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youcancallmeelle · 1 month

Text

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted.

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own.

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars.

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it.

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back.

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman.

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this.

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late.

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house.

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie.

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes.

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise.

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen.

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye.

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash.

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease.

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say.

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation.

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose.

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of.

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath.

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in.

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious.

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone.

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.”

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you.

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement.

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes.

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you.

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck.

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed.

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra.

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move.

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track.

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin.

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside.

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them.

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back.

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive.

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture.

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some.

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?”

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves.

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches.

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice.

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you.

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong.

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.”

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls.

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.”

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you.

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.”

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.”

“No.”

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed.

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull.

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls.

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug.

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?”

“No.” You hum, shaking your head.

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?”

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh.

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares.

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again.

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly.

Silence and then…

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability.

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle.

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back.

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees.

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you.

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you.

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five.

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see.

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible.

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side.

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level.

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence.

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror.

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.”

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant.

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him.

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot.

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen.

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh.

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips.

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands.

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss.

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits.

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back.

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy.

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin.

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip.

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know.

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?”

“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with.

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated.

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft.

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle.

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him.

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure.

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress.

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes.

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin.

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so.

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction.

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share.

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close.

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you.

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall.

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you.

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder.

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family.

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius.

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island.

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce.

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either.

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat.

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long.

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!”

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair.

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble.

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch.

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.”

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you.

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.”

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam.

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves.

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back.

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour.

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts.

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze.

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty.

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there.

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him.

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard.

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate.

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist.

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness.

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync.

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix.

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting.

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.”

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.”

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought.

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery.

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts.

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire.

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon.

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe.

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing.

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured.

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.”

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body.

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks.

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones.

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?”

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer.

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.”

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him.

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees.

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What if we can’t fix this?”

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.”

“I love you.” You murmur.

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds.

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin.

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause.

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work.

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.”

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice.

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise.

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.”

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies.

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken.

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.”

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels.

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding.

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck.

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart.

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin.

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length.

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze.

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed.

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back.

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup.

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned.

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment.

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s.

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him.

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms.

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you.

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you.

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly.

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder.

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies.

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs.

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair.

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends.

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you.

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing.

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly.

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs.

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start.

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone.

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.”

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs.

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs.

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back.

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath.

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs.

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely.

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim.

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over.

You’re certain that everything will be okay.

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #the last of us fic #ellie & sarah #ellie & joel #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller

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eyelessfaces · 2 months

Text

just in case

poe dameron x reader

summary: while fiddling with bb–8's memory, you stumble onto an audio message– poe's prerecorded goodbyes.

based on @ivystoryweaver's headcanon on this post! thank you for allowing me to write something about it!

warnings: angst, mentions of death and war

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, poe being an absolute sap

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

He can’t help the fond smile growing over his face at the sight of you, deeply focused on the repair project in front of you before his knuckles hit against the doorframe a couple times, catching your attention.

Your gaze meets Poe’s as he steps into your workshop, your expression of concentration quickly giving way to an easy smile when you see him, closely followed by BB–8.

Poe greets you with a kiss, his hand lingering at your side when he pulls away.

“What’s bringing you here, handsome?” you ask, shifting to put away the tool you still have in hand. “Hey Beebs,” you smile as you glance down at the droid that greets you back.

Poe gazes down at his droid, his look shifting back at you. “Could you take a look at him whenever you got the time?” he asks, a small, defeated sigh escaping his mouth.

“What’s up?” you question, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It hadn’t been that long since you last checked up on the droid.

“I think there’s something up with his memory, he’s been acting a little forgetful lately” Poe explains; you can see the concern in his eyes, can hear the worry in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Poe nods, pinching his lips into a quiet smile as he looks down at the droid. “Hey, you don’t have to worry'' you reassure him, resting a hand over his arm. “It’s nothing too serious usually. Nothing I can’t fix.” He nods again, knowing he can trust you with this, knowing you're as good at this as he is at flying.

“I’ll take care of him as soon as I’m done with that” you point back to the mess of scavenged parts resting over your workbench.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’d stay with you and tell you about my day, but I have my last meeting of the day in about less than five minutes.” he shrugs, starting to walk backwards to exit the room.

“Sure, don’t worry.” you smile. “Come over when you’re done”

As promised, the minute you’re done repairing the project you were working on, you lower your workbench to BB-8’s level, letting him roll onto the surface before you adjust it to your level so you can examine him.

“Hey buddy. memory issues huh?” you coo, grabbing your tools, gathering everything you need to check up on him. He responds with upset beeps, his upper part sagging in defeat.

“That's okay. Happens to the best of us,” you reassure him, setting to work on diagnosing the problem. “So since it seems to be a memory issue, I’m gonna have to look through your data” you explain, opening his access panels.

It doesn’t take long for you to identify the issue: a few corrupted memory files. It’s a relief to see it's nothing severe, just a bit of corrupted data that needs to be cleaned and restructured. “Hah, found the problem,” you say, beginning the delicate process of correcting the corrupted files. “Looks like some of your memory files got a bit jumbled. Should be fine once we get that sorted out, there shouldn’t be any problem.” you explain. “You know, Poe always gets so worried about you.” you say, trying to keep the droid calm as your fingers work through the wires and circuits. BB–8 emits a series of grateful beeps, and you smile, focusing back on the task at hand.

As you work on fixing him, BB–8 chirps curiously, his dome turning to watch you. You explain each step in simple terms, trying to distract him and make it the least stressful possible for him. “I’m working through your memory module. Some of these files are corrupted, so I’m cleaning them up and re-organizing everything. Just like tidying up a messy room.”

BB-8 responds with a relieved series of beeps, and you chuckle. “Yeah, I know it’s not fun for you to have me mess with your memory stuff, but I’ll have you be back to your old self in no time.”

As you carefully rework BB–8’s memory files, you fumble slightly with a delicate wire, causing a brief short circuit – the droid jerks and beeps erratically before suddenly playing a vocal message. You reach to stop it, assuming it’s a manufactured error message you’ve triggered, but you freeze when you recognize Poe’s voice. “Hey baby,” Poe’s voice crackles through BB–8’s speakers, startling you. You frown, confused, ready to stop the audio message. “If you’re hearing this, it’s probably because something happened and I’m not around anymore.” Your heart properly skips a beat. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this,” he sighs softly. “Damn it’s weird talking like this when I’m still here,” he chuckles. You step back, driven by morbid curiosity, firmly intending to listen to the rest of it.

“But you know, with everything that’s been happening lately and that’s gonna happen, you never know what’s next.”

He sounds tired. You bite down onto your lip, a soft frown forming over your face and your gaze lost as the recording continues. “I could die in two weeks or in twenty years from the moment I’m recording this, so it’s pretty strange. I just… I love you so much. I wanted you to hear it from me one last time.”

Your lips curl into a weak smile, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s stupid. He’s still here. It’s just a recording in case he dies.

But somehow, you can’t help it. Not with the prospect that you could listen to it again one day, in the context it was intended to be listened to.

“You’ve always been supportive of my bullshit, no matter what, and you were always there for me no matter how stupid I got, so it’s only fair I thank you one last time. I really hope we got to enjoy our time together”

You pause the audio message, running your hand over your face, sighing deeply. You want to stop there and not listen to the entirety of it, on one hand because you aren't even supposed to hear it or know of its existence in the first place, and most of all because you’re not sure you can handle it – but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you let it go on.

