slick slowly starting to seep onto her denim pants— all like she wanted. You nod, frustrated to the brim of tears when you can’t seem to fuck yourself on her thigh well. Ellie pushes you down, caging your legs in between her hips as she tilts her head back down, "Seems like you're not the only sweet girl wanting my attention.." She smiles as you moan, the heel of her palm placed directly on your touch-starved mound, giving it just enough pressure and angling to make you whine out a small 'Ellie..'

She gives you finally what you want, sliding your shorts to the side and sighs when she sees just what a mess has been waiting for her.

No underwear?

You attempt to leverage yourself by sitting up on your elbows but Ellie pushes you down, hiking your hips up even more with a singular grasp of your shins as she kisses directly on your puffy pussy, your messy sap smearing all over her lips before giving you a grin,

Oh, you'd pay her what she was worth alright. Maybe returning Joel's checkbook can wait after this.

[All credits to the owner of the picture above!! i got it from popipa on pinterest]

#tlou 2 #Ellie Williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x f!reader #wlw #tlou 2 smut #sapphic #ellie williams blurbs #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us game

574 notes · View notes

past-the-comfortzone · 8 months

Text

Little things I'm catching on a rewatch:

From "who would wanna use their last days not fucking and fighting?"

"Last day of the afterlife and you're not off snorting a line off some hunk's abs?"

"Eh. You fucked one cannibal pool boy, you've fucked them all."

"I guess you have changed."

"Hey, Charlie said live tonight however we wanted, so pour me a fresh one! And lets get to living!"

(I am sobbing, you hear me? SOBBING)

(Also if you listen very closely to this scene while they talk at the bar you can hear a slowed down version of Loser, Baby in the background) (Once again: SOBBING)

"I can sense they're planning to kill me. But when?! How?!"

(Bro thats's so meta. They didn't need to do him dirty like that.)

"Don't worry mom, I'll make u proud."

"Only...seven...years. Off doing something important, I'm sure! But this kingdom was really something she cared about"

Welp. She's relaxing is heaven.

(Really love how Lucifer was built up to be this awful person, and Lilith a very loving person, but so far it seems to be the other way around.)

Funny things I missed the first time around:

THE TEXT.

"Bad. It makes us look bad!"

"Funny, I was going for hilarious."

Vaggie doesn't know what she's saying. Alastor was right. The text had me dying fr.

Never noticed Alastor had a little tux get-up for a few seconds I feel so robbed. Also in the commercial, he has his back to the camera and I just LOVE the possibilities as to WHY.

Did Vaggie force him to participate?

Did he still want to be included bc he's a little egotistical attention seeker?

Did he do it it bc he knew Vox would see it and it would fuck with him?

I need to know because like why are you even there little red demon man if you're gonna be barely out of frame and looking away??

Either vox had two mugs made except one with extra text OR (and my personal headcanon) he rushed to write "FUCK ALASTOR" on his mug just before Stayed Gone.

964 notes · View notes

lbxbx · 9 months

Text

Cockpit | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s early in the summer, about the end of June you are finally able to take a weekend off of work, the hospital you work at never gave up on you through the weekends, especially during summer weekends where most accidents occur, which is specifically the season you regret taking your medical degree.

Standing in your apartment around 8 in the evening, struggling to correct your eyeliner in front of the long full body mirror in your bedroom, you curse under your breath for fucking up your eyeliner again before putting down the pencil and smudging the stupid line you already put on your lash lines.

You applaud yourself, even though you sucked to begin with, it didn’t turn out half bad. Or at least that’s what you convince yourself.

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand which makes the music you’re already playing on your phone go quieter, you turn while singing the missed part of the song you’re playing, you look at the screen, it’s Hoseok, your high school best friend who ended up being your really close friend even after all these years of studying abroad and being busy with work, your parents became close with his since they already love him.

You slide down the notification.

“you better be ready when im there”

“u know I hate waiting in the car”

“and you always take so long so pls be ready”

You were going to the club to celebrate the last weekend of your friend Yoongi being single, you had already chose a short flattering, but very revealing dress, barely covers your lower ass, silver that fully exposes the tattoo on your spine of a long flower that ends on the nape of your neck, your dress barely covers your lower back, with silver high heels.

You rarely get a chance to dress up because of your time consuming work that robbed all the fun out of your life, not long ago you started balancing work and having an actual life, you and Hoseok visited different clubs and went on so many hiking trip together through the past year which resulted in you making a new friend to add to your group, Hoseok is such a social butterfly and a comfortable person to be around.

Your lips curve in a soft smile, well he’s right, no matter how hard you try to manage your time, you’re always late, your fingers automatically hover over the screen to reply.

“yes sir.” With a salute emoji.

You get up and take off your pajama set and get into the small dress you chose, you loosen your big curls and make the final touches, you’re looking perfect and you knew it, tonight will be solely about having fun, Yoongi is actually getting married!

Your phone rings after a few minutes and you know it’s Hoseok, you answer and inform him that you’ll be down in seconds, you take your purse and put in your sample size perfume, phone and lipstick, before getting in your not comfortable very high heels, you turn off the lights and make your way out of the building.

You spot his fancy Porsche parked right in front of the entrance, you roll your eyes when you see him walk out the car and make his way towards you.

“Look at you.” He holds his hands out to hold yours. “You look like a disco ball.” He spins you and whistles, which makes click your tongue and look at him with your free hand on your hip.

“A beautiful disco ball.” He elaborates, he looks good too, wearing a gray suit with the first 4 buttons of his off-white shirt unbuttoned. You hug him and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get going we’re already late.”

Flaws and all, I love ‘em all, to me you’re perfect

The moment you walk into the club, Hoseok walking behind you with his hand on your back, slowly guiding you to the table you’re friends booked, place already packed with people. And once Taehyung spots you he gets up with his drink in his hand. “Finally.” He starts dancing, slowly making his way towards you, which makes you sway your shoulders, dancing with him and laugh at him, clearly he’s already drunk.

He hugs you in his big arms and kisses your temple softly. “There you are, I hope you enjoyed the hike you didn’t invite me to.” He says in a sarcastic note making you nudge him in the chest.

You, Hoseok, Yoongi and his fiancé Mia had went on a hike a couple weeks ago which Mia suggested and you couldn’t decline her offer, you could’ve told the boys but it all happened so quick, you didn’t get a chance to invite any of them.

“Come on, it wasn’t that fun any way.” You say subtly into his ear which he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, he hugs Hoseok before both of you approach your table, you hug Yoongi and he hugs you back. “It’s really happening huh?” You rub his back.

“I’m really putting my dick in jail.” He laughs, handing you his drink, which you don’t think twice before sipping it.

“Come on, we’re getting a round of shots!” Seokjin moves a seat away to give you space to sit, his hair grew longer than you could ever remember, he pushed it back but a few strands manage to slip on his forehead.

“You guys are already drunk?” You exclaim before taking a shot glass from him, you all stand up and clink your shots together.

“To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” Jungkook says loud which makes you all repeat after him. “To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” You swallow the shot and cringe immediately at the bitter taste, which makes you chase it with the nearest glass of juice you find on the table.

“Hey. Y/N, let’s dance.” Jimin puts his hand on your back, you shake your head immediately in refusal. “I need more alcohol.”

Jimin ends up pulling Taehyung to the dance floor, you take your seat between Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok already headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

“They finally let you off work?” Seokjin asks out loud for you to hear him, you nod and straighten your back. “I didn’t take a weekend off since October.” You pout, he nods and take a sip of his drink. “You’ll figure it out soon, it’s always difficult in the beginning.”

You and Seokjin met at the bar near the hospital you work out, he’s a pediatrician resident in his 4th year, you never knew he worked at the same hospital until you met him at the bar, it was only Hi’s and Hello’s at the beginning of your friendship, but he made his way into the group when he actually showed up when you needed him, he’s a bully sometimes, which makes you laugh even when you force it out, but he’s the sweetest.

“And you?” You turn to Yoongi. “How are you not panicking?”

He rolls his eyes at you and puts his drink down, “Typical Y/N”

Studying abroad has definitely made you a bit more open minded than usual, it’s not that you refuse relationships, you’re totally not against them, but it’s just not your thing. You’ve never been through a full experience to love and be loved, but you never craved it. Back while you were studying, your week nights were devoted just for studying and focusing on your career, but on the weekends, you had to spend them out, partying, clubbing, having flings with a couple of people, you liked your lifestyle and you still enjoy it being like this.

You nudge Yoongi in his arm and add. “You’re so brave for doing this, I’m happy for you.”

“I would totally agree with Y/N, I would panic.” Jungkook shrugs, which makes you high five him.

“Come on.” Seokjin scoffs. “Jungkook wants to pound every pussy in Seoul before getting married.”

“Word.” Hoseok agrees without even getting the context while putting your drinks down, Jungkook’s mouth falls as if he was offended. “He’s not wrong.” Hoseok shrugged.

Not long after, you’re not completely drunk, but drunk enough to get on the dance floor with Taehyung and Yoongi, you’re sandwiched between them, the three of you dancing to the loud beat of music, the dance floor is crowded as hell, people making out and kissing in the corner of the club, some even grinding against each other, the place smells like a mix of perfume, cologne, and hormones.

Seokjin joins you eventually and starts dancing with you, you laugh at how stupidly drunk he is, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes barely kept open. You lean closer to his ear. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You go over to the crowded bar, you hardly find a place to stand next to man waiting for his drink, you stumble on the small step you didn’t see, which you curse under your breath for not paying attention, you barely bump into the man’s elbow, you out of habit apologize while panicking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, you could feel him looking down at you while you’re checking if your heels are okay, you shrug it off once it looks okay, you walk closer to the bar while leaning your elbows on it, waiting for the bartender to notice you.

“Are you okay?” The gentleman asks, right until now you realized you don’t know who this deep voice belongs to, you turn to look at him, sharp nose, a charming smile with a soft dimple on his cheek, small orbs that stare right into yours.

You visibly gulp and nod, studying his face and features more, he even dares to shoot a sweet smile at you. He knows he has a beautiful smile and he uses it as move to make.

And at this moment you realize you’ve been quite for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” You nod, you know it’s not that hot in June, but you’re sweating. He turned his face to the bartender and you notice his soft jaw and long neck, his long fingers wrap around the glass, you’re pretty sure he said something, but you were busy staring at his buff arms making their way to his back pocket to locate his wallet, your eyes chase every single movement he makes, and with his hands locating his wallet in his front pocket, your eyes fall on his thick thighs, where did this man come from?

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks, immediately making you snap out of your thoughts, you look up and clear your throat. “I’ll have a martini.”

An awkward silence and tension builds between you and the man right next to you, you want to say something but you don’t want to sound stupid, you choose to ignore your thoughts and just take your phone out of your purse and act occupied, you look very stupid when you’re deleting old pictures on your phone.

“Y/N?” He says, which makes your eyes widen and you almost choke in your own breath, you look at him again, Do you know him?

“I’m sorry?” You answer surprisingly fast, which makes him take a sip from his drink and laugh. “Your phone case is a pass card.”

You’re confused for a second, still trying to process what he’s saying, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to be this stupid and slow and thick?

He can easily read your face and he shoots you another one of his smiles, he knows what he’s doing.

He gives you a look, which clearly means ‘Can I?’, And you shrug telling him to elaborate. He grabs your phone and flips it over still remaining in your hands, which reveals your see through phone case, that you have your hospital pass card inside it, showing your full name in a large font.

“Ah this.” You immediately turn your phone back, you hope he didn’t see too much, like where you work or what’s your job. You look back at him to see him staring right into your face, studying your features too.

“I’m Namjoon.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you don’t hesitate at all to shake his hand back and feel his long fingers squeezing your hand ever so softly, both of you shaking hands and not letting go for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.” He grins, which makes you feel like something is pinching you in your stomach. “But you have your pass card on full display, which if it makes you feel better, I just saw your first name, nothing else.” He adds, like he knew what you were concerned about.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls from behind, which makes you pull your hand away from Namjoon’s in the speed of light, your weird attitude doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he looks back at Jungkook and turns back to face the bar and take a sip of his drink.

“Come on, we’re popping the champagne.” Jungkook’s hand sits respectfully on your upper back, you nod and look back at him. “I’m waiting for my drink, I’ll follow you in a second.” although your drink has been sitting in front of you for the past few seconds, Jungkook is too drunk to notice and he heads back to your table, Namjoon turns to look at the sight of Jungkook joining the rest of the boys around the table.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks, which you think is a little bit over the line.

“Him?” You cringe. No offense to Jungkook, but you and him are just friends, you almost ended up sleeping with him long time ago and thankfully it didn’t happen, you’re just friends, and you’re smart enough to know it’s wrong if you did it. “Absolutely not.” You enunciate it.