“It’s stupid that I want to cry, because I’m still here” he chuckles. “You know, I’m recording this because I couldn’t sleep.” he declares. You can hear the soft strain in his voice, you can imagine him and his tired eyes, his hair slightly mussed from tossing and turning like he always does when he’s restless.

He sighs deeply before he speaks again. “I uh… Today’s mission went awful. I could have died and I didn’t even tell you” his voice drops with the weight of his words, he pauses for a second, and the knot inside your throat tightens.

“You’re sleeping in the next room. You know, you looked so peaceful when I got out of bed that I didn't want to bother you by kissing your forehead, but I did it anyway because I remembered I might not be able to do it forever”

You can’t help it, it’s over for you. Tears roll down your cheeks on their own, the back of your hand suppressing your sniffles and the soft laugh you huff out at his way of always saying things that will get you.

BB-8’s upper part shifts, and he emits a soft, sympathetic whirr, trying to console you.

“I’ve left this message with BB-8 because I know he’s always with you if he’s not with me. Take care of him for me, will you? And take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ll get through this. I love you. So much. More than you know. Which is why I’m gonna cut the recording and get back to bed to hold you tight while I can”

Your heart tightens inside your chest. You slowly shake your head, tears forced out of you when your eyes fall shut.

“Alright, okay, bye sweetheart. I love you.”

The recording cuts, ending with a click, leaving you in a stunned silence. BB turns to you, beeping sadly, and you give him a weak smile before wiping the tears over your cheeks with the tips of your fingers.

You huff out a heavy breath, one that you didn’t even realize was smothering your chest, and force yourself to finish taking care of BB–8 despite everything.

You’re still sobbing when Poe comes in again.

He finds you, full on tearing up, not even hiding it – which he finds strange, because you usually turn around and pretend to look for something to quickly dry your tears, and proceed to poorly try to deny you’ve been crying just to avoid worrying him.

And the context he’s facing quickly leads him to assume something is wrong with BB-8, something you couldn’t manage to fix and now blame yourself for – BB–8 is quick to deny with appalled beeps, so Poe really doesn’t have any idea what he’s dealing with.

When you pull him near and hug him tight, gripping his hair, longing to be as close to him as possible, he’s still as confused, but he’s swift to take action and hold you even tighter.

His embrace is warm, comforting, his touch delicate as his hand appeasingly rubs over your shoulder, and you progressively manage to calm down and quiet your sobs. “What’s going on babe” he quietly asks, trying to not pounce on you. His fingers carefully lift your chin up, taking care of clearing the tears from your face, his eyes searching yours intensely as he waits for your answer.

You sigh softly, your breath still ragged from sobbing. “I was working on Beebs and I found your…” you pause, realizing you’re not even sure what to call it. You're not even sure you want to say it out loud, to say it's a goodbye message. “I found your recording– I didn't mean to, it just–”

“Oh,” his face drops in saddened surprise, immediately understanding what you’re talking about. “Oh baby” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls you back into his arms. You weren't supposed to know about this, even less hear it fully, not until he died, that is. “I didn’t want to scare or worry you. I’m sorry you had to hear that– it was just… a precaution.” he murmurs as you cling to him, the remnants of your tears dampening his shirt.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice weak and muffled against his chest. “I just– It was hard to hear. I don’t want to think about losing you”

“I don’t want to think about leaving you either,” he says softly, pulling back just enough to look at your face again. His thumb brushes away the last of your tears when you look at him, his gaze over you filled with a mix of sorrow and unwavering love that you manage to feel just by looking into his dark, warm eyes. “But I need you to know how much you mean to me, no matter what happens”

“Poe,” you scoff-whine. “I know. You’re pretty transparent about it already” you grin.

When he’s not saying it explicitly, he always has a hand on you, always at least leaves a kiss over your cheek or forehead when he’s not full-on kissing you, and always makes sure to bring you back those jogan fruit cakes you like from Coruscant when he has to go there, and just the way he looks at you has you aware that he loves you, so he really doesn’t need to do that much, but he’s Poe Dameron, so it’s a prerogative.

“I happen to be a very romantic man” he jokes, smiling when he sees you chuckle and shake your head the way you do when he pulls stupid lines. “I just wanted you to hear it from me one last time sweetheart.”

“You and your dramatic flair” you tease lightly, gripping onto his jacket as you let out a soft groan. “You couldn’t just leave a normal message, could you?”

“You know, subtlety isn’t my strong suit” he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. It was meant for dramatic times, not when I was about to ask you if you wanted to get dinner off base like now.”

You snort up a laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You do owe me dinner after that.”

“I know, right?” he scoffs, an amused smile over his face. “And it means I get to spend more of my alive time with you, so–” he teases, his fingers gently rubbing your back. “Stop that, it’s not funny” you frown, playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “–Plenty of time to remind you that I love you” his hand squeezes yours gently.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both tender and intense, slow at first but deepening when the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love you feel for him step at the front of your mind. His hand moves from your hip to cup your face, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheeks rough from the tears.

When you break apart, your foreheads are still linked, his fingers gently tracing your face, your breaths mingling. “I’m joking about this, but I promise I’ll do my best for you to not have to listen to this recording again anytime soon.”

“Mh, hope ‘anytime soon’ means a few decades at least”

“I promise. I love you too much to leave you like this. And I know I’ll look sexy when my hair turns gray” he adds with a playful smile.

You laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension and bringing a sense of normalcy back. “Oh, definitely” you grin, raking your fingers through his curls. “Most handsome silver fox in the galaxy.”

Poe smiles, kissing you again, softly. You can very clearly feel BB–8’s presence when you pull away, his needy beeps attesting of his need for attention.

“Yeah, alright buddy” you sigh, turning back to the droid to finish up his repair.

“So he’s okay?” Poe asks, approaching the workbench.

“He’s all fine, good as new” you smile. “Hey, try running a diagnostic”

The droid runs his internal check, beeping happily once he’s done and everything seems to be alright.

“See?” you turn to Poe. “All good.” you grin at him, glad to have something concrete to smile about after that emotional rollercoaster you went through.

“Thank you, really. I knew you’d fix him up” Poe declares, smiling as he watches BB roll off the workbench and onto the floor, navigating around your feet. “And I was serious about that dinner, by the way,” he says, watching you putting away your tools and tidying up your workbench. “We could both use a break.”

“Yeah,” you agree, scoffing.

Poe’s hand finds yours as you turn the light off and leave the workshop, your fingers tangling as you walk through the corridors of the base, finding your way out.

“Hey,” Poe calls, pulling you closer as you walk. You hum, looking at him, noticing the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “You really think I’d look hot with gray hair?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Absolutely baby”

A content smile grows over his face, and he nods. “Cool.”

—

any and every comment/reblog is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @pigeonmama

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac

438 notes · View notes

feyascorner · 7 months

Text

9 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh, love.”

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink.

Has he always looked at you like this?

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. officially in act 2 so there's like a few weeks of a timeskip!!!! finally getting to that blurry line between hatred and...wtv they are

also praying the tags work this time

“Wake up,” you whisper. “Wake up, Astarion.”

His body shakes as you pull him closer to your chest, ignoring how cold his skin feels against yours. There’s nothing out here except the two of you and the blissful gaze of the moon glimmering against all the other stars in the sky. Here, it’s as if nothing else exists.

Yet, the nightmares continue to haunt him.

“Cazador, he’ll come for us. He’ll come for you. He’ll make me watch as you die and laugh at my agony before he tosses me into that damned prison again for another year. Maybe even more,” he rasps. “Gods, you were so–there was so much blood—your blood—and all I could smell was–”

You shush him, running your hand through white curls. The sensation seems to calm him just the slightest. “He’s not here. I’m alive, and so are you. See?”

Gently, you raise his palm to where your heart rests and wait patiently for him to come back to you again. He melts into the steady thumping of your heart, shoulders slowly relaxing. It takes some time, but eventually, his panting slows, and he slumps into your touch. When you pull him close again, he shakes his head.

“I’ll kill him for what he’s done to me and what he could do to you.”

You answer him by intertwining your fingers with his own. In response, he tightens his arms around your waist.

“I’m going to love watching him scream.”

Crashing onto the ground does little for your already trembling knees.

“Again.”

Weeks have passed since your last uncomfortable encounter with Astarion, and you’d much prefer to keep it that way. And while things have mostly smoothed over with your companions, the obvious issue of the spawn remains a concern, though the murders have decreased significantly in passing times. You’re grateful there aren’t as many bodies, but it also makes you wonder what’s preventing them from killing as many as they did. Fear it, even.

Lae’zel’s wooden sword wipes you off your feet again, and you land face-first into the grass. Embarrassment floods your cheeks despite there being nobody else in the park.

“You’ve gotten rusty, istik.”

Clambering onto your knees, you grip your own sword to stabilize yourself. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s gotten significantly better?”

“Flattery won’t save you on a battlefield, bard.”

“‘Was-bard,’” you correct her, using the sword to bounce back onto your heels. “And I think it’s saved us more than a few times. Remember that time I persuaded Yurgir to kill all his friends before we killed him?”

“A silver tongue has no use if the enemy is deaf,” she lunges at you, and you barely manage to stumble out of the way.

You hiss. “Why the hell would I be fighting a deaf enemy? And can you please warn me before you try to stab me?”

“There are no warnings in a real battle.”

“We’re not in real battle!”

She ignores you and lunges once more without warning.

You land on your ass again and again until you’re sure there’s a nasty bruise on half of your legs. There’s not enough time to register the soreness spreading to your knees, however, because by the time you’re up, she’s already coming at you again. It’s hopeless, you think, blocking another attack. Just as you’re about to give up and admit defeat, you see an opportunity in her stance. Seemingly laid back with how miserably you’re failing, you take it as a weakness and practically pounce at the opportunity to launch at her in return for your own bruises.

By some miracle, it lands.

She doesn’t fall as pathetically as you did, but she stumbles.

“Have you lost your touch, Lae’zel?”

You whip your head around to the voice where Shadowheart is under the shade of a tree, a letter gripped in her fingers. She paces closer to you and your opponent, raising a brow at the state you’re in. “Was it really necessary to beat them so harshly?”

“It worked, didn’t it? They managed to hit me,” Lae’zel scoffs, a hint of pride in her tone.

“Well, as wonderful of a time it is to watch you fight one another like beasts,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes, lifting the letter. “Tav and I need to get new clothes tailored, it seems.”

Lae’zel snatches the letter before you can take a look, her eyes scanning over the words before shooting to you. “A celebration?”

“A ball, more like,” the cleric steals the sheet right back, handing it to you. “In our honor, of course, for defeating the elder brain. About time we received something in return.”

You only briefly glance at the words printed on the letter. “This is too much.”

Both heads turn to you inquisitively. “I thought you’d be ecstatic for something like this. I recall you always used to sing about the songs people would make about your adventures.”

“That was ages ago,” you sigh, but Lae’zel doesn’t seem much happier either.

“They choose to celebrate while the city’s citizens are being picked off like prey by spawn? No wonder its inhabitants have turned out so puny,” she glances at you while she speaks. You contemplate rolling your eyes, though you’d rather not get knocked on your ass again.

“You and Gale can go tomorrow. I made reservations at the tailor for all of us, but Figaro says he can only take two a day,” Shadowheart tells Lae’zel. “You wouldn’t mind if I took your punching bag for a few hours, would you?”

“Tchk. I have the wizard as another target if need be.”

She tosses her braid over her shoulder as she nods. “Great. Let’s hurry then.”

They don’t give you much room to protest in the matter, already having made up their minds—not that you were going to object in the first place. You’re honored, really, that the city finds you impressive enough to throw a celebration in your honor, and you know your companions are more than deserving of it, too. But it’s as Lae’zel said.

There’s another battle brewing under the city, in its shadows, and in plain sight, yet you can’t do anything about it. It’s not like the elder brain. Killing the brain itself was enough to rid of the mind flayers, but in this case, killing one spawn only leads to hunting 7000 more. Most of which are being lied to by Astarion’s siblings.

You shake your head to rid of the thoughts. No. You deserve this. You went through hell and back with that bloody parasite in your head, so hells be damned if you can have one bloody night to yourself. One that doesn’t consist of consistently worrying about whether another body will drop dead while you sleep blissfully in the walls of your own home. You need this after all you’ve been through.

Still…

The silence as you walk alongside Shadowheart makes you cringe.

It’s not like she’s angry at you, nor are you at her. You understand her reactions toward Astarion, and you like to think that she does too. But with how things ended with him last time, your interactions with the cleric have grown increasingly curt, with short conversations baring down to the bare necessities. You’ve tried to speak with her, but each time the two of you are alone, the guilt gnaws away at your stomach—your confidence along with it.

This time, you swear. This time you’ll apologize.

“Shadowhea-”

“I shouldn’t have done it.”

You blink. Twice.

She doesn’t look at you, continuing to stride through the city streets. “It was unfair of me to blow up at you for letting Astarion feed. It wasn’t my choice, and I know that. I was only…”

You wait for her to continue, increasing the speed of your footsteps to catch up.

“...It was a selfish reason,” she mutters. “I did not want to lose you to him again. I’ve seen you the last time he hurt you, and you were practically a stranger to all of us. Even with defeating the elder brain, you didn’t seem happy in the slightest. He ruined so much that I—-I instinctively tried to make a decision that I have no control over.”

“It won’t happen again. Lying, I mean,” you blurt immediately. “I’ve learned, as hard as it might be to believe. I don’t want to drift from you again, either. I’m just sorry it took so long to bring this up.”

“I’m in no place to complain. It took weeks for me to understand how in the hells your thought process seems to work…And how you manage to make such bad decisions that somehow have a knack for working out,” she purses her lips. “I still don’t understand. Not completely. But I do also trust you know what you’re doing.”

You don’t know what you’re doing, but you think it’s better to avoid telling her that.

She smiles, and you already feel lighter. “It’s a miracle I’m alive, to be honest.”

“It really is. Trust me, I’d know,” she snorts in return.

“I do have quite the skilled healer at my side, which helps.”

Shadowheart stops in front of Figaro’s store, glancing back at you. You hadn’t even realized the two of you had walked this far, but she shrugs with a smug grin as she pushes through the door.

“Whatever would you do without me?”

You’ve searched the Blushing Mermaid at least a dozen times over now, in case you missed any of Dalyria’s things that might aid you in your search for the other siblings. Despite the tavern owners blocking the entrance, a simple mage hand or two was enough to pry open the wooden boards nailed to the basement door. It’s been nearly three times now that you’ve come up empty-handed, but what harm could a fourth try do? Sure, you’ve scrummaged her desk seven times alone, but perhaps you might have missed a drawer or two…

The stillness of the night is disturbed as you lift the hatch leading to the basement, waving away the dust that flies into your face. You pocket Dalyria’s journal and begin your descent downward. The humidity hits your cheeks, and you sigh, swallowing your distaste for the crumbling lair to resume your investigation without any distractions. You expect another endless night of useless rummaging through the Hag’s old things and some of Dalyria’s own belongings, but doing nothing would weigh too heavily on your conscious.