Your fingers wrap around your drink and you know it’s your turn to make him look. “Nice to meet you Namjoon.” You clink your glass with his that’s resting on the table, and you turn and move your hair to the side to expose your tatted back to him, you walk towards the table and join the boys for the rest of the night.

Your night has come to an end, you’re leaning against the wall outside the club with Jimin waiting for Hoseok to bring his car, your heels in your hands and Jimin’s jacket on your shoulders, muffled music from inside still in your ears, you’re done for the night, you’re not completely drunk, but you started having a strong headache minutes ago, you need to rest, shower and go to sleep.

You laugh at Taehyung teasing Jungkook and you join Taehyung, Jungkook ends up flipping Taehyung off and sending you a fly kiss which is way over you when you see behind him Namjoon, walking out of the club with what seems like his friends.

Ironically, you can hear the song ‘Satisfaction’ played from the inside.

Push me, and then just touch me.

Till I can get my satisfaction.

He had his suit jacket in his hands, he was rolling his shirt sleeves slowly up with his long fingers.

Are you drooling?

He sits on a near bench and just man spreads his legs, his hand taking out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, he takes one out and puts it in between his plump lips, clicking the lighter a couple of times while shielding the flame with his other hand before it goes to his hair and runs his fingers through it, he looks around and notices you staring at him, you’re not even blinking. He hallows his cheeks while taking a drag and blows out a huge cloud of smoke.

This man walked out of a fucking book!

He doesn’t hesitate to show you his dimple one last time before winking at you, your breath hitches and your hand goes to your stomach, there’s a knot that you feel only he can make it feel better, you’re sweating more than usual, and you can feel the heat between your legs getting uncomfortable.

“Drive safe Hoseok.” Jin opens the passenger seat and looks at you, you snap out of your thoughts and turn towards the car, “Don’t forget our dinner tomorrow.” He adds.

You had already planned on a celebration dinner for Yoongi too, this time a little more formal considering some of the boys are bringing along their girlfriends. You nod and look one last time at Namjoon. You secretly wish you took his number or had a drink with him, but you’re not a girl who makes a first move, for your pride’s sake, it’s always guys making a move on you.

“Text me when you get there safe.” Yoongi leans his palms on the roof of the car, you get into the car and buckle your seat belts.

You and Yoongi didn’t meet long ago, about a year and a half ago, you were with Hoseok and Jungkook playing bowling, when Jungkook got a little too competitive and decided to challenge the table next to you, which had Yoongi, his girlfriend, now fiancé. And other friends. Yoongi won of course, which you and Hoseok admired that finally someone humbled this man, you met him again at the bowling place and you just clicked with him. He’s also offered his help since he works at a bank, he makes everything easier for you. He’s a true friend.

“Good night.” You smile at him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You wave to the rest of the boys and they wave back, you turn to look at that bench again, Namjoon must’ve left because you can’t locate him, you lean your head back into the car seat and your hands move to the air conditioning, you’re on fire!

Hoseok didn’t drink throughout the night since he’s driving, he did take a couple sips of whine, but he’s not drunk at all.

Doesn’t take that long to get back to your place, you undress and get into the shower and clean off your makeup, you take a bottle of water out from the fridge and sit in your living room.

The images of this man is haunting you, you only know his name and his face, you don’t know what he does, where he lives, how old is he?

You look at your phone and open up your social media, shuffling between the apps and searching ‘Namjoon’. You don’t even know his last name, he could use a picture that’s not his.

Your friends admired that you were talented in finding people’s accounts, especially when one of the men had a secret crush on a girl, you would help them find her social accounts by trying to search in different ways.

And you did manage to find an instagram account, the username matching his real name, the picture was taken on a beach, a figure of a tall man with his back turned to the camera, it could be him after all

You open the account but it’s clearly not active, following 120 accounts and followed by 70, and only 1 photo uploaded. But the account is private.

You put down your phone in frustration and sigh, you end up gulping your water and going to bed. It’s just a one time thing, you won’t see him again.

Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the moment he walks back to his house when he feels the heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, he stands in front of his apartment door, debating whether he should go inside or just go crash at his parents.

No, no. They don’t have to know.

Kim Namjoon, the successful man who went out of the box and did the extraordinary, chose an out of the box job, with a high degree. Quickly managed to pull his life together and marry—well not the love of his life, it’s the woman he got used to being around.

Married for 3 years and not once did he feel that this marriage is about them, it was about her and only her.

First year was low key not that bad but not that good either, every married couple have fallouts, but he assumes that they both have to compromise, but only he had to compromise. She wants everything done her way, she wants him to eat what she eats, go where she goes, not out of love, but out of habit of controlling people around her.

Yet he was sweet and considerate, she travelled to a different province to live with him away from her parents, maybe that’s why she’s acting like this, she’s probably homesick, he did everything he could to make it up to her, he bathed her with love and gifts and money. He wanted to show her the world quite literally, but she just refuses every act of love, even denies his touch in front of their family, never did she ever like a photo he posted of both of them, she never left a comment which he really craves. He wants to show people he loves her.

Even when he once tried to surprise her on their one year anniversary, booked her first class seats to New York on new years eve, she completely rejected and never even said thank you. Goodness, she never even gifted him on his birthday.

Second year things went significantly downhill, when they found out she’s pregnant. Planning for kids was never on the table, not that they don’t want kids, but this kid is totally unplanned for. He so desperately wants to be a dad, but he’s not sure how she feels about him, or most importantly how he feels about her. They’re married just by name.

She made up an excuse for being a tough sleeper and she wanted her own bed, he gave up the master bedroom to give her her own space, and moved out to the couch at first when he thought it was temporarily or short termed.

3 Months, 4 months..

9 Months passed, she gave birth and came up with another excuse of the baby crying at night, he had flights to catch in the morning, she doesn’t want to mess up his sleep. As if she cares.

A man has his own desires, he tried different ways, kissing her, touching, even suggesting movie nights to show her something that might make her aroused, none.

He adores his son, that’s what’s keeping him sane at the moment, although when he comes back late from work, baby Jay mostly gets ready for bed by that time. Play time with daddy is not allowed, he can’t even love his son the way he should.

His son turned 2 in their third year of marriage, he can now talk , walk, even run. And baby Jay doesn’t seem to like mommy as much as he likes daddy, although he spends most of the weekends in Ilsan with her parents, but he’s still attached to his daddy.

It was 2 in the morning, standing in front of his apartment door, the debate tonight is taking longer than usual, especially when he saw you, the astonishing lady who fucking screams his type, outgoing, gorgeous, attractive, social hence your large group of friends.

He searches his pockets before fishing out his ring, puts it back on his left ring finger, before pressing the pass code on the door, the lights are.. On?

He makes his way inside his flat and locks the door behind him, “Where have you been?” She storms out from the guests room, a huge ugly frown on her once he thought was a pretty face.

“I’m sorry, I went out with guys from work.” Namjoon’s job kind of restrained him when it came to having friends, he did have some, but they ended up getting busy with their regular jobs and life, it became easier to hang out with his co workers because they got off work together, plus they click and get along really well.

“Do you know what time it is?”

When he looks at her, he swims in a deep pond of thoughts in his head, he can’t even remember the last time she showed him skin, he did excuse her when she gave birth when she wanted to be in comforting clothes, but their soon is at her parents house, she could at least try and show some skin.

In a pair of sweat pants and an oversized stained shirt, who is he to judge, at least she’s comfortable, and those stains show her effort of being a lousy housewife.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes for the second time in a span of 4 minutes, walks closer to her, a few inches away from grabbing her hips, she immediately hovers her hand on his chest, not even touching him, signaling him to get away. “Ew, did you smoke?” She covers her nose with the back of her hand, before turning and walking towards the bedroom while shutting off the living room lights. “Clean yourself up and go to bed, and turn of the rest of the lights, we’re paying too much for the bills.”

A small breath of frustration leaves his nose, she slams the door shut which he doesn’t even flinch, he’s so used to her being the worst human being he’s ever met.

He puts his jacket down on the couch and throws himself down on it, his head falls back and his eyes just close for a split second.

Music from the club still playing in his head when he remembers your breath taking figure walking away from him, your back explicitly making a show for him, he wished he could touch your tattoo with his fingertips at least. And what you didn’t see was his eyes roaming around your body, as if he’s not believing his eyes actually seeing someone that looks exactly like the woman he imagined having in his teenage years.

His eyes so passionately with high concentration focus on your calves and thighs, up to your ass that he wants to dive in so desperately, he admires your skin color, the small birthmark on the back of your thigh, your chest rising when your breathing quickens, up to your long neck begging for his fingers to just wrap around and for his lips to suck on, up to your lips pursing with each word and your tongue moving to your lower lip when you look at him, then finally his eyes met yours, and he finds the way you look at him insanely hot, he was never looked at like this, and he’s so positive that you both are on the same page.

His eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he rewinds the night.

Did you just flirt with someone when you’re married? He thinks before scoffing, totally forgetting the tought that he started filing for divorce a couple weeks ago, without even letting his wife know, it’s the last thing he wanted for his son to experience his parents getting a divorce, but his marriage went down the pooper and it’s just a lost cause.

The lawyer said it’s going to take some time, especially when there’s a baby between them, but still, is he allowed to flirt with someone while still being involved in a marriage?

But fuck, what you actually do to him? He finds himself palming his jeans, slowly but surely unzipping it to make himself more comfortable, the bulge in his pants is way too tight for his liking.

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom, undressing in seconds and getting under the running warm water, his hands move to his body lotion before he puts some into his palm and rubs it all over his sculpted big body, his hands going slowly to his already erect cock, he grabs the head tightly in between his thumb and index finger, stroking it slowly, making sure to take his time to feel the pleasure, his eyes even close and all he can see is you

Namjoon was a man with a fucking wild brain and an even wilder imagination, sudden scenarios go through his brain, you dancing, even him touching you, his eyes close tighter, not totally satisfied with his vanilla imagination, it needs to be harder.

And in a snap of a finger he can see himself fucking your tight pussy from behind, ruining you and using you to release all his frustration, he imagines kissing your spine and running his tongue on it. His messed up thoughts show him your mouth around his monstrously large dick, choking on it, and that’s when he totally gives in and grows weaker, his muscles relaxing when he shoots continuous white ribbons of cum on the shower floor, his breath going quicker when he releases, he tenses again and a small groan escapes his plump lips when he looks down at his cock still shooting cum, this has never happened with him before and it makes him wonder on the spot, fuck what are you doing to him.

His palm automatically leans on the wall for support, he starts breathing slowly to control his breath. He came hard imagining you in his hands, which if you knew you would be flattered.

He cleans himself up and gets out of the shower, gets dressed and rushes to bed, he has to pick up Jay from Ilsan tomorrow.

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon

375 notes · View notes

girlboybug · 1 year

Text

Ultraviolence

"he hit me and it felt like a kiss."

or the one where ellie finds refuge in your farm house, whereas joel only finds a challenge of self restraint when he meets you.

what’s playing 🎧 : ultraviolence by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, mean!joel, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, manhandling, rough sex, spitting, slight voyeurism if you squint, f!masturbation, m!masturbation, spanking, fingering, slight dom/sub dynamics, panties fetish, creampies, unprotected sex, breeding kink, light restraining, choking, tummy bulge, impact play if u kinda squint and tilt ur head, degrading, light praise, daddy kink im sorry yall (not rlly), unspecified age gap, dirty talk, fluff for 2 seconds at the end :p

TRIGGER WARNINGS : reader has emotionally absent/verbally abusive dad, takes place after the david incident but there's zero mention of it lolz just background for yall, joel is mean and rude tbh, kinda very toxic but im addicted to old toxic men sowwy (plz dont ever let a man treat yall like this irl!!) anyways this is all i can think of, lmk if i missed anything! otherwise pls enjoy!! <3

a/n : wouldn't be a fic written by user girlboybug if the reader didn't have raging daddy issues lolz

there’s creaking at the front patio, the old wood worn down by countless stomps from your boots never failed to act as an alerting system for any trespassers. your heart sinks when you force yourself to get up, the responsibility to inspect the origins of the noise falling on your shoulders alone.

yippie.

your hand finds its hold around the neck of your dad’s shotgun, sock covered feet waiting a pregnant pause at your door, swallowing down the brunt of your nerves thickly. you inch out the door, holding the shotgun as steady as you can, eyes fighting to not fail you by succumbing to the night blur that glazes over your vision.

your sights land on a figure of a man, anxiety hitting you with the heel of its fist into your nervous system once his silhouette becomes clear before you. you pointedly aim at him, praying that the act seems intimidating enough. “you’re trespassin’” you call out, prompting him to raise his hands beside his head, keeping his movements slow and careful as to not give you a reason to shoot.