Just as you enter the actual lair, you find that you are not alone.

A blond man stands on the other side, his back turned to you as he searches the desk you’ve already looked over multiple times.

Petras.

Sure, you’ve been searching for him for quite a while now, but for him to just waltz into you like this? You’re not sure if you’re insanely lucky or simply unlucky for not having stumbled into him until now. He remains unaware of your presence, and you take the opportunity to reach for your knife, willing your footsteps to feel lighter to avoid detection. Another skill a certain rogue taught you at a certain point, but never mind that.

The floorboard creaks under your weight.

Dammit. You’ve never been as good as he was.

He whips around, immediately on the defense. But as soon as he spots you, his shoulder relaxes, a scowl falling as he blinks. “Oh. You.”

Embarrassment burns in your cheeks, feeling like a child who’s been caught stealing an extra sweet from the cookie jar. Still, you straighten your back, shifting so he can’t see the knife clenched in your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering when I’d see Astarion’s pet again,” he ignores your question, stepping away from the desk toward you. It makes your body tense. “You’ve been up to quite a lot since the last time we spoke, haven’t you? I hear you nearly captured my sister.”

“I’m not his pet,” you snap, more harshly than you intended. He raises a brow.

“Fine. His blood bank.”

Your sharp glare is enough to send him your sentiments.

“Not a very willing blood bank, I see.”

“What are you doing here, Petras?” you finally snap.

He ignores you again, and this time, you contemplate chucking the knife at his head. “How’s my brother doing? Horrible, I hope.”

“He’s fine,” you retort through gritted teeth. It’s the nicest thing you can conjure up at the moment. “We would be doing better if you weren’t making a bloodbath of the city.”

“You nearly killed my sister as well.”

“Your sister is the one that attacked us after she said she was going to kidnap Astarion like he’s some sort of object. What was I supposed to do?”

“Well, I can’t blame you. She’s always been stubborn,” he shrugs. “But I am disappointed you chose to take my brother’s side after all he’s done to you. I would pity you, really, if you hadn’t gone and killed almost four of us already.”

“You can’t blame me for self-defense.”

Petras frowns. “Tell me, why didn’t you take our deal?”

“What?”

He paces a few steps toward you, standing at the platform of the lair while you stare up at him in bewilderment. “We’ve been watching you for an extended period of time now. We offered you everything you could possibly gain from a deal like this one, and you still rejected it. You’d get rid of us and keep the city safe. All the while, you’d never have to see my brother again. Dalyria says it barely seemed to phase you. I want to know why.”

“It’s—” you trip over your own tongue. You don’t even know why you feel obligated to answer him. “It just felt right at the time.”

“What kind of half-baked answer is that?”

“I answered your question, didn't I? Now answer mine.”

Petras furrows his brows, glancing at Dalyria’s desk behind him. “I take it you know what we plan to do?”

You purse your lips, and it’s enough of an answer for him.

“I wanted to take Astarion by force, personally. But Leon and Dalyria…they’ve grown considerably soft after Cazador left,” he rolls his eyes at the thought, crossing his arms. “...A shame. That kind of fragility won’t get them anywhere in this world. Those fools are destined to die or to live at the bottom of the barrel, forever feeding on city rats.”

The way he speaks of his siblings makes your stomach churn.

“You’re a bigger fool if you think I’m going to let you go through with the ascension,” you hiss. “You’ll kill all those spawns. They’ve put their trust in you to lead them, and you’re lying straight to their faces as if their lives aren’t worth the crap on your shoes–”

“And how did things turn out the last time you tried to stop the ascension?”

This makes your throat go dry.

“Take this as our last warning, bard. Or else we’ll come and take him ourselves.”

“He’s your brother,” you blurt in exasperation, waving your hand in disbelief. “You can’t possibly want to kill him, even if he’s an asshole from time to time! Cazador is gone. You’re free! There’s nothing else to run away from!”

You don’t know why you’re defending him.

But it pours out of your chest, and you already know trying to choke it back up won’t reverse what’s already been said.

With your words seemingly going in one ear and out the other, Petras clenches his fist at his side and glowers down at you with a sharp inhale. Despite his attempts to appear composed, you can see the vein bulging from his forehead, threatening to burst if you push him any longer. “He stopped being my brother the second he tried to ascend.”

“Still—”

“He attempted to kill the rest of us for the sake of his own wellbeing. What makes him any different than Cazador himself?” he argues. “Cazador always took a special interest in Astarion. I see now that it’s because they’re so similar. In life or in death.”

For some strange reason, this makes your blood burn.

You can hear Astarion’s gasps as his master’s nightmarish toll awoke you both on those starry nights when the parasite still swam in your heads. How cold he’d felt in your arms, rasping into your chest as you calmed him. White curls brushed against your hand as you pulled him close. You’ve never wished to the gods for much, but in that moment, you begged them to let him forget. To give you something—anything—to soothe the trembling of his hands.

Astarion could have been like Cazador. He’d come dangerously close to becoming the very monster that tortured him for centuries, but he hadn’t. Whether it was voluntary or not, it doesn’t matter because, at the end of the day, he isn’t Cazador. And you plan to keep it that way as long as your fingers can still clutch your blade.

“I was planning on paying you a visit,” Petras says, catching your attention once more as he slips out a scroll from his sleeve. “Though I suppose you’ve made this easier on the both of us…especially if you die here.”

You take a step toward him, heels digging into the ground. “If you think I’ll just—”

“If you’ll only get in my way, then I have no problem with watching you perish.”

With a shout, the scroll glows a lime green, and a long groan echoes from the bodies scattered throughout the room.

Shit.

The spawn adjusts his hood back around his head, sparing you a pitiful stare. “You’ve chosen your side, and it's the one that's destined to lose. Good luck, bard…I hope your death isn’t as painful as it could have been at Astarion’s hands.”

And just as the undead begins to crawl toward you with an agonizing screech, he puffs up into a cloud of red smoke and vanishes.

You need a bath. Terribly.

Barely scraping out with your life, you can’t say you’re a pleasing person to look at with the dirt and blood smeared across your body. The sleeve of your shirt is torn open, and while a few healing potions have done the trick to heal most of your injuries, the more minor splits and cuts remain an insistent reminder of the war you’ve just declared with the vampire spawns.

Well, they’re the ones who declared it, but the point stands.

You manage to wash out a lot of the blood by the time you return home, praying your disheveled state can’t be seen with the effort you’ve put in to look presentable. Your worries are put to rest, however, when you realize just how late it’s gotten into the night, as all your companions remain blissfully asleep as you limp into the house, barely able to stand upright.

Everything is a blur. How you managed to fight off a dozen undead is a mystery to you, but it’s not unwelcome. At least there’s nobody here to scold you.

But even that, you realize, is a false sense of security when you sense him from the stairs. You’ve learned not to anticipate any creak in the floorboard when he’s the one pacing on them. Rather, you’ve learned to expect a concerning bloodthirsty presence and two eyes boring into the back of your head as if you’ve grown another head. It eventually becomes easy to sense his aura even from across the living room.

You hope the darkness conceals the bruises on your body. “What do you want?”

“You’re bleeding again,” he says, and it’s not a question. “I could smell it from upstairs.”

A scoff. “What are you? A dog?”

Astarion doesn’t bother responding to your snide comment, coming closer. You can finally see his expression in a daze as he approaches your vicinity. He’s present, but not really, as his focus shifts from you to your hand to your face again repeatedly as if he’s unsure what he’s even doing here.

You’d recognize his mannerisms anywhere.