“just lookin for shelter ma’am,” he replies, his voice feels deep when it hits your ears, not stopping short of rich. “not buyin’ it. now i’m not gonna repeat myself, leave before i blow your goddamn head off,” you shoot your threats in the place of bullets, but your tone gives out on you, giving in to your fear, cracking in on itself mid sentence.

a young girl moves from behind him, her hands also beside her head. “ellie,” he whisper yells, trying to move back in front of her. your hard glare falls into a guilty gaze, and your shotgun falters downward. “thought i told you to stay behind me–” she cuts him off, probably causing a vein on the side of his temple to burst with stress when she moves in front of him to speak.

“we’re just looking for somewhere to stay for the night, and we’ll be out of your hair by morning. we promise.” the now named girl swears, looking at the man that dwarfs her in size for extra confirmation. “promise her joel,” she hushedly instructs and he huffs, looking back at you. “promise.” he adds gruffly.

they look like father and daughter, and you don’t have it in you to turn them away, and despite the possibility that lingers in the back of your mind that this is all a ploy to rob you blind, you settle on the fact that it’s worth the risk to let them in.

your shotgun rests beside you, no longer using it as a shield from the fear of an impending threat. “okay,” you verbally decide, and ellie lets out a sigh of relief, leaning into joel. he holds onto her with a sense of care, of protection, and your heart pangs at the sight as they climb up onto the patio.

your lips drop open unintentionally when the man that now has a name and a face to go along with it, stands before you.

he’s tall, he’s handsome, much older than both you and the girl. “thank you ma’am,” he says, a curt nod from the top of his head, and ellie offers a small smile, joining in his nod. “thank you,” she whispers, and you smile back, moving to the side to let them in.

immediate comfort envelopes the pair, a quiet breath of it being expelled from them, and you close the door behind you, locking it to make sure that the warmth from inside doesn’t morph into the frigid wind outside.

“there anyone else with you?” joel questions, unintendedly sending a worried alert in your mind, your body language showing a visible uncomfortableness at the question.

ellie notices, nudging joel with her elbow. “dude?” she mouths, eyebrows furrowed, silently asking, what the fuck?

you find yourself trusting her more than you do him, which is just enough of an amount to get you to believe he doesn't mean to sound as sketchy as he comes across. “just me and my dad. he’s asleep upstairs,” you respond, and joel looks back at you, pursing his lips, nodding.

“i’ll show you where you guys can sleep, and i can even get you a change of clothes.” you say, flickering between the two of them before turning on your heel. they trail behind you quietly while you lead them to their temporary rooms.

walking up the stairs, and past the stretch of the hallway, you stop at one of the spare rooms, pushing open the door. “there’s this one, and then,” you lean over, pushing open a door to the room just beside it. “this one. up to you guys to decide whoever gets which,” you send them off with a nervous smile, rubbing your palms over your pajama bottoms.

“thank you,” ellie calls out, lowering her voice but keeping it at an octave audible enough for you to hear. you turn back, smiling at the young girl before going into your bedroom. you grab a pair of pajamas for the pair, trying to be quick so as to not keep them waiting.

you return to them, finding them both in the same room, sitting at the side of the bed. ellie’s head is leant against joel’s arm, his stare resting over her. the pang hits you again, but you push past it, gently tapping your knuckles over the door. his stare moves from her to you.

“these are for her, and here’re some of my dad’s old clothes for you. they should fit, but if not you can uh, let me know and i’ll find something else for you.” you set them down beside him, and he nods, a tight lipped inch of a curl over his mouth spreads just slightly, acknowledging your actions.

“these should be fine,” he places a hand over the folded clothes, where your’s was and you find yourself swallowing hard again. his hand is big.

“alright, well goodnight.” you wish kindly, making your way out the door, nodding a polite bidding. “night,” he responds, traces of southerness apparent in his vowels. “thank you,” he makes sure to say before you leave.

for everything he wants to add, but he doesn’t, which is okay, you can hear it through the crickets and the quiet peacefulness that passes through the room.

you leave him with an equally hushed response of no problem, the door closing behind you at the curt ending of your reply.

–

your eyes snap wide open, a low wince falling out at the sting from the rude awakening your body is being subjected to. your name rings as a harsh echo, and you’re quick to your feet, remembering the girl and the man staying in your home, unbeknownst to your dad. “shit,” you groan, hurriedly rushing across the hallway and down the stairs.

and there was your father, loud, angry, and yelling at…joel? if you remembered his name correctly. “who the fuck are these people and why are they tellin’ me you let them in last night?” he all but shouts, and you feel small, humiliated.

“i did, i’m sorry, they don’t mean any harm, they just needed a place to stay for the night.” you answer meekly, and joel’s fists tighten, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more than to plummet his fists into the side of your dad’s jaw.

“lord,” he exhales, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. he walks towards you, a finger pointed at your face when he speaks.

“if they wanna stay they better make themselves useful, if not, i want them out my goddamn house in 5 minutes.” he snipes irritatedly, eyeing you down with annoyance, making sure you saw the seriousness in his face before he leaves, trudging out the front door. ellie watches with sympathetic eyes as you flinch when he slams the door shut.

it’s quiet for longer than you’d like for it to be, but you’re unsure of what to say after being belittled in front of people who are virtually strangers.

“what a dick,” ellie exhales and joel looks at her, eyes wide, lips tight with chastising ready to be released. “ellie!” he chides and she raises her arms in disgruntled defense. “what? he is!”

you laugh, and they turn to you surprisedly. “yeah, he is. i’m sorry about that.” you sigh, and joel shakes his head. “no, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to impose and cause you all that trouble.” he apologizes, genuineness in his softened tone, a pane of his thick drawl behind it, and it soothes away the feeling your dad left you with.

“it’s alright, it’s just how he is,” you say, attempting to pacify their concerns, but ellie, blows out a quiet breath, eyes slightly wider when she tilts her head side to side. “massive asshole,” she mutters, and you giggle before joel can chide her once more. she smiles at your laughter, and joel just sighs his 100th sigh.

“you guys can sit, he’ll be gone for most of the day. i can make some breakfast before you have to go?” you offer, motioning towards the dining table, desperate to move past this topic. “mighty gracious of you, but we should get goin,” joel inadvertently rejects your offers, and you frown.

ellie turns to him, a hopeful stare chipping away at his decision. “dude please, there’s only so much chef boyardee i can take.”

you stifle a laugh at her pleading, tying an apron around your waist.

“fine.” he sighs, and ellie whispers a successful yes!

–

as time went by, you grew closer to ellie, but almost as a trade off, it seemed as though joel drifted further and further from you, leaving you with no idea as to why.

you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and the more you tried to do…well, anything, it only pushed him away instead of bringing him in closer.

granted, you did do things that prompt some kind of annoyed response from joel, like right now, as joel stands in the bathroom, his eyes falling to your discarded panties on the ground.

he marches out the bathroom, searching for you. “ellie, where’s the girl?” he asks, and she can hear the irritation building in the base of his voice. “uh, outside, she’s picking some fruit, why?” she queries, turning around from her seated position on the couch to face him.

he strides towards the door, eyes glaring straight ahead. “no reason.” he replies sardonically, and ellie rolls her eyes, flipping back on the couch.

your dad had gone into the next town over to collect more supplies, do some more trading and other various things, but you didn’t care, he’s gone for the time being, and you’re happy, at ease, with more time to look after your garden and spend time leisurely picking at the fruits that hang from the trees above you.

you’re resting on your knees, overalls rolled up to your thighs, bandana covering your hairline, nimble fingers plucking at the strawberries from the array of bushes. the rays of sunlight blanketing over your skin suddenly vanishes, and you turn, hand over your forehead when you look up at joel.

“oh hi joel! strawberry?” you chirp, offering a plump strawberry, and he exhales through his nose, eyes raking over you.

you have a habit of almost never wearing bra’s, and you just about live in overalls and shorts, always accompanied by some tight fitted top.

god, you make his life so hard.

little pink ribbons are tied over the top strap buckles of your overalls, and you look so adorable that it almost makes him angry.

“no, thanks, look, i know it was your bathroom before it was mine, but for the love of god, please stop leavin’ your…undergarments on the floor.” the subtle twang increases just a notch at the way he rattles about your sightly panties.

your face gets hotter than it was from the sun and you drop your arm, looking away embarrassedly. “oh my god how embarrassing, i’m so sorry, i’m just not used to sharing my bathroom, but that’s not an excuse, i’ll take care of them, i’m sorry joel,” voice pretty and soft, just like you, and he sighs, staring at you for a thick standstill, before going back into the house. “messy girl,” he mutters to himself.

he finds his way back into the bathroom, eyeing the suspect in question, feeling the strings in his chest pull in tight. he picks up the pair with a curl of his finger, eyeing it like a foreign object.

he clenches down on his teeth when he stares at it, the pink striped cotton is soft, a little bow adorning the front of it.

he feels dizzy.

he honestly considers pocketing them, but immediate disgust kicks in and he drops them, walking out.

dirty old man.

–

you are inescapable, easily running joel’s patience down into the dirt beneath his boot. your dad is still gone, but joel and ellie listened when he said to be useful.

they help you around the house, almost doin ’more than you, joel would grumble, but no matter how much he busied himself with chores, there was hints of you in everything.

when he’s feeding the chickens or collecting their eggs, he can look not too far out and see the clothesline where you air dry their laundry, not a single thought about letting your bra’s hang from the wire, taunting joel.

he imagines you in it, the racy little red number, nipples perked behind the flimsy material, shoulder’s beckoning to slide the straps down.

“shit,” he grunts, looking down and seeing the smashed egg in his fist, squeezed to pieces from the intensity of his perverse thoughts.

sometimes he thinks you do this shit on purpose, mocking an old man with something you would never give him, and he feels like banging his head into the wall.

and in this moment he feels it’d be an especially good time to do so, exhaling sharply from his flared nostrils while he searches around for you, calling out your name, only to be met with no reply. he can’t find ellie either and he’s panicking, he’s panicking bad.

he shouts your name from the very depths of his stomach, and he pushes every door he sees open until he stops at your bedroom door, pushing inside and growling with anger when he sees you laid upside down in your bed, hands resting on your tummy with thick headphones clamped over your ears.

he stalks towards you, bending down and ripping your headphones straight off your head. your eyes snap open and you jerk upwards from the bed, clambering off the bed in the most unflattering way possible, rushing to get to your feet.

“joel what the hell? what’s going on?” you ask, and he scoffs, mad that you have the audacity to be annoyed here.

“where the fuck is ellie?” he grits out, and you sigh, snatching back your headphones when you answer. “she’s in the stable with my horse, she’s fine joel.” you promise, and he squints his eyes, shaking his head frustratedly.

“y’can’t just send her off somewhere on her own like that and not even think to tell me, and – dammit, don’t wear those goddamned headphones when i’m callin for you, god you are so irresponsible,” he rants, his voice trailing up a ledge of loud anger, and it’s your turn to get mad.

“okay joel, you need to stop fucking yelling at me, she’s still on the damn property, she isn’t gone in the next town over, i’d never put her in a situation where she could get hurt and secondly, you don’t get to talk to me like that and tell me what i can and can’t do in my own house.” you’re in his face now, making an effort to stand up for yourself, but joel isn’t tolerating any of it.

“you listen here little girl and you listen good,” he moves in closer, and you suddenly feel overly aware of his proximity, almost immediately backing down to move away, but no, you wanted to talk back like a big girl, you’re going to face the consequences of one.

“you best lose that nasty fuckin’ attitude of your’s, i don’t care if this is your house or not, it ain’t an excuse to act like a goddamned thoughtless brat.” he’s breathing heavier now, his face too close to your’s, chest dangerously nearing your own.

your eyes nictate back and forth in his, desperately suppressing the tears that imperil at your waterline, biting on your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. “you’re such an asshole,” is all you can manage to fire back through a weak excuse of a response.

he scoffs at you, stepping back before marching out your room. “no shit sweetheart,” he sneers with a lowered baseline of exasperation.

you fall back on your bed when he’s gone and out of earshot, holding your face in your hands, allowing yourself to let out the tears that almost spilled out in front of joel.

your fists wipe the tears away, angry that they were even there, each stream down your cheek is a reminder of who caused them.

refusing to give in to the pain that gnaws at your chest from his spewing anger, you get up, walking out your room, deciding to make your way around back to the stables.

ellie was saddled over applejack, your only horse, with joel sitting behind her, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her steady, keeping her safe.

the gnawing bites down harder inside your chest, and you’re unable to fight against it. instead you cradle yourself, comforting the ache while leaning against the bulk of the tree behind you, watching them interact.

his gaze over her is so soft, so full of care, of love, and he’s laughing, which enables her laughter, and you find yourself smiling as you watch them despite what had just transpired.

you watch as ellie plops the cowboy hat you had left on applejack’s saddle over his head, and your back gets stiff against the bark of the tree when she does.

he fixes the hat atop his head, and it annoyingly suits him well.

he looks like a proper cowboy.

your eyes drift down to the way his hips roll with each trot from applejack, his back leant naturally, looking relaxed, confident, like he knows what he’s doing, and that he knows he does it well.

his hand runs over the side of applejack lovingly, his strong hand smoothing over her coat, and you feel like crumbling down into the soil of the earth, breathing in a little harder when you imagine those rough, strong hands of his on your skin instead.

you reach up, pulling a peach from the tree above your head, settling down to sit and just watch the two gallop along with applejack.

joel’s eyes find you, they always do, and almost like she just knew, ellie decides to lead applejack back over to where you are. joel’s hands tighten over the reins, jaw clenching when they make their way over to you.

“well hi there sweet girl,” you coo, petting applejack when she bends her neck downward, greeting you happily.

you bite down into your peach, laughing quietly to yourself when the juice spills down your cleavage. joel follows the way the juice rolls down your chest, disappearing behind the pesky coverage of your tank top, and he feels like it's a punishment for his previous yelling.

you hand the rest of the peach into applejack’s mouth, cooing an, aww there you go sweet girl.

“damn these look good.” ellie whistles, reaching up to pluck a peach down.

she drops it, and she groans when it hits the ground. “i got it, don’t worry!” you remedy, turning around to bend down and grab it for her. joel feels like dying when he sees the heart curve of your ass, it’s almost too perfect, and he wonders if this is how his heart finally gives out.

kinda looks like a peach… he thinks to himself, eyes tracing over the form of your ass for as long as he can before you’re turning back to face them.

you go up on your tippy toes, quickly grabbing another peach, handing the new one to ellie and tossing the one that fell over to joel.

“you get that one,” you half tease, half huff, and ellie laughs, waving her clean peach at joel. his eyes settle on you while you talk to ellie, ignoring his presence.

his teeth sinks down into the peach, his stare trickling over the way you’re squeezed into those stupid fucking tiny shorts, and he thinks about a different type of flesh to bite into.

–

nighttime visits your household once more, but it’s anything but peaceful for you and joel.

ellie knocked out as soon as she collapsed in her bed, but joel’s wide awake. he wants to sleep, wants to forget this day even happened, but he can’t. he replays everything despite his efforts to pretend that the events from today didn’t even occur.

however, guilt drags its spindly fingers across the muscle of his heart while flashes of his loud anger directed at you forces itself to be acknowledged behind his eyelids. with a disgruntled huff he rips the blankets off his body, climbing out of bed.

he pushes past the door, making his way to your room to apologize for his harshness.

the closer he gets to your room, the more he hears a concerning sound gently echoing from behind the door. his brows fly up and he grips at your doorknob, turning it. his knuckles tighten over the knob, his body standing still and stiff in the cracked entrance when he sees you.

you’re sprawled in your bed, sheets hanging off you, covering not a single thing, leaving joel to wonder if what he’s looking at is real or not, and if it is, should he even be looking at you like this?

he knows the answer to that, it's a big fat resounding no, but joel doesn’t exactly have the purest morals of all time, so he stays in spite of his conscience telling him to close the door.

he watches your head roll side to side tirelessly, back arching off the bed, bucking your hips into your hand, struggling to pleasure yourself the way you need. your fingers keep sliding off your poor clit, too soaked to keep a good grip on it.

it sounds sticky, even from where joel stands, it’s all so fucking dirty, your sweet little whimpers going straight to his cock, pushing up against his sweatpants that already hang low off his hips.

he palms at himself, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache. his eyes follow the curve of your bare chest, your tight tank top under your chin, pretty tits in the air, hard nipples that are begging to be in joel’s mouth.

you whine to yourself, eyes watering with frustration when your fingers refuse to stay put on your needy clit, trying to instead fill your fluttering hole that clenches around nothing.

joel’s fingernails dig into the doorframe, physically restraining himself from going in there and shoving himself so far into you that it hits your cervix, stretching you nice and open for him.

he thinks about how he’d make you take it, how you’d claw down his back while he fucks you like you deserve.

he feels disgusting, like a goddamn pervert, but he again wins the battle against any morals he has left and stays to watch. you sound so wet its fucking ridiculous, he just wants to lap it all up on his tongue and drink you in.

but what he really wants, is to make you beg, to make you cry.

you further test his will, when his name floats from your trembling lips, his jaw going slack at the unreal moan. his hand falls to his straining cock, squeezing it, silently pleading with you to be good and say it one more time for him, to confirm he heard you right.

and you do, you whimper his name, an airy little, joel, while grinding down on your finger, trying to angle your hips to hit a spot you hardly ever have success in satiating.

good girl, he grits without a sound, his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock.

you think back to him yelling at you, ignoring the pain of the memory, and instead rewriting how the fight ended. your brain conjures up an alternate ending, where he bends you over the foot of your bed, smacking his hand over the fat of your ass before he rams himself inside you.

you think about his back curling over yours, his cock too deep inside you, muttering for you to fuckin’ take it.

he’d have his face in the crook of your neck, his beard would tickle your skin while the dirtiest words you can think of would be listed off in your ear.

his beard, your hips rise in the air desperately, your mind now imagining his stubble between your thighs, how his mustache would brush over your clit until it’s raw. “please, want it joel, want it so bad,” you moan to yourself in a pleading fluttery little voice, and joel almost steps forward at your begging.

i’ll give it you, he promises to himself, wishing he could tell you instead.

he can’t fucking take it, he drinks in the bare sight of you once more, memorizing each curve, the way your voice trembles, the way your legs shake, the plump of your thighs and chest, and fuck, he thinks he’ll pass out before he can even make it back to his room.

he carefully closes the door, striding hurriedly back to his bed. he shuts his door, making an immediate dash to his awaiting mattress.

he pulls the blanket over his hips, tugging down his sweatpants and letting his cock spring up. he uses his precum as lube, too impatient to spit in his hand. he fists at his fat cock, pushing past the roughness from his palm, pretending that it’s your soft hand wrapped around him.

he thinks back to what he just saw, imagining that he did step inside, closing the door behind him before making his way to you.

you’d probably get scared at the sudden sight of him in front of you, but he imagines that you’d be too desperate to care about his actions.

you’d grab his wrist, bringing his hand to your poor little cunt. “touch me, please joel?” you’d plead with those watery eyes of yours, and he would, he’d touch you until you couldn’t take it.

but he’d make you take it, he’d stretch you out on his fingers before he’d get his cock in you. he can only fantasize about how good your tight little cunt would feel all around him, how snug you’d be, gripping him in, but no matter how hard he tries to pretend, he knows his imagination does your pussy no justice to how good it’d actually be.

he starts fucking his hand, head falling back into his pillow, his bicep’s flexing with straint while he goes to squeeze his cockhead, traveling back down to his shaft, struggling to please every inch of himself.

he wonders if you’re a virgin, wonders if anyones gotten to see you like how he did, or did they get to experience it themselves?

he gets jealous at the thought, but he erases it, instead thinking of the possibility of no one ever getting to touch you but him.

yeah, he likes that, he likes thinking about being the first and last cock you’ll ever have deep inside you. shit, he growls, thumbing over his leaking tip, he’s close.

he starts panting, chest falling more rapidly with heavy breaths, his hand working over himself faster now, the slick from his pumping fist around his cock is embarrassingly loud, but he uses it and pretends it’s the sound of him in your pussy, and that does it for him.

he cums in his fist, slowly thrusting into the tunnel of his hand before he releases himself, and he groans, letting his body sink deeper into his bed.

fuckin’ disgustin’ he mutters to himself.

–

he can barely look at you the next morning, he feels hot all over when you so much as walk past him, your scent always trailing behind you and filling his senses.

you smell like the sweetest form of vanilla and it makes him unstable, feeling like he’s gotta hold onto something to remain upright when you’re near him.

you make your own soap, and, of course you make your own fuckin’ soap, he thinks to himself, growing weaker by the second when you talk about how you used vanilla beans in your recipe for soap.

you offer to make some for him, but he declines as politely as he can, finding any excuse to establish some space. he can’t be near you, not now, and not later, he needs time to remind himself what self control is.

he decides to chop some firewood, the nights are getting colder and colder anyways, and he thinks this’ll be a good distraction for him.

he pours all his frustration into it, swinging the axe from behind his shoulder and down into the blocks of wood, chopping them up into logs.

sweat lines his forehead, his biceps bulging from the tight constraints of his rolled up flannel, and you watch from the window, staring at him as he leans back, taking in a few deep breaths while he wipes his forehead before continuing.

you swish your thighs together, walking away when you realize if you don’t move now, you’ll stay the rest of the day just watching him.

after a few hours outside, joel is beat, he thinks he deserves a break. he trudges back inside, sighing when he’s greeted with the fresh air conditioned breeze.

your legs hang off the arm of the couch, head resting on a cushion and buried in a magazine.

he eyes your legs while he walks into the bathroom, almost unable to tear away from them. but when he walks through the door, he closes his eyes immediately once they land on the ground, as if the sight before him physically hurts.

he exhales with aggravation when he sees your white cotton panties on the floor, and your cream lacy bra hanging off the towel rack, mocking him.

he’s had enough.

he stomps out the bathroom, and you brace yourself for the latest lecture when you hear the nearing ruckus of his boots connecting to the wood floors.

he yells your name, his voice curling around the curve of an upward rage. “what joel,” you yell back mockingly, he stands above you, looking furiously down at you.

“what did i tell you about your goddamn panties and bra in the fuckin’ bathroom,” he shouts, jabbing his thumb back towards the bathroom. you huff, swinging your legs from the arm of the couch, rising to your feet. “i’m sorry!” you throw your arms up annoyedly.

“i’ll get ‘em, i understand it’s annoying but joel you don’t need to yell over every. fuckin’. thing, you can talk to me like a normal person,” you contradict your own words, pointing a finger at him while you shout back.

he grabs your finger, pulling your wrist down and away from his face, beaming anger glinting in his eyes.

“thought i told you to get rid of that nasty fuckin’ attitude little girl,” he spits, words hanging in the air like a venomous gas, and you all but growl with irritation.

“i’m not a little girl and you’re not my dad, y’don’t get to talk to me like that you fucking dick,” you bark back, feeling a sudden fear when you see the way he’s looking at you.

his top lip curls with disdain, and he nods slightly to himself, like he’s just mentally made his decision.

he grabs you by your upper arm, dragging you along with him back around to the couch. “let me go,” you try pulling your arm from him, but it does nothing, his grip is stronger than your efforts.

he sits down, pulling you into his lap, grabbing you roughly and repositioning you so your tummy rests over his thighs. “what are you doin–” he holds your jaw, forcing you to crane your neck to face him.

“i’m gettin’ real sick of your fuckin’ back talk, you say you’re not a little girl yet all you do is act like one, a real rude one at that,” he grits in your face, and you feel small, wishing the couch would just swallow you whole.

“i ain’t your dad but you need some serious fuckin’ discipline,” he lets go of your jaw, letting you fall back into the cushion. he unhooks your overalls, pulling them down and under your ass.

he exhales lowly when he sees the hypnotic curve of your ass, clad in baby blue polka dotted underwear, it’s too cute that it makes him sick.

he doesn’t even think when his hand runs over your ass, smoothing over your skin, squeezing the thick flesh in his large palms. you whimper under your breath, squirming in his hold. “stay still,” he orders, his tone cold, riding on a mean line of pointed annoyance.

“you’re gonna say you’re sorry with every one of ‘em, you hear me girl?” he asks, resting his hand on your ass testingly.

you nod quietly, but it isn’t good enough, he’s grabbing your face again, forcing eye contact. “when i ask you a question you answer.” he sneers, teeth baring for a second and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling your clit ache embarrassingly from the harsh treatment.

“i hear you.” you reply meekly, and it suffices, because he’s letting go of your jaw, refocusing on the new task he has at hand, or rather, in his lap.

he rests his palm over one cheek, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, the warmth from his hand tingling your skin.

your clit is right up against his knee, and you want more than anything to rut on it, roll your hips to gain any kind of friction, but you figure you’re in enough trouble as it is so it’s best to hold back these desires.

he raises his hand, slamming it back down and eliciting a loud smack that resonates around the room. you cry out, gripping onto the cushion under you. “i’m sorry,” you whimper out, skin prickling with heat.

he does it again, his heavy hand rising up only to crash back down against the fat of your ass. “i’m sorry,” your voice trembles, your eyes already beginning to water, despite the fact that you’re just barely getting started.

he slaps over your ass, hard. his rough calloused palm emitting an even stronger sting over your soft skin, and you cry out, kicking your legs against the armrest of the couch, feeling the anger increasing with each rough impact from his palm.