“Are you drunk?”

“I recall you saying you were visiting the tavern.”

“I was at the tavern.”

He barks a laugh. “My dear, you can tell as many pretty lies to the others but not to me. I can see right through your little game like an open book.”

Curse him.

“I asked you a question first,” you opt to change the subject, remaining firm. “How much did you drink?”

“I didn’t break any rules, as far as I’m aware,” his words slur messily as he leans against the wall, a pink hue spread across his cheeks. “I just drank…a tiny bit more than usual.”

He’s most undoubtedly tipsy, at the very least.

Astarion pushes himself off the wall and toward you, where he squints down at you with what you assume to be some variation of curiosity. His eyes do not hold the usual hostility they usually do, somewhat clouded in a mist of relaxation that’s dangerously close to overflowing. You inch backward.

“Your turn,” he breathes. “Why are you bleeding?”

While you were out risking your life, the bastard must’ve been having the time of his life if the unsteadiness of his steps is any indication. You bite the inside of your cheek bitterly.

“I met Petras just now…more like ambushed, actually,” you respond, pacing the kitchen to wipe off the dirt staining your elbows. You pour yourself a glass of water, but the second it touches your lips, you flinch, the split on your lip still too new to be challenged. So, instead, you set the glass down, eyeing the way he mindlessly stares at you without a thought running through his mind.

Still, he’s giddier than usual, snorting at the state you’re in. “You couldn’t have possibly lost to my brother. He has muscle but barely any wit.”

You remain silent, and his smile grows wider. “Oh! You really let the bastard get away. Well, isn’t this a surprise! Excuse my error; perhaps you aren’t as invincible as I pegged you to be.”

“He caught me off guard.” Hot discomfort courses through your veins.

“Pish posh,” he waves you off, teetering in your direction. “It’s no good if you refuse to admit defeat, my dear. It’ll come back to bite you in the behind later.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes, unmoving from your spot beside the counter as he scrummages around the cabinets for nothing other than the very substance that’s reduced him to this pitiful state. Ironic, you know, considering the tavern had practically been your home only a few months prior. “How did you even get drunk? There isn’t nearly enough blood here for that.”

His face brightens when he finds what he’s been searching for. He uncorks the glass bottle and inhales the stench of blood. While it makes you scrunch your nose, he sighs dreamily, shoulder going slack. “Gale accompanied my hunt again, and I managed to find not one but two bloody bears. One of which was oh so gratefully already wounded. You can be smart when you want to be; I’m sure you can imagine the rest.”

You don’t want to imagine it, actually.

“I think you’ve had enough,” you pluck the bottle from his hands, and his expression immediately falls. He almost looks like a kicked puppy. It makes your chest swell with pride.

“Why? Would you rather I drink from you?” he tries to reach for it, but you step out of the way. “As enticing as that sounds, I’ve already had my fill of exotic blood for tonight. All I need is the dessert to top off the feast I’ve had, and I’ll be satiated for at least a few days.”

You glare at him. “You’re already drunk, you don’t need anymore.”

“But I want more,” he slurs again, and you attempt to move the bottle behind your back, but his hand is already expecting this maneuver. With embarrassing ease, the bottle slips into his grasp, and he takes a long sip of blood while forgetting how you remain caged against the counter, arms blocking any sort of exit you can take to slip away.

You can count his eyelashes from this distance.

He lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, and much to your relief, you manage to escape the suffocating feeling of being surrounded by him. His scent, his voice, just everything. You close your fists, itching to retreat into the comforts of your own bedroom rather than continue to watch his focus zone in and out until narrowing down on you. “Are you done?”

“Mm, it’s sweet, but not sweet enough. It’s not quite a dessert, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t even like sweet things,” you scoff. You don’t know why you remember this. You shouldn’t remember this. It’s not even your concern anymore.

He stares at you. “I make exceptions.”

Unwillingly to figure out the implications of his words (and whether or not it comes off as a threat), you run a hand through your hair and sigh. “Petras seems hell-bent on kidnapping you.”

“Let him try. The poor fool wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us, much less all of us simultaneously. At least it’ll make for quite a show.”

“And let him kill more people in the process?”

Astarion tilts his head, albeit only slightly. He lacks the usual polish of his charm. “Ah, we couldn’t dare allow a few unlucky souls to perish. It’s not like the inevitable fate of death is waiting for them anyway.”

Sarcasm dripping from his tongue, you decide he’s not nearly sober enough to talk about this. He’s barely keeping himself upright with his arms perched on either side of the counter. He’s close enough that the scent of blood muddles all of your other senses. The softness in his eyes makes you squirm, and the small voice in your head that is your intuition screams for you to get away before…well, you’re not sure what, but it’s what it’s telling you.

“Go to bed,” you order him, though it sounds more like a plea. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“The night’s only begun, though.”

The answer spews out immediately. “I miss to see where that’s my problem.”

Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh to me, love.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the nickname catches you off guard. It’s one he hasn’t called you since…everything. One that you’ve learned to bury into whatever corner you can find in your memories, hoping never to see them again. For a split moment, you can feel your resolve falter. Still, you refuse to show him what a simple word does to you and steel your will to leave this for a proper time when you’re both not nearly delirious. One from blood and the other from a battle.

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink.

Has he always looked at you like this?

He’s not just drunk, you reason. He’s completely wasted.

“Astarion,” you lean away. “You’re drunk.”

He ignores your warnings with a click of his tongue. “My mind is clearer than it's ever been after I got that damn parasite out of my head.”

His delirious expression says otherwise.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh irritably. “Whatever game you’re playing, I want none of it. I’m tired, so just leave me be, will you? Get out of my way.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“You’re the one blocking me from leaving!” you fume, pointing at his arm.

“That’s not what I mean. You’re…” he sighs, dropping his head wearily. “…you’re no different than that parasite, come to think of it.”

Appalled, you just gawk at him, jaw agape. “Please tell me I did not just hear you say that.”

He laughs, throwing his head back as he straightens his back. His arms fall back to his side, providing you just enough space to squeeze out of the way, but you find yourself staring up at him as he recollects himself. “It’s rather frustrating. I suppose, at the very least, unlike that worm, you’re a pretty thing to look at.”

What in the hells is going on?

First, he calls you a parasite and then proceeds to flatter you barely two seconds later, having nothing but hazy blurs in that thick skull of his. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to kill you again next. In fact, you think it’s probably best to retreat now when you can—even if he’s gazing down at you as if he expects an answer to his previous statement.

You should leave.

Your legs remain rooted in place.

You should definitely leave.

“Call me that again, and I’ll install bars on your windows,” you grumble, only half meaning it. Mainly because it would be a hassle to build. “Just go, Astarion. I don’t want to speak with you.”

“Convince me.”

You quirk a brow. “What?”

“Convince me that you don’t want me here,” he says firmly. “Then I’ll leave.”

Gods, has he lost it?

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not? I may deceive you, but I always take you seriously. You must know this.”

Barely stopping yourself from punching that smug smile off his face, your brows furrow. And with gritted teeth, you hiss. “Well, for one, you stink of blood.”

“What a pleasant fragrance indeed.”

“Two,” you continue. “You’re barely standing on both feet, which tells me you aren’t in any position to discuss what I want to right now—which, by the way, is your own damn brother.”

He hums.

“Three, you’re an asshole.”

“Very convincing, darling.”

“So I’ve heard,” you snap, rolling your eyes. “Do I need to say more?”

Astarion steps closer, making your shoulders tense. “Tell me more about how I’m an asshole.”

The blood he drank must contain some sort of drug, surely.