“i’m so-orry,” you hiccup, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. he continues with the abuse on your ass, feeling a twinge of guilt at the way you cry but manage to say your apologies with each relentless hit to your bottom one after the other.

“you gonna listen to me when i tell you to do somethin’?” he raises his voice, along with his hand, letting it fall down onto your pounding flesh when you don’t answer fast enough. “yes, yes gonna listen,” you wail, little feet kicking with pain.

“gonna lose that fuckin’ attitude of your’s?” he grunts, smacking your ass hard over where he just hit, watching you howl in anguish, back trying to arch away from the pain.

“yes,” you sob, nodding with earnest.

you’ve lost count of how many it’s been, the only thing that remains consistent is the hot pain that comes in waves over your bruising skin, the welts in the shape of his hand throbbing and aching in never ending flashes.

he rubs over your skin, soothing the soreness away, before he drops his hand against it once more, erasing the little comfort he was giving you.

you’re apologizing through loud wailing, not a care in the world for how embarrassing it is to be sobbing in joel’s lap, because it fucking hurts.

he swats over your ass, fast and rough, letting the sting of it settle into a prickling pain that spreads down to the backs of your thighs.

after a few more hard hits to your ass, he figures you’ve had enough, your crying making him feel a pang of remorse for not taking it easier on you. he runs his hand over your scorched bottom, mending the abused flesh in an attempt to calm you down.

you’re crying, lashes getting slick from your tears, lips growing plump with the loud hiccups of pain. he massages over your ass, gently this time, but your skin feels too raw to enjoy it.

his self restraint is weakening, he can’t stop himself when he tilts his head back, leaning into the couch to look down at your inner thighs. he sees a wet patch spreading over your panties, and he scoffs, bringing two fingers to it.

you gasp, trying to wriggle away from it, but he keeps you still. “interestin’” he half snickers, and you just about die of humiliation.

“reckon you want me to do somethin’ about this?” he murmurs, voice gruffly cascading in the teeming air. he circles over the wet patch, giving you a chance to turn him down, shut down his advances, but you don’t want to.

you bend a little, arching into his touch. “please?’ you whimper, all embarrassment gone from the pain, and he inhales a hefty breath, swallowing thickly.

he slides your panties to the side, drawing his fingers up and down your slick. you shiver, tightening your legs around him.

“can’t believe you’re soaked over that,” he taunts meanly, judgingly, and you whimper, your face getting hot from the base of your throat when he pushes in his middle finger.

“you’re s’mean,” you sniffle and he scoffs at your complaints, pushing his finger in deeper to watch you gasp and shake.

“i showed you what mean is,” he chuckles lowly, leaning down to make sure you hear him. he shifts his hips around, pressing something to your hip, making sure you feel it.

“and this ain’t mean,” he curls his finger right up into that little spot you struggled to reach last night. he starts curling his finger, right there, and suddenly you can’t breathe, you can’t even believe this is happening, but whether it’s real or not you don’t want it to stop.

“more,” you whine, pushing back on his hand with a devout need. his free hand grips at the bruising flesh of your ass, the plumpness of it filling the gaps between his fingers, and you wince, little hands trying to grip at the cushions for comfort.

“you’re a greedy little girl with no fuckin’ manners. do i need to do this all over again just to remind you to say please?” he raises his hand back up over your ass, and you’re shaking your head, turning back at him pleadingly. “n-no, no, i’m so sorry,” you whimper, the backs of your hands covering your stinging bottom feebly.

he laughs at your attempts, but decides he’ll let it slide. he moves your hands away, and pushes his finger back inside, filling you up to the knuckle. you moan deeply, relief at the pleasure entering you once more. the way he fucks you with his finger is all you need to even begin trying to ignore the resounding pain he instilled into your ass.

little pants leave past your lips, your cheek squished against the couch while you try to fuck yourself onto his fingers. “feel’s s’good,” you drool.

he can’t stop the downward spiral he’s letting himself fall into with you, he’s in too deep, and he’s just accepted that he wants to go deeper.

you’re rutting your clit against his knee just how you’ve been wanting to this whole time, and he watches you as a desperate little wet thing in his lap trying to get off with what he’s giving you.

"you know i saw you last night," he whispers in your ear, beard tickling your neck when he leans in real close, his finger picking up speed when he continues.

your face burns hot, and you can't bear to look at him. "oh god," you moan, half from pleasure, half from pure humiliation.

"heard you sayin' my name too, there somethin' you wanna tell me?" he pushes you a little further, watching and waiting to see how you reply.

you're so disoriented, you can't think straight past the embarrassment and the feeling of joel refusing to let up with his finger inside you. he rubs over that perfect spot right there, and it feels so good that it almost kills the shame that burrows itself under your skin.

"n-no? no, i dunno," you whine dumbly, and he rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist harder now, gripping the hand of yours that tries to hold onto him. "you don't know?" he parrots back mockingly.

"you just so happened to be tryin' to finger yourself while moanin' my name? that just a coincidence?" his words jab at your cheeks with taunts and you whimper, hiding your face away from him, still shamelessly grinding down onto him when he works another finger in you, stretching you out.

"i'm sorry," is all you can whimper, you feel stupid with his fingers in you, bullying your poor cunt until it makes that addictive pap pap pap sound. "apologizin' for the wrong thing, should've been sayin' that instead of talkin' back to me," he grunts, letting go of your wrist to smack the side of your ass.

you cry out, shaking in his lap from the slap, the pain echoing over the sore flesh. "i'm sorry," you draw out longly, chest racking with tears mixed with pain and ecstasy.

he pulls his fingers from out your tight hole, and you whine, looking back at him with those pretty, innocently guilty eyes of yours.

"quit your whinin'," he mutters, pulling you upright into his lap. he looks back into your gaze, and it only reminds him of how you're breaking him down into a weak, weak man.

his thumb runs across your bottom lip, dipping into it. "open," he tells you with a softer, hushed sternness. you obey, parting your lips for him.

he spits in your mouth, and you take it like a kiss, carrying the action like a caress. it mixes with your own saliva, ingraining himself in your dna.

he stares at you expectantly, hands lowering down to your ass, squeezing it indignantly, like a warning.

"thank you," you breathe out, feeling drunk on him. he seems pleased, his tight clasp over your ass gets gentler, but it's still firm, still there.

"got a real issue of rememberin' your manners there girl," he tsks, his thumb trailing down your chin, his other hand patting your bottom. "but i'll fix that, fix that right up." he promises, but it feels more like a threat, one that he intends on staying true to.

he lays you flat on your back onto the couch, and you allow him to, letting him do whatever he pleases with you, and he thinks he likes you like this, so sweet and so pliant.

he pulls your legs towards him, he feels hungry, feels impatient, he wants all of you and he wants it all now.

joel hasn't wanted anything in years, because if you don't want anything, you won't be disappointed when you don't get it.

but now he's got you in front of him and he can't take it. he wants you. he's greedy, and he's dirty, but he doesn't care, you've done irreversible damage that he expects will be somehow repaired if he can just get a fix of you, just enough to gratify his bodily needs.

your legs find their way around his hips as if you've done this before, as if his body has been with your's prior to this, connecting like they're supposed to. he slots himself between your thighs, feeling almost overwhelmed to finally have you like this for him.

you want to kiss him, want to hold him, want him him him, and although you've already got him, you still feel like there's more of him to be had.

he unbuckles his belt, the sound urging your legs to tighten around his waist. his eyes drag over you, slowly taking in the vision that's you, as he unbuttons his jeans. he pulls himself out, your gaze dropping down to him, feeling your heart sink immediately.

you never assumed he was small, not that you thought about what was under those jeans, (lies) but shit, this was just obscene. near unnecessary, because how in the hell does he function carrying that…thing around?

he sees your gawking, and an annoying pride fills him to the brim at your visible awe. "is that gonna fit?" you finally ask, and he laughs, pumping himself when he inches closer. "we're about to see aren't we?" he answers, moving your panties to the side.

you get stiff with nerves, holding onto his strong bicep. "joel i-i dunno if it'll fit," you admit, you sound scared, because you are, and he almost feels bad. almost.

"if you don't want this tell me now," he places your panties back, but you're shaking your head, pulling him back in. "no i do, i do, promise," you sound so desperate, so needy, and he's trying so hard to not just fuck you right now.

"just, scared…i never uh..you know." you motion between you two and he swears he nearly punched the air with obnoxious success. "this your first time?" he confirms, and you nod, feeling shy under his stare.

"not like i've been trying to save myself or anything, there's just no one around over here," you explain, not that you needed to, if anything joel is ecstatic with a primal possession that he gets to be your first.

"so you're jumpin' at the first man who gives you some attention? 'specially an old man like me?" he circles the tip of his cock around your clit, and your lips part, hips instinctively lowering down on him. "n-no, i," you don't have any words for him, his actions rendering you silent.

he starts slowly inching in, and your head falls deeper into the cushion behind you, nails crescenting into his forearms. he goes in with no resistance, you're so fucking soaked around him, gripping him in like a warm welcome.

"shit," he shudders, fully sheathing himself inside you. his hand lands beside your head, panting above you, and he looks so beautiful like this. he's so handsome, his eyebrows are in that furrow that they're always in, but this time it's for a different reason.

you look down at where you're connected, and you feel as though you're now one, he's a part of you as you are of him, and you never want him to leave.

you start rolling your hips experimentally, no matter where or how you move, you feel him deep inside, the fat head of his cock hitting there, over and over, and it feels so good, you don't think twice about continuing your little ministrations.

he forcibly pauses your actions, halting your hips down with a rough grip from his hands. he's glaring down at you, uh oh.

"greedy little girl," he grunts, starting to piston his hips inside you. you cry out, leaning forward to find solace in his broad chest, but he pushes you back down, pinning you still. he pauses for a moment, grabbing his belt. "wrists." he orders, and you listen without wasting a second.

he ties your wrists, pushing them above your head before he continues. he's groaning atop of you, fucking you with a purpose, and you take him, entire body bopping upwards with every harsh thrust being fucked into you.

you want to touch him so bad, it feels like torture, you want to put your hands under his flannel, explore the skin that lies underneath, but he's denied you of that privilege. "brat's got such a tight fuckin' pussy," he grunts, impaling you hard onto his cock, stretching you out so good you can't stop yourself from trying to meet his thrusts.

the moans that pour from you are endless, all you do is whimper his name, crying for him and it inflates his ego, but he can't have you being this loud. a hand clamps over your mouth, and you moan behind it, any touch from him is welcomed wholeheartedly.

"quiet down girl," he grits, leaning in close while his thrusts grow harsher. "startin' to think you left your panties for me to find, bet you wanted me to get mad, jus' wanted some attention huh?" he moves his hand away from your mouth, instead using it to grip your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. "speak," he orders.

"n-no, no i just fo-forgot, promise," you swear, words feeling difficult to pronounce and even think of when he's got you stretched out on his cock like this, fucking you dumb.

he doesn't believe you, his hands working around your throat soon after you squeak your response. "no?" he teases, his hands growing tighter around the pane of your neck.

your wrists wiggle around the confinements of the belt, wishing you could hold the hands that have you cradled like a glove.

"f'you just wanted my attention, or just wanted to get fucked," he rests on his haunches, pulling you with him, letting you slip down further onto his cock, the corners of his lips curling when you cry out. "then just fuckin' ask, don't need to be pullin' stunts like that,"

his hands around your throat feel loving, they feel safe, and perfectly fitted around you, like his hands were made for this. the lack of air feels right, feels like this is what you needed, and you want more.

tears well at your pretty eyes, rolling down your cheeks while you grip at the buckle on his belt, his cock moving so deep inside that you feel him in the base of your tummy.

he releases your throat, and you gasp for the air you didn't even realize was depleting. he pulls the belt loose, and you immediately go to his arms, running over them. squeezing at the muscles, feeling impressed with how they flex under your touch.

your hands travel up to his face, his beard tickling your palms. "feels sososo good joel, never felt like this," you slur, eyes falling shut at the pleasure. "yeah? this all it took for you to fuckin' behave?" he groans, your hands running across his wide back, trying to feel him, feel the muscles that you've only ever gotten to steal glances at.

he's letting you fall backward again, hovering close to your level, his cock filling you to the hilt, and then some, and you want to tell him how full you feel, how good it feels to have so much of him in you, but the words are lost on you, there are no thoughts left to be had, just pure physical manifestations of what he's doing to you.

"kiss me, please?" you beg, and he doesn't argue, doesn't mock you or tease, but connects your lips, kissing you hard. you moan into his mouth, calf resting on his lower back while he pushes in and out of you. his beard brushes around your chin, your nails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting his turn to moan in your mouth.

he kisses you like he fucks you, rough. it's rushed, messy, wet, but there's power in the way he does both, making you feel hazy, dizzy, and overfilled with rapture all at once.

every push, and every shove into the couch is registered as soft, gentle caresses, loving affection, so graciously given to you by the rough hands belonging to joel and you take it all in stride, left wanting more, craving more roughness that just feels like love instead.

his face falls to the warmth of your neck, nipping, biting down onto your shoulder when he buries himself further than you even knew possible, inside of you. your mouth parts, a string of whiny moans leaving past them when he grinds into you, bucking your hips to meet his.

"finally bein' so obedient, should've just gave in an' did this sooner," he grunts into your skin, hands holding you down by your hips. his fingers find your clit, rubbing over the sensitive nerves just like how you did last night, and you choke on a moan, tangling your fingers in his salt and peppered hair.

"so good, feels so good, thank you daddy," you cry like a prayer into his neck, and he sends an especially hard thrust into your cunt, knocking the air out of you. you feel frozen in horror when you realize what's just come out your mouth.

"that's real nasty y'know that right?" the sick curl in the corner of his mouth contradicts the shame he throws at you, and the way his cock twitches inside you acts as further proof that there's no truth in his mocking.

you cover your face in his shoulder, but no, he wants you to look at him when he fucks you, he wants to see the way those pretty lips of yours mold around the word that rightfully belongs to him.

"don't get shy now," he huffs, holding your jaw, head falling back when he feels you clench down around him. his hands fall back to where they belong, wrapped snug around your throat.

he watches the way your eyes roll back, bottom lip being sucked in while you try fucking yourself onto him. "dirty fuckin' girl," he grits, squeezing you while your fingers curl over his, intertwining with him. "s'all right, i can be your daddy," he grunts, pushing in and feeling you squeeze him when he lays his promises to you.

you force your eyes open, gazing at him hazily while he pounds into you. he brings his hips down to yours relentlessly, no mercy in the way he fucks you. he's growing messy, falling out of tune when he slows down, shoving himself all the way in you, letting the sensation of the way you wrap around him be appreciated like it's supposed to be.

"my fuckin' cunt, you hear me? repeat." he releases your throat, and you gasp, sputtering while you nod. "yes, s'all yours," you hiccup, watery eyes making out a blurry joel in front of you. he presses his hand to your lower stomach, groaning to himself when he can feel his own cock piston in and out of you.

he lessens the speed in his thrusts, slowing to watch his cock fill you up. you squirm at the extra pressure, pawing at his wrists. "so much, it's so much daddy," you whine, and he grunts, feeling pride at the way he's got you so fucked out. "take it," is all he says, sounding gruff and strained.

"can i cum please? promise m'gonna be so good for you daddy, gonna listen an' everything," you cry, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him in deeper. he grits his teeth, chest getting tight at your pleads.

"really think you deserve it?" he grunts and you nod, gripping onto his shoulders. "yes, please, i promise, promise m'gonna be good, please please," he concedes to your begging, bringing his fingers to your clit.

you gasp, panting in all the air that'll fit in your lungs when it all hits you. your skin is tinged with heat, legs trembling on either side of joel's waist when you feel the tides start to ripple closer to you until it crashes, pulling you into the ocean and you're drowning. drowning in joel.

"thank you daddy, thank you s'much, so good," you muffedly sob, face in the crook of his shoulder while he fucks you through your orgasm, fingers running over your clit, winding you up just to watch you fall apart.

"fuck, squeezing me so hard," he laughs breathlessly, slipping into a heavy moan at the way you're clamping down on him. "so good baby, take what you need, that's my girl," he groans, holding your waist down, fucking you with a rushed need. the backs of your thighs rest over him, and you feel weak, but fulfilled, watching adoringly as he uses your body to cum. bursts of pleasure still erupting inside you at the way he fucks you.

my girl

you whimper at the fleeting affections, unknowingly clenching harder around him.

"shit, shit, gonna fuckin' cum, gonna fill this pussy up, greedy little cunt can't get enough," he groans, head falling forward while his orgasm envelopes him, the slick from your mixed arousal loud while he gasps, grunting with a few harsh thrusts. he pushes into you with finality, cumming deep inside you.

he slowly pulls out, and it stings, you're wincing, feeling bare and cold.

he pulls your panties back over you, eyeing the way his cum pools against the material, and he feels good, feels like he's permanently marked you as his. he tucks himself back into his jeans, catching his breath before he turns his attention back to you.

he dresses your limp body back into your overalls, his hands now ginger and gentle over your skin, touching you like you've suddenly become glass. he sits at the end of the couch, pulling you into his lap.

he's careful when he sits you down, aware that your ass still probably hurts. he lets you curl into his side, the last bit of trembling slowly leaving your body from what just happened. his palm runs up and down your back, feeling content at the way you rest on his chest. "feel okay?" he asks quietly, and you hum a sleepy yes.

your hand rests on his chest, toying with the buttons. "you've always been a sweet girl," he says, feeling like he needs to clarify that, and you smile against his chest, feeling relief and giddiness at his admittance. "a messy one but, sweet nonetheless," he pats your back and you shoot him a joking glare.

he holds you closer by tucking his hand under your thighs, cradling you into him. he kisses your temple, the first gentle action of the day. he tells himself he'll indulge in that more when he sees the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel and ellie #tv tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #songfic

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 years

Note

OK THE STEVE ZOMBIE AU BUT HE DOES FINALLY MIRACULOUSLY FIND ROBIN OR MAYBE DUSTIN OR LITERALLY ANYONE FAMILIAR. Our girl is happy but also like 👀 u finna ditch me now?

theres literally no zombies in this lmao </3 apocalypse au with new (but not really) boyfriend steve wherein you reunite with some old friends and find a community (and worry steve is gonna break up w u) fem!reader 7k words

The border between Indiana and Michigan is quiet. Nothing denotes its location besides a Welcome to Indiana sign.

Steve's hand tightens around yours. You stand there for minutes, wind breezing past your tired bodies and ruffling his limp hair.

"Do you think this is our last time seeing Indiana?" you ask quietly.

There's no need to shout. The town surrounding the border is abandoned.

He drops your hand. You miss his touch and the soothing effect it gives to hold it immediately.

"Maybe," he says. "Does that bother you?"

It fucking scares you. Staying there wasn't really an option anymore, not with the infestation of geeks dribbling away from Indianapolis or the lack of food. And besides that, you'd wanted to get to Michigan badly. Steve and his friend Robin had been planning to come here together before their untimely separation. Half of Hawkins had been aiming for Michigan after the news broke all those months ago — Illinois, Ohio, and Kentucky overrun by flesh-eating monsters.

But if you leave Indiana, you're admitting it's a lost cause. That the lives you led there are gone, candles snuffed out by a sudden ripping gale.

"I just…" You look over your shoulder at Michigan. "Can't believe we're here."

"I think I'm glad we're here."

You cock your head toward him.

"Not just to find Robin," he clarifies. "But, no offence? Indiana was kicking your ass."

You grimace at his implication. Indiana was kicking your ass. You've rolled your ankle more times than you can count. You'd fallen ten feet through the floor and given yourself a major concussion. You've been snarled at, robbed at knifepoint, and almost eaten.

"Fucking Indiana," you say.

"Fuck Indiana." He turns on his heel, but not before he's wrapped a hand around your arm to drag you with him. "Michigan better be nice to my girl, or we're going to Canada."

You've already let him walk you a couple of feet when you have the bearings to splutter, "Your girl?"

He ignores you, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips. You’re pretty confident in being his girlfriend, but something about being ‘his girl’ makes your head rush.

You'd found a gun a little ways back but no ammunition for it. It's a good prop regardless, so Steve keeps it in hand stuffed into the pocket of his windbreaker ready to scare off anyone with enough wits to find guns scary. You're sitting ducks otherwise, armed with one small penknife and the metal baseball bat that Steve keeps in the strap of his rucksack, so you stick to the side roads. Being out in the open is risky. You're used to this mode of living, adept at slinking and skulking in dimly dark places.

"Steve?" you ask, a murmur in the ringing quiet. Cicadas chirp in the trees, leaves rustling with each burst of wind.

"Yeah?" he asks shortly, distracted by the door in front of him.

He's attempting to pick the lock of a convenience store's sidedoor. You're standing guard.

"Where do you think Robin is?"

He doesn't answer for a while. He works a delicate job, the slim pick in his hand creaking formidably with every wrong move. He's too forceful, and you're the better locksmith, but your wrist still twinges from your fall in the woods a few days ago. Steve's too protective for his own good.

"I don't know. But she's smart, and-" He hisses, hair falling into his eyes. "I'm hoping she's still here."

"If I were her, I'd wait for you."

He tips his head back to meet your eyes. "If you ever stay somewhere dangerous waiting for me, I'll fist fight you."

Usually you'd burst into laughter at his familiar abrupt absurdity — you've grown to adore his jokes now that you know there's no real malice behind them — but you want him to hear what you're saying. You want to know if he'd do the same.

"I would," you say softly.

The lock clicks open.

Steve grins at you. "You won't need to. You're stuck with me like glue."

Inside of the store is a sorry sight. While the shutters had been down, a good sign, the interior is much less promising. Sunshine filters in through the smallest cracks, casting a scarce light over what's left of the aisles. Two are crushed to one side as if a huge hand has swept them away. Smashed booze bottles litter the floor. Glass like snow crunches underfoot, and a sticky sour smell is heavy in the air.

You ease into the room on pins.

"There's gotta be something," Steve says, pulling his pocket-sized torch out to give you a better view.

Where the shelves have collapsed, there's a small tunnel to the front of the room. You bend down to assess it.

"I think there's cookies over there."

"Where?" Steve demands. You point to aforementioned treats.

He army crawls through the gap and pops out on the other side. Those few seconds where you can't see him are unsettling, and from the speed with which he looks at you, he may have felt the same.

"Keep an eye out," he says.

You turn to the door. You've closed it tight but it won't lock without a key, and anyone might assume what you have and come inside.

Steve hisses an excited, "Yes!"

"How'm I s'posed to keep watch when you're doing that?"

"Babe, there's fucking Chips Ahoy." He loves them.

"I'm sick of Chips Ahoy," you mumble to yourself. "I miss carrots. And potatoes. I miss pasta. Pasta."

"Should I be jealous?"

"Definitely. I'd trade you for a full, home-cooked meal any day, handsome. Fresh made pasta, sun dried tomatoes. Garlic bread." You could cry thinking about it, all those rich flavours together.

"Call me crazy, but I think we could make you some pasta. Look-" He holds up a small jar. "Crushed garlic."

You brighten. "Where'd you find that?"

Garlic is a great flavour to make literally anything taste better, like all the canned stuff people don't always take: artichoke hearts, asparagus, aubergine.

"Holy shit, score.” Steve holds another tin up, torch held between his chest and his upper arm.

Your eyes turn round as saucers.

That night, you decide to stay in the convenience store. You'll be cornered if somebody tries to get in, but you'll be safe from geeks and the elements. Two out of three isn't bad.

You and Steve share the only fork, chowing down on his amazing find of tinned vegetable soup and dumplings. It barely registers in your head that it's cold, it's so nice to be eating something that isn't spaghettios. You could've built a fire outside to warm it if you weren't scared of being spotted by scroungers. Or worse, cannibals.

"Maybe we should go outside. Look for smoke," you say. Smoke means people.

"Good idea.” He urges you to take what's left of the soup, stands, and kisses the top of your head as he does.

You're pretty sure there's bliss like the light of a star radiating off of your skin, elated at his easy affection. You're almost as happy to get to finish the soup.

While he's gone, you open your bag and scrounge for what little self-care you have. Toothpaste is abundant in every store no matter how looted, as is soap, but soap needs water, and you're running low. You brush your teeth with toothpaste alone and use a little bit of water on a rag to wipe the oil off of your face, guilty and thankful at once. If you don't wash yourself when you can, you'll go crazy.

You apply another layer of roll on old spice and hope it'll hold out until you can find another lake, river, or tributary, which shouldn't be impossible. Michigan is surrounded by water, a fact that had put you off coming here at first.

You go where Steve goes, though, so Michigan it had been, and Michigan it is.

Your first night’s already proved fruitful. There's more than enough food here if you're willing to get weird (and you and Steve usually are). More food than you could carry.

Which is a little suspicious, now that you think about it.