“You leave bottles all over the living room,” you begin, and slowly, the words begin to spill out as if they’ve been waiting to be thrown at him for a while now. “You don’t help clean at all. You make jokes only you find funny. You fight with Shadowheart all the time, and it makes everyone uncomfortable. You walk around at three in the morning and scare the crap out of me just because I wanted some water.”

He nods. “Go on.”

“You’re always sneaking out, even though we tell you not to. You don’t even tell us where you’re going and then get surprised when Lae’zel wants to execute you again! You come home at bizarre times, and the hallway smells like blood all the time, and—and—-” You’re rambling now, you realize, but you’re too exhausted to give a rat’s ass about it. So instead, you push a finger into his chest pointedly, scowling. “---you’re just not pleasant to be around. You’re the biggest asshole I’ve met, and trust me when I’ve met a lot of assholes. I’d rather all of them than you.”

Astarion’s lashes flutter as his gaze flits across your face. “Is that so?”

With narrowed eyes, your fists tighten. “Hells, I don’t even know why I’m here with you because I should’ve been at the tavern sleeping with some other random bastard by now if your damn brother didn’t-”

Suddenly, the breath in your lungs is knocked out as the back of your hips bumps against the counter, knocking over your glass of water.

Before you can discern whatever emotions are being evoked by his lack of awareness, the already minimal distance between the two of you closes as he smashes his lips against yours. It’s harsh. Fueled by hatred, it’s by no means a pleasant show of affection. It burns, sending sparks throughout your entire body as you sink into his touch, feeling the full force of the smallest of movements; he seems dangerously close to what you might describe as desperate.

Unable to fully process what’s happening, you only stand there, stock still.

Your eyes might fall out of its sockets with how wide they are.

He’s kissing you.

Astarion is kissing you.

And instinctively, your body, if for a split moment, kisses back.

What. The. Fuck.

Thankfully, you’re quick to realize what’s happening, and you abruptly shove him away, stumbling in the process. It seems he’s sobered up on his end because he appears just as shocked as you are, the blood staining his pretty lips being the only proof that the kiss did indeed happen. He blinks rapidly, first trying to take in your expression. You don’t think you’ve seen him this lost in ages. But that's not your concern right now.

He starts. “Darling, I–”

Your fist punches into his stomach, and he reels.

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papipedroo · 10 months

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Traitor (Joel Miller x Reader)

Part Four of Whiskey Tears

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

You found yourself sitting at Maria and Tommy’s kitchen table the next morning. Your shirt pulled up as Maria looked at the bruise forming on your side. You were grateful to them letting you stay in their guest room last night and most certainly for the next couple of days.

“So explain to me again how you got a giant sized bruise on your side.” Maria asked as she assessed the damage that had been done.

Your gaze fluttered to your hands as if I was being asked by my own mom, “I tried to kill Heather.” I mumbled.

Maria looked up from the wound, “You tried to kill Heather.” She repeated, “But why?”

“She threatened Ellie and so I tried to kill her.” You didn’t think it was that bad.

Maria sighed, “Sweetheart. That’s not how we deal with issues here.”

“I’m sorry…” You frowned apologetically, “Not for trying to kill her, but not being civilized about it.”

“Well that’s a start I guess.” Maria placed an ice pack on your bruise, “Thankfully nothing is broken. Did she do this to you?”

“No.” Your throat tightened as you answered, “Joel did.”

“He what?” Maria’s eyes widened, “He did this to you?”

“Joel did what?” Tommy stepped in the kitchen. He made his way to the fruit bowl, grabbing an apple.

“He… He pulled me off of her. I don’t think he meant to hurt me. I just…” Your sigh felt like a heaviness settling on your chest, “He didn’t realized his strength when he shoved me.” At least you hoped he didn’t…

“I’m going to kill him.” Maria seethed as he hand tightened into a fist.

You raised an eyebrow at her, “I’m sorry you can kill Joel, but I can’t kill Heather? Where is the democracy in that?”

“Oh hush.” Maria wanted to nudge you like she usually did, but held back given your current state, “I just don’t understand why he’s being this way.”

The two of you were both talking that you didn’t see Tommy leave, only when you heard the door slam did the both of you go silent.

“You don’t think he’s going over there do you?” Your voice trailed off as your mind ran through all of the possibilities that could happen between the two brothers.

Maria shook her head, “They’re Millers. A punch, a couple of words, and then they’re good. It’s what they do. Maybe Tommy can knock some sense into his brother.”

“She said something to him… Don’t abandon me.” You muttered as you mulled over the events of last night, “It looked like those words really got to him and I just have this unwarranted feeling that she’s manipulating him. Like she’s tightening her grip around what he cares about most which is saving the people he can save.”

“But why would she manipulate him?” Maria’s brows furrowed, “For what reason?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head before looking at her, “But I refuse to let her tear apart my family. You should have seen her last night Maria. She knew what to say to get under my skin and it worked. Joel took her side.” You looked out the window to see the sun rising slowly, “Again…”

“I’m telling Mikel that you can’t go on patrol today.” Maria muttered as she cleaned up the table.

You gave her a stubborn look, “But it’s my turn to go on patrol, I’m not going to let this keep me from my job. I need to protect this place too.”

“What? You can’t go like this.” Maria countered with a look that only a mother could give.

You gave her a smile as you placed the wrapped ice on the table.

“I’ve traveled the road far worse than this. I can do it, trust me.” You stood up, ignoring the dull ache.

You were grateful that it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You were also grateful for the chance to be out of Joel’s sight today.

“See you! Oh and tell Ellie for me that we are having a snowball fight as soon as I get back.” I waved at her goodbye before greeting the chilled morning weather.

It was warmer than yesterday, that was for sure… You thought as you made your way to the stables to meet Mikel.

“I wonder if Ellie is going to wear her jacket today.” You muttered with a motherly tone, “She better be.”

The morning light greeted the home, but it felt anything but comforting. Not with one person of the family missing.

“Miller.” Ellie greeted her dad as she sipped on her orange juice.

It was the orange juice that her mom spent the other day making. It made all the more reason for Ellie to glare at the old man who looked like he hadn’t slept at all last night.

“You callin me Miller now?” Joel huffed as he grabbed himself a coffee mug.

“Yep. Because until my mom comes back, you Miller are nothing, but a stranger to me.” Ellie huffed.

Joel gave her his famous unimpressed look before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He tried to think of the best way to explain what happened last night. How he reached the top of the stairs and found his firefly trying to kill someone in their home. How he just didn’t want anyone else to die. How he couldn’t understand why she hated Heather so much… Before he could say anything to Ellie, there was a banging at his door.

“Joel!” His brother’s voice carried through the wooden door, “You better get your ass out here right now before I kick this door in!”

“Jesus.” Joel shook and set his coffee down.

Of course he couldn’t have a quiet morning to think about how he would apologize to his firefly and talk about what happened.

His boots thudded against the floor as he made his way to the front door. Another bang from Tommy made his jaw clench.

“What is so important—” He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before Tommy was swinging at him. Joel’s eyes widened as he leaned out of the way and grabbed onto his brother’s wrist.

“Jesus Tommy, what the fuck?” Joel grumbled in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot Joel.” Tommy huffed as he yanked his arm to free his wrist, but to no avail.

“I conquer.” Ellie spoke from the kitchen entrance, her orange juice in hand. M

Joel rolled his eyes as he let go of Tommy’s wrist before he turned his attention towards Ellie. He nodded his head towards the direction of the stairs, “Go get ready.”

She groaned, but listened to him nonetheless as she clambered up the stairs.

“You hurt her.” Tommy stated, his tone was more even after his short burst of anger.

Joel gave him a look that soon turned into defeat as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

“I know I shouldn’t have kicked her out, but they were going to kill each other Tom. I wasn’t exactly thinkin clearly at that moment.” Joel explained.

“No.” Tommy shook his head as he shoved his brother’s shoulder, “You. Hurt. Her.”

“What do you mean?” Joel pressed.

Tommy continued as the weight of his words settled in to Joel’s heart, “I walked down the stairs this morning to find my wife tending to your girl with a massive bruise on her side.”

Now it was Joel’s turn to look guilty as he finally realized what he had done. Accident or not he hurt her… Joel looked at Tommy with worry, “A bruise?”

“She said you shoved her.” Tommy elaborated.

His words held a darker tone, one that Joel rarely saw in his brother except for the time back in the day when Tommy would call wasted from a jail cell. This was different though because it wasn’t Tommy bashing someone’s head against a bar… No… This was Joel’s fault and Joel would get eaten by a clicker before he would deny that.

The pieces came back together quickly. Joel vaguely remembered last night, but he knew that he pulled her off of Heather to try to break up their fight. He just didn’t realize how much strength he had used.

“Shit.” Joel seethed.

“Yeah.” Tommy agreed, “Just you wait until you see Maria. She’s pissed at you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her Tommy. I would never… I didn’t mean to.” Joel ran a hand through his hair again, this time with anxiety and guilt rushing through him, “Is she okay?”

“It’s a big bruise.” Tommy’s gaze softened at his brother’s distraught state, “But there’s nothing broken. She’ll be fine in a few days.”

Joel nodded before immediately reaching for his winter jacket and shrugged it on, “I need to talk to her.”

“Can’t.” Tommy stated simply.

Joel turned to his brother with furrowed brows, “What do ya mean I can’t?” He muttered.

“It’s her route today and knowing that girl she convinced Maria that she could go.” Tommy looked up at the where the sun was, “You can try, but I’m not sure they’ll be there.” Tommy explained, his arms crossed as he watched the way his brother’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ll take my chances.” Joel grabbed his coat and rushed out the door.

“If she ain’t there then can grovel to her when she gets back.” Tommy proposed, “Hopefully then she’ll be less likely to stab you.” Tommy joked as he turned and walked down the steps.

Joel carried on walking when he heard his brother call out to him.

“Word of advice brother. Get your shit together and kick Heather out before you loose your firefly for good. There’s no use in protecting someone else when you end up loosing someone you care more about.”

“Where is he going?” Heather made her way out of the door.

“To get his girl back.” Tommy looked to Heather, “Look I don’t know the full extent of what’s going on, but I heard enough to know that you should stay out of their business.”

“He is my business.” She said defiantly.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, “No. He’s her business. They’ve been together a lot longer than you’ve been stayin here.”

“Tell me.” She looked Tommy in the eyes, her voice still as sweet as ever, but her gaze held something different, “Right now. If he were to choose between her and me. Who would it be?”

“I suggest taking that offer Tris gave you and move out…” Tommy said all that she needed to hear, “If you’re as nice as you seem then you can provide this act of kindness.”

“Today preferably.” Ellie muttered as she pushed passed Heather and walked towards Tommy.

“Yeah.” Heather muttered before she walked back inside and slammed the door shut.

“I am not spending the day with her.” Ellie began to walk, “Come on, I’m hungry and if you’re here then I know that Maria is the one making breakfast.”

Tommy chuckled before following after the girl.

You were trudging through the snow, seeing the barn on a few steps from you. Mikel stood by two saddled horses, his dirty blonde hair was covered by a tan cowboy hat, weathered by age and sun.

“Morning.” Mikel waved at you, his accent thick.

You remember asking him the first time you both went out on patrol together. He told you his parents were from Romania before they settled here in America.

“You look rough. You doing okay?” Mikel watched how my stride was slower than normal.

“Yeah. Everything’s good.” I nodded my head not wanting to get into your private business with Mikel. He was a friend of course, but you like sharing your problems with anyone outside of your family. Thankfully he didn’t push the topic.

“You found a new hat.” I commented as I reached for one of the horses’s reins, “Hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“John gave this to me. Pretty cool don’t you think?” He tipped his hat before getting on his horse, “And no. Not long. I just came out when you showed up.” Mikel handed you a rifle.

“Thanks.” You said and went to check the barrel to make sure it was loaded.

“You don’t have to. John said he loaded it.” Mikel said.

You smiled at him, “Sorry, it’s a force of habit from Joel. I can’t help it.” You looked back down again to check the gun until you heard his voice.

Speak his name and he shall appear.

“Firefly.” He called out to you.

It made you look up, forgetting about the gun as Joel engulfed you in his strong arms.

“Joel—”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Jesus. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promised I would never hurt you and I did last night.” Joel curled his fingers into your hair as he breathed in your scent, “Don’t go today sweetheart, I’ll go. Just please stay with Ellie.”

You pushed back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, “No.” You stated firmly as you carefully pushed him away even if you were ripping your heart out of your chest, “I need time away from you right now and waiting worriedly for you to come home safe won’t help that.”

“You’re the one who hurt her? I should’ve know it was you.” Mikel stepped up beside you, “Why don’t you leave her alone old man.”

Joel’s fist clench as he clocked in on the young man with a hard glare, “What did you just say?” The word barely got out, sounding more like a muffled growl.

“You heard me.” Mikel pushed Joel’s shoulder, “She deserves better than you. Someone who can protect her.”

Joel didn’t try to fight back, of course he didn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten you by pummeling the young guys face in. No he stood like a force that couldn’t be moved and let Mikel shove him as if he were some tough guy when in reality, Mikel’s shove didn’t even make Joel stumble.

Joel’s glare hardened, “I know she does, but I don’t think you’re the one to decide what she wants.”

“Mikel stop.” You placed a hand on his arm and pulled him back, but he slipped from your grasp heading straight to Joel.

“Oh, but I think she’ll let me with the cute little obedient thing that she is. After all she lets you run all over her does she not?” Mikel whispered so lowly in Joel’s face that you couldn’t hear what he was saying, “It will be easy to get her to behave once she’s mine.”

He took back everything he just said. He could pummel this guys face in. Joel’s fist connected with Mikel’s jaw within the two seconds it took for Mikel to smirk. That smirk however was wiped clean off his face as he fell harshly into the snow.

“Fuck!” Mikel cried out as he clutched his jaw from the seething pain.

“Joel!” You gasped at the sight, unsure of whether to be angry or appalled. You decided that both reactions would do.

“I’m sorry.” Joel apologized to you and only you for having to see that. He didn’t apologize to Mikel who clutched his jaw in pain. He hoped that he would feel that punch for weeks, maybe even have a fracture in his jaw… But Joel could only hope.

“I can’t believe you right now!” You cried out absolutely frustrated over the entire morning. Joel’s eyes widened as you stepped towards him and shoved him back. He couldn’t be angry with you though. You didn’t know what Mikel said. He just let you try to push him, “You’re the one who did all of this. You have no right to be angry!” You yelled at him before turning around.

You reached down to help Mikel up, “Are you good to go on patrol?” You asked him as you looked at the bruise already forming on his jaw. Mikel muttered a yes, a glare directed towards Joel.

“Go get on your horse and we’ll head out.” You told Mikel who walked over to his horse without complaint, being sure to hide the smirk growing on his face.

“Don’t go.” Joel’s focus was solely on you, his hand reaching out as if he wanted to take your hand, but held back, “He—”

“I don’t care what he said or what you just did Joel. Go home.” You glared at him.