Nobody thought to look here?

Is there anybody to look?

You push all your stuff aside and scramble onto your knees, suddenly paranoid. Steve's taking too long, what if this place is a trap? A honeytrap to lure in mindless ants. What if they've already grabbed him, and–

"Oh, Jesus," Steve says as he opens the door, voice uber loud in the night time stillness. "You scared me. What's the matter, need to pee?"

"I thought somebody kidnapped you," you say, trying for joking and missing by a mile.

Steve leans against the door. He's regained his controlled volume and demeanour, "Safe and sound. I'm serious, do you need to pee?"

You and Steve pad out your corner of the store against the pilfered chip aisle. He lets you use his chest as a pillow, and when he turns off the torch there's nothing to do but listen to his breathing and feel his chest move under your ear.

You rub his sternum with the heel of your hand. "You could use me as a pillow sometime. If you wanted to."

"Yeah? You're softer than me, I think I'd love that."

You draw a short line to his navel, thinking. Lucky to have found him. Lucky to like him this much, and lucky that he likes you. You're 'his girl', and you get to sleep on his chest and sometimes when he's not worrying himself to the bone he'll tell you secrets. You know him better than you’ve ever known anybody.

He curls his arm around your shoulder and takes your upper arm into his hand, the heat from his fingers seeping into your skin. You've taken off your coat because it's uncomfortable. Steve will fold it over your chest when you fall asleep.

"It was a good day, right?" He sounds terrified of jinxing it.

You kiss his chest, or his t-shirt, so lightly he likely doesn't feel it. A kiss for your sake rather than his. "It was a good day."

He holds you close. His heart thrums in your head.

"Floor's like a fucking ice cube," he mutters.

You cover as much of him as you can with your arms, sleep tugging at your eyelids. "I'll keep you warm," you promise as they close. "Wake me up when you get too tired."

"Alright." He massages your arm in his hand gently, and you fall asleep.

—

Steve flinches awake at the whisper of a sound outside. A younger Steve, one who'd known nothing about geeks, or people, really, how awful they can be, wouldn't have woken. Hell, Steve could've slept through a hurricane when he was in high school, all those years where he'd stayed up too late playing hooky and smoking Malboro's behind the Big Buy. He looks back now and wonders how much sleep he missed out on in his king-sized mattress, up to his eyeballs in cushy sheets and fresh linens. Why had sleeping felt like such a chore?

And after that, when he and Robin would stay up watching shitty movies and eating the free stale popcorn from the video store. Though he wouldn't trade any of that away.

Fucking idiot, he thinks to himself scathingly. He was not supposed to fall asleep. He checks you over quickly. In your sleep you've slid off of his chest and onto the tarp next to him, but you’re unharmed.

He sits up and scrambles for his penknife. Weak dusk light breaks through the store's shutters, dust motes disturbed by his movements diving between rays of light like lightning bugs. His joints click with the force and speed with which he springs up to protect you.

What sound was that? It had come as loud as a crack of thunder, but could've been something small, a squirrel over a tree branch.

He should wake you up. If it's one person, even two, you could help him. But if it's more, and they find you…

He shoulders open the door and walks out into the morning light.

—

You wake to hands on your shoulders.

You're scared instantly. Steve usually wakes you reluctantly, a shake and a whispered, "Up," or, "Up, baby," if he's especially tired.

"It's me," he says, his voice burning with something you haven't ever heard before. "It's me. Time to wake up."

You peel your eyes open, horrified at the sight above you. Steve face hovers over your own with his hair tucked behind his ears and a blazing smile, daylight behind him haloing him in gold.

"You didn't wake me." You bring clumsy hands to his rough cheeks. "Why didn't you wake me? You look so tired."

He looks electrified, the bags under his eyes no match for his smile. You can feel it as he leans down, as he plants a kiss firmly to your unsuspecting mouth. He kisses you all over, a joyous chuckle bubbling out between them.

You laugh yourself, tickled as his stubble scratches your cheeks, your neck as he works his way down.

"There's- There's people," he says. "My people. Fucking Robin-"

"What?"

You're a half inch from headbutting him unconscious. Luckily he's already veering upward, stuffing what you'd left on the ground back into your packs.

"I haven't seen her yet, but there's this other girl we went to school with, Darcy Mulligan, and she said this is an outpost, right? They keep all this shit here for people who need it, and then they watch to see if you're dangerous-"

"They were watching us?"

He plows onward, ignoring you, "And they saw us and I went out thinking they were gonna shoot me but-"

"Steve, we can't go with these people."

His smile fades a little. "No, we aren't. I told them already, we aren't that stupid. But," — he grabs your arm — "they said they're gonna bring Robin."

You don't want to keep fighting him. To shoot down this newfound hope, this lightness you've never seen him shine with before, feels cruel. But you don't want him to get ahead of himself.

"What if they're bringing back reinforcements?"

He swallows and nods, reassuring your conjectures. "Right, I thought that too, but- I don't know, baby, Darcy was with a guy, and they both had guns. They could've shot me. 'N' if they were empty, the guy could've just knocked me over the head with it, you know?" He crawls impossibly closer than he'd been, hands rubbing your arm unthinking. "I think this is real."

I want it to be real goes unsaid.

You're ashamed that you can't find any excitement to wear with him. Dread licks over your skin as you smile at him, as you cup his cheek in your hand, and as you stand up to help him pack away his things. You feel like you're going to your death.

Steve can read you well. He grabs your shoulders. You're selfishly hoping he'll say you can run. He doesn't. "You trust me?" he asks.

You deflate, shoulders falling. "Of course I do."

"Thank you." He tries to pull you in for a hug but you're reeling, distracted, he has to persuade you, and he does so sweetly. "Hey, c'mere, come on." He pulls at you. "Come here."

You flop into his chest with all the grace of a shored fish, arms limp. He smells like sweat which probably means you do too, but he smells like himself, and that's what's important.

"Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"What about you?"

"If Robin's here, I have to take the risk. She's my best friend."

You understand that. You'd never ask him not to do this, because you'd do it for him. If you'd ever gotten separated, you'd spend months looking for him. Years, maybe. He's the only person left.

You have no clue if he'd do the same for you.

He scrubs at your back roughly. Such a boyish kind of hug.

"You have your knife?" he asks.

You have it. Rather than let them corner you in here, you both make your way out into the woods. Steve shows you the short path he'd taken to find Darcy Mulligan and the man she'd been with, evidence of their stakeout left in the embers of a small fire. You stand frozen with a tree trunk to your back and Steve stations himself in front of you, pack secured on your back. Steve has his baseball bat in hand. What good will it serve against a possible group of gunmen? You start to panic, really panic, and you're a hair's width from begging him to run with you when his grip on the bat falters.

"Fuck," he says softly.

Three people turn the corner; a dark haired girl with twin pigtails and a rifle hanging at her side; a boy, presumably the man Steve had mentioned; and a shorter girl with light brown hair, her expression — her entire body — lit with happiness, elation, and her laugh loud enough to prove it.

"Holy shit," Steve says.

You forget to be scared. You forget to worry. Steve lets the baseball bat drop out of his hand, and then he's taking three weak steps forward to meet her, and that's it, it's her, Robin throws her arms around his neck and nearly barrels him to the ground. His hands come up to meet her. He's shaking so hard you're surprised he can grip her waist, his face crushed to the side of her head.

Tears well in your eyes. To get to see this, so soon, when you'd thought maybe Steve might never see his best friend ever again, is a blessing. It's a fucking miracle.

Your tears bite back when the boy moves forward and hugs him too.

You tighten your grip on your knife and pull it from your pocket, confused and alarmed that Steve's about to get gutted, but Steve starts to shake worse.

It takes you a second to realise he's crying.

"Henderson," he says.

Oh. It's Dustin. You've heard enough stories about him to know it. He has the same curly hair, and while he's taller than you'd thought, Steve had only ever talked about one Henderson.

Steve's relief is a knot in your throat. You wipe your cheek quickly with the back of your hand and shove the knife into your pocket.

Over their heads, the dark haired girl narrows her eyes at you.

"I can't believe you're here," Steve says, voice raspy with emotion.

You have never heard him cry.

"Where have you been, Steve?" Robin asks hoarsely.

You take a step toward him without thinking, and he hears it despite everything and looks up at you with a teary-eyed smile.

"We got lost," he says, holding your gaze.

"Lost? It's been months. We thought you were zombie mulch, you shithead."

"I'm here, aren't I?" He rolls his eyes at you, like he's saying Get a load of this guy?

It's a reassuring gesture even if he doesn't mean for it to be. You're still a team.

"Hi," Robin says, her hands clasped in Steve's shirt, but her attention fully yours. "I'm Robin."

You don't have a chance to introduce yourself. Steve does it for you, and he says, "She's my girl. Saved me this entire time."

What the fuck does that mean?

Robin looks at you again. "No fucking way."

"Only took an apocalypse for Steve to get a girlfriend," Dustin says.

There's something about their playful arguing that makes you want to cry again. It's the relief they've padded it with. You can imagine how brilliant it must feel to make fun of somebody you'd thought long dead.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Robin says gravely, "there are tons of dudes at camp. You have options."

Steve steps on her foot.

"We should head back," Darcy says shortly.

On the walk, Steve feels very far away. He keeps looking at you to check you're there, but his thoughts are months ago, recounting the details of your survival to his friends in short. You and Steve had been together since basically the very start when you'd saved him from a horde, and he tells that with pride. So much so you feel heat blooming behind your neck and at the tips of your ears.

"We fucking floored to to the meeting point but you guys weren't there-"

"Sorry-"

"No, it's okay," he says. "I get it. It was rough." All of you shiver at the memory. Hawkins had been hit hard, a close knit town with nowhere to hide.

"No we- we should’ve fucking waited- I begged them to wait," Robin says.

"Who did you get out with?"

And there's the list of survivors. It's short. The amount of orphaned kids is extremely depressing, and for a while there's silence. All those people. Dustin's mom, Robin's dad.

"Hopper's here, though," Dustin adds after a while.

"That explains why you're still alive."

"Actually, dickhead, we're alive because I'm awesome. The radio-"

"How many people are there?" Steve interrupts.

"It's a whole new world, Harrington."

It's better.

You turn onto what looks like an old college campus and suddenly, there's people. So many people you walk backward and almost tumblr off of the curb, because fuck. There's noise, and smells, and sounds. There are little kids running around in a closed off area of the quad, laughing and chasing after one another. There are guns on guards patrolling makeshift walls.

Your ears start ringing.

"Think your girlfriend's gonna pass out," Darcy says.

You're the last one to figure out she's talking about you.

"Oh, hey. Hey," Steve says, stepping toward you.

You take another step back.

"Baby," he says softly.

"There's people here."

"So many new boyfriend's to choose from," he jokes. He's tentative, but he offers his hand like he knows you'll take it. "Come on. I promise I won't get jealous when you run off with somebody cooler."

"I don't want somebody cooler," you say.

"Okay, awesome, 'cause I was lying. I'd be super jealous. I'd feed myself to the geeks."

"Don't say that."

He grins at you, hand hovering in the gap between your bodies unwavering. Trust me, it says. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.

You take Steve's hand.

—

The world is more than you and Steve against it. There are people to answer to.

Chief Hopper actually recognises you when he sees you. He recognises Steve first, and he gives him a pat on the back. You aren't expecting any hellos, figuring you're barely a memory to him, but Hopper smiles at you like you've just told him you have the antidote for zombification in your rucksack.

"It's good to see you, kid."

That night, in the dining hall, you get a small welcome between shift announcements. Hundreds of heads turn your way, and while some house cagey unsurety, the majority are happy to see you.

You sit with Steve and his friends (plural, a growing number, because nearly all of them are here), torn between stopping him from crying his eyes out with happy tears and listening to the older woman sitting beside you. Her name is Mallory, and she offers a generous gift.

"You have any questions at all, sweetpea, and you can come to me. Or if you just wanna talk, my shoulder's right here." She pats it for emphasis.

"Thank you so much." But, you want to say, I have Steve.

"Young love, and in a time like this." Mallory's smile is genuine, if a little haunted. "It's amazing."

You indulge her, turning from Steve just slightly. "But?"

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. It's three colours, a faded red at the middle, a mix of grey and brown at the top. "Listen, I have some unsolicited advice for you hon, but I'm not trying to offend you when you just got here."

You shake your head. "No," you say hurriedly, "of course not. I wouldn't think that."

She digs around in her pocket and opens her hand covertly under the table. When you look at it, she hisses. "No, don't. Keep your eyes up."

You right your gaze accordingly. The canteen is simply that — the college's canteen. Every night there's something cooking, and every morning if they can afford it. Although you'd been told some people eat at home, most people come here, because this is the only place with a reliable generator. From where you're sitting, you can see everybody, and you suspect Steve had chosen this vantage point on purpose.

Hopper stands at the front of the room behind another man, who's moved from the important stuff and is now lamenting at the book club's low attendance. They have a fucking book club. You can't believe it.

Mallory drops something into your hand. A hard-boiled candy.

"My advice," she says, the two of you watching as Hopper and the second man confer, "is to try and be in both worlds at once."

"You've lost me."

"That's not a good sign, I've barely started," she jokes, laughing so much that the men sitting across from you laugh too. She carries on, "What I mean is, this isn't home. It probably never will be. We fight so hard to make it home, we plant trees, 'n' we sleep warm every night, but…" She squeezes your shoulder amicably, a light, quick touch. "I know how it felt when I got here. Me and my husband, we kept to ourselves. And we were right to, not everybody here can be good. But when he died, I had nobody."

You let your eyes drop to you plate, a small portion of a soup that's not the best and a sandwich that's marginally better. You get what Mallory's trying to say — don't put your eggs all in one basket, not when the basket might get mauled to death any day coming.

You get what she's trying to say. You don't appreciate it.

"Thank you," you say weakly.

She nods, and Steve saves you from anymore conversation with an arm hooked through yours.

“You okay?” he asks. Unmistakably fond.

You can feel the eyes of all of his friends. All these people you knew too, or knew of, and should be happy to see. You should be so fucking happy right now.

So why aren’t you?

You turn your face to his and take him in. He’s got a red rash of skin over the top of his head from prolonged sunburn and a scar under his left eye from a cruel tree branch. He looks different than the Steve you’d met at school, and he looks different still from the Steve you’d saved on day 1.

But he’s your Steve.

You drop your forehead into his neck, love like a warm blanket encapsulating you when he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“I know,” he says, moving back, forcing you to sit up again. “It’s crazy.”

You return his smile, though you aren’t sure you're on the same page.

—

Little Hawkins makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry. It’s a floor of rooms in the campus dormitories, and Robin shares with a couple of other people your age. She only has a mattress and her things on the ground in one room, but soon Steve and another guy are dragging another mattress from across campus while you watch.

"No offence," Steve says, "but I'm trying to spoil you right now. Can you stop pouting? I'm giving you a breather."

"I don't believe you."

He and the unnamed man lean the mattress up outside of Robin's door.

"Well," he says warmly, and you're starting to feel lovesick with how sweet he's being, nearly enough to forget how scared you are, "maybe you should try."

Steve is nice. He's always been nice, ever since you met him, even if that nice was strapped down and buried under one layer of derision, one layer of sarcasm, and another layer of sternness for prosperity. But this is another level. Ever since he woke you up he's been ridiculous (he's been the kind of affectionate you've secretly ached for). Steve's sparing with affection but you wouldn't ever complain — can you expect him to play doting boyfriend when each day he's hardwired and on the fritz trying to make sure you both don't die agonising, gross deaths?

This is fucking crazy, though.

Steve pulls you bodily by the waist into his front and talks into the highest point of your cheek, words muffled by your skin, "When was the last time we slept on a mattress? Gotta be months ago," — you lean into him entirely, he takes your weight with zero qualms — "when we were in that house by the lake with all the soaps."

"So many soaps," you murmur, melted by his closeness.

He laughs. He giggles, all boyish and pretty and you can't help yourself, you lift your chin, practically begging for a kiss.

You get a short one. Steve's too busy laughing. "And the canned pickles. I know they were, like, doomsdayers, but what did we count, like-"

"Fifty seven-"

"Fifty seven jars of pickles," he finishes.

If this is what Steve is like here, you can make the trade. You don't trust anybody that isn't him, and it feels like you're surrounded by people who could easily hurt you, but his easy joy right now is contagious.

Robin's voice comes loud from inside her room. "Hey, lovebirds! Are you coming in? They turn all the lights off in like, twenty minutes."

It's obvious how much Steve trusts Robin. You get the mattress in her room through a series of squeezing and hoping, and she shows you her fancy little sink with running water, nothing short of pride in her eyes.

"It's freezing," she says, "but you can wash up."

It genuinely doesn't bother you that it's cold, emotionally. Physically you get the jitters, and it's worth it because Steve pities you and wraps you up tight to rub your arms. He and Robin talk a lot, so much that your brain has given up on listening. It's not something you're happy to hear anyhow, your perilous journey. Steve is generous on your account, leaving out all your most embarrassing moments.

You sit on the end of the mattress and wonder if you can take your shoes off.

"Robin?" you ask.

Both turn to look at you, surprised.

"Yeah?"

"Does the door lock?"

She brings her legs up to her chest, chin on her knees. "There's no deadbolt, but you need a key to open it from the outside. So kind of?" She watches you for a moment, and then she nods towards the desk covered in books. "I used to put the chair under the handle when I first got here. You can do that, if you're worried."

You nod uselessly and get up to do just that.

"Thanks, Robs," Steve says.

"Yep." She flops into a ball on her side and pulls the blankets up and over her face. "Goodnight, then."

Steve laughs and steps over your legs so he can get to her. "Robin," he says, pulling the blankets down. "I- I really missed you."

She holds out her arms and they hug. She pats his back. "Missed being a pain in my neck, maybe," she mutters. He pushes away from her in mock disgusts and they smile, a shared smile that douses you in an unfair jealousy. You shrug it off pretty quickly when he sits down on the mattress beside you, looking content and, shockingly, really tired.

He encourages you up to the top of the mattress beside him and folds up the blanket from the rucksack for you as a pillow, sliding it under your head. When he seems confident that you're comfortable he blows out the candle burning on Robin's desk.

This part's easy, you and Steve in the dark. You're practised in the art of moving around one another.

Your heart pounds in your ears as Steve pulls a heavy blanket over the both of you, his arm strewn across your stomach haphazardly.

"Are you okay?" he whispers.

You turn your face to his though you can't see it. "Of course I am. Are you okay?"

"I know this is weird."

Weird doesn't feel like the right word. Surreal, maybe. Something out of a dream.

"I think my back aches more on the mattress, I'm so used to twisting myself into knots between your legs."

He snorts. "That doesn't sound right."

You cover his arm with your hand. "Pig."

"You can lie on my chest, if you want."

"Think it's your turn to use me as cushioning." Your voice is coloured by your smile.

He exhales into your shoulder.

"Mm. This is nice," he murmurs.

"You want me to take the first shift?"

"I don't think we need shifts."

You can't agree. Steve trusts Robin and you trust Steve, but you do not trust Robin. She seems lovely, and through Steve's stories you know she's a good person, but he hasn't seen her in a year. She could be anybody, and she's locked into a room with you.

You don't mean to be deceitful. "Alright," you utter, "no shifts."

"You smell nice," Steve says. His lips move against your skin, and he lifts his head enough to kiss your jaw, three kisses in succession. "Goodnight, honey."

You raise your hand to his head. "Goodnight."

He falls asleep to you carding through his hair. Even when you're sure he's dead to the world you keep going, the feeling of it between your fingers calming.

You don't sleep a wink.

—

It becomes a mantra. Steve is happy here. Over and over and over.

You're happy too by consequence; Steve is a new person, still the man you know but with this emanating happiness rolling off of him in waves.

Chief Hopper has promised to get you and Steve a place together if you want one. This had scared you half to death, because you want one bad, but you'd been expecting a little resistance from Steve (or, admittedly, a lot). Because…

You're starting to think maybe you aren't scared of the people here. You trust Hopper to run a community that's safe if he says it is, and as the days stretch into a week, two weeks, you start to feel secure. Steve's never far, but that's the terrifying part.

You're worried Steve is going to leave you.

It sounds dramatic. It is dramatic. But you're scared shirtless that Steve is going to wake up and realise he doesn't owe you a thing, that he doesn't harbour the affection for you that he thinks he does. You're worried that Steve had gone soft on you because you'd been there, like a habit.

Your feelings for him only grow, despite this. He's fucking handsome when he's clean-shaven, clean in general. Somebody's mom gives him a haircut and you can't believe it, because he's always been good looking but you can tell he's more confident like this, and the confidence makes him golden.

He's also super handsy.

You love it, and you get it. You know you look prettier clean, even more so after somebody's mom gives you a haircut and you've managed to scrub the perma-dirt from under your nails. The want to kiss him is dialled up by a thousand because you always have clean teeth.

The nagging fear remains even when he's got a mouthful of your neck.

"Ouch," you moan, hands in his hair, legs spread enough to accommodate his figure between them, "s'like a geek, nibbling on me."

Steve bites a little harder.

You gasp at his show of force and push your head away from him. "Steve," you say with a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologises, pulling back. Elbows at your ribs, he holds his weight off of you though there's no reason to. "My teeth missed you."

"What the fuck."

"All of me missed you." He strokes the side of your face mildly. "I hate this."

You wiggle under him, mattress springs digging into your back. He doesn't bother explaining what he'd meant, only leans down to kiss your cheek, your chin, the tip of your nose.

You stare at him.

"What do you hate?"

He scrunches his nose up like it's obvious, and you're stupid for not knowing. "Us being on separate schedules. It's fucking shitty."

You don't have an answer for him. It seems more than lucky that he would assuage your worst feelings considering you haven't told him anything at all. You haven't told him about staying up at night to make sure Robin's not gonna kill him, or how worried you are that he's gonna realise he can leave you now you're safe, now you don't owe each other anything. You haven't told him how much you love him, and how much that would hurt.

Somehow, you get the impression that he knows anyway.

"This is really nice," you say eventually.

He rests his face against yours. You close your eyes.

"What's nice?" he asks. "Our separation? You're sick, babe. I'm trying to bare my heart here and you're stomping all over it."

"Not our separation, dummy. This. You lying on top of me. It feels really nice."

His small laugh warms your cheek. "I know. Why'd you think I let you climb all over me for months?"

"'Cause otherwise we'd freeze to death?"

He kisses a line down to the skin under your ear. "That, too. But mostly because it feels good."

You wrap your arms around him and press your nose to his hair, smelling him for your own self-indulgence. He lets his weight press down on you, shifting his arm so they're digging behind your shoulders.

You hook a leg behind his.

"Steve, I…"

"I love you."

You stiffen.

He hugs you that tiny bit tighter. "I love you," he says again. "I should've told you before, but I- I was so afraid that you'd-" He clears his throat quietly. "I was fucking terrified that I was going to let you down. You kept almost dying on me, and I kept realising I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

"I love you too," you say, shell-shocked.

He kisses your cheek slowly, softly, and then he lifts himself up so you're face to face.

"I love you," you say, because he'd said it twice.

His smile is gentle, eyes creased with a loving amusement. "I know." Steve steals back one of his arms so he can thumb under your eye. "I know you're not sleeping."

"Steve-"

"No, listen. I know you don't trust Robin-"

"I do-"

"You don't, and it's okay." He cups your cheek. "It's okay. You know, Hopper said it wouldn’t take long to find us a room. A couple more days and you won’t have to worry. And you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you say, voice softening to match his own.

He squeezes your cheek. “There’s a lot of stuff I should say to you and I’m kind of trying to hang onto my last shred of dignity here, but I mean it. More than I’ve ever- More than anyone. I love you.”

Your lips fall into a self-pitying pout. You won’t cry, though you feel like you could, because this is possibly the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. Steve loves you more than anyone, plain as day. He wouldn’t say that if he were going to swap you out for a new apocalypse girlfriend anytime soon, ‘cause Steve doesn’t mess with feelings. He’s earnest.

“Ever since we got here, I’ve been waiting for you to break up with me,” you say.

Which is funny in itself. You and Steve kissed each other every now and then for weeks before you had the conversation — it feels juvenile to think of boyfriends and girlfriends in life or death, and, paradoxically, it feels really important. The label means a lot to you. The ‘I love you’ means the world, even if he’s been showing it everyday since he met you.

He makes a sound that’s a combination of a scoff, a snort, and a pitying sigh. “You’re ridiculous,” he says.

You laugh so loudly it surprises you both. “I’m ridiculous? Get off of me, rich boy.”

Steve hunkers down. “What? No way. I live here now.”

“Seriously, Harrington, get off. I'm sick of you. Robin promised she’d find me a new boyfriend. Maybe I’ll get one with compassion.”

He laughs. He’s trying not to, and it comes out warm and soft to spite him. “Fine, let’s break up.”

“Fine.”

He tilts his head toward yours until your foreheads are touching, staring into your eyes. It takes a lot of willpower to hold in your laugh. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

You lift your chin and kiss him through giggles. “Yeah, okay. Options are pretty limited here, anyway.”

#stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve zombie!au #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington

2K notes · View notes