“I don’t like him around you.” He pressed, his glare zoning in on Mikel.

“Well tough luck Joel. You don’t get to go around being jealous over the fact that Mikel’s my friend after all the shit you’ve done to me with Heather.” I spat out her name like it was venom, “Go home Joel. I don’t want to see you for a while.”

His face fell, “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean right now.” Your gaze flickered to the ground, “Please.”

Joel sighed, his shoulders tense and angry at himself for being unable to convince you to stay, “Fine.” He agreed gruffly, “As long as I know you’re coming back tonight.”

“Why should I come back?” You muttered.

“For Ellie.” He knew it was a low blow, but he didn’t want you to leave them.

“You’ve pushed me away for months Joel. What do you want me to do?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the anxiousness that you felt.

“I know.” Joel nodded numbly, “I just… Fuck.” He sighed, “I don’t want anyone else dying on my hands.”

“People die Joel.” You explained as you stepped back, “It’s choosing who you love more. Her or me. And to be honest… I don’t think I’ll like the answer you give me.” You turned away from him and mounted your horse.

“You.” He said when the only thing left of you was your horses hoof prints in the snow, “Always.”

It was an awkward first thirty minute ride for you and Mikel. The two of you kept to yourselves and welcomed the timid silence.

“Is he always like that?” Mikel muttered.

“Not always… It’s been…” You sighed as you adjusted the gun on your shoulder, “Is your jaw okay? He’s got a pretty strong right hook. I’m surprised you’re still conscious.”

He shook his head with a breathy laugh, “I’m tougher than I look. What do you even see in someone as broken as him?” He wondered as he looked at you.

That question caught you off guard and it took you a moment to answer, but you knew the truth. It lied deeply in your bones, an echo of your heart.

“Everything.” You looked up to the sky, “The good, the bad, the broken, I see everything…”

“I could treat you better you know.” Mikel fixed his hat, “If you gave me a chance. I think we would be good together.”

You breathed out a laugh, “Oh really now?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He dipped his head towards you and put on his best Texan accent, “You bet darlin.”

The two of you broke into laughter.

“We’ve gotten along well for months have we not? If you give me a chance I can show you how you should be loved.” He continued, a hopeful look in his blue eyes.

“Thanks.” Your tone was a lot more calm than from earlier, “But I have my Joel waiting for me back home even if we are fighting.” You gave him a soft smile, “I’m glad that we are beginning to become friends though. I hope we can keep this friendship.”

“Me too…” He replied and you felt that was enough.

Maybe if you paid closer attention you would see something was off. The shadows in the trees or the hand tightening around a rifle.

“Let’s head out a bit further today.” Mikel suggested and you nodded your head.

“Alright.” You answered.

You should have paid more attention.

Joel entered the house with a heavy sigh and a deep ache in his chest. That did not go as he planned… He fucked up. He really fucked up and now he wasn’t sure if you would come back. It was like you were slipping through his fingers and he could do nothing to hold onto you.

“What did you do?” Ellie spoke up.

Surprised at the voice, Joel turned around to face Ellie who sat on the staircase behind him. Her boots were still untied, but it looked like she had been sitting there for a while.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Joel asked.

“Since I heard you groveling up the steps.” Ellie crossed her arms, “What did you do?”

Joel cringed at her words, “I… I fucked up.” Joel took a few steps towards her.

“I can see that, but how bad?” She pressed, “She is coming home isn’t she? She is right Miller?”

He grabbed onto the staircase railing to help him sit on the step, but it didn’t make crouching down any easier, “I don’t know…”

Ellie snorted, “You really are old.”

“Shut up.” Joel spat as he finally sat down beside her.

“What did you do?” Ellie asked again, “Why are you so worried she isn’t coming home?”

It was quiet for a few moments before Joel finally answered Ellie’s question, “I punched Mikel.”

“No!” Ellie gasped, “You didn’t!”

Joel nodded, “I did.”

Ellie knew that Joel didn’t act without reason, “What did he do?” She asked this time.

“He isn’t good for her.” Joel answered, not wanting to relay the words Mikel had said to him to Ellie. She would go chasing after the two and pummel Mikel to the ground.

Ellie wanted to lighten the mood and so she smirked, “Bet you were jealous.”

Joel glared at her from the corner of his eyes, “Was not.”

She started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. It must have been hilarious, “Oh you definitely were!”

Joel only grunted at her in response not wanting to continue this conversation anymore. He wondered if maybe Tommy would have a job for him today… He could sure use the distraction.

Ellie wiped at her tears, “You know I really don’t know what she sees in you. I mean I do, but I don’t.” She explained in the nicest way she possibly could which for Ellie was being very blunt. Something that her and Joel had in common.

Ellie and her honest words have always made Joel irritated, but he knew deep down that she was right. At least about this.

It was a while before Ellie looked towards him again. She saw the sullen look on his face and watched the way his scowl seemed to deepen even more. Carefully, Ellie rested a hand on his shoulder, as delicately as she could as if she was about to startle a bear.

“You saved who you needed to save. Now it’s time to let Heather live her own life and bring mom home.” She said.

Joel sighed deeply, knowing the kid was right, “I don’t know what she sees in me either.” Joel answered her honestly. He couldn’t tell her that she would come home and why should she? He treated her horribly and now it’s hitting him in the chest. Making it tighten as if he couldn’t breathe. It was the same feeling he felt when they first arrived here. When he thought that he couldn’t protect his girls and now… Now he feels like he’s loosing the one woman he’s grown to love, “I’m going to go see Tommy about some work. I’ll be back later.”

He feels like he’s lost her for good and that truly terrifies him…

It’s been more than a couple of hours since you first es headed out on your patrol.

“How long have we been out here?” You asked as you looked up at the darkening sky.

“Not too long though we should probably head back soon…” Mikel’s voice trailed off, “Let’s just head down this bend and we’ll turn around.”

You agreed to his suggestion and the two of you continued down the snowy bend. It was a few more minutes of riding before you saw that Mikel was squinting at something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I don’t know…” Mikel stated and the two of you rode a little closer to see what it was.

You both looked at the abandoned building that was down the hill.

“What is a cabin doing out here?” You asked.

“Don’t know. No one has ever been out this far…” He muttered, “Let’s go check it out.”

Mikel’s words only prompted you to move forward as you both traveled down the snowy hill and towards the small cabin.

It looked to be old, and most likely unused as there was no smoke billowing out the chimney from this chilled weather. The two of you cleared the area first before circling the home. Mikel went around back as you entered the cabin. The opened door provided some light, but not enough to see the inside of the cabin in its entirety. It wasn’t until you pulled back the tattered curtain to the windows that you realized the place fully furnished.

You thought there wouldn’t be much to it, scraped barren from the world that had been pushed upon it, but you were wrong… And you didn’t like that you were.

You looked around carefully, not finding anything else out of the ordinary until you ventured further towards the fireplace. Even though there was no flame or smoke to the coals, they were still hot. An unwelcome chill feel over you as you quickly stood up, much more alert than you were previously.

You remained silent as you crept to the front of the house, gun now raised as you went to find Mikel. You hoped that he was still walking about outside and that whoever was here previously was long gone. You slowly stepped outside, eyes immediately locking onto the figure in front of you. You expected to see raiders, a clicker, hell a bloater would have made more sense then Mikel standing there with his own rifle directed towards you.

You didn’t lower your weapon as you asked him, “What are you doing Mikel?”

“I need you to listen to me. Please.” His request was a near plee, something that you found irking.

“I’m listening.” Your eyes darkened at him.

“I fell for you the first time I saw you all those months ago. You were like a breath of fresh air and rain. I did everything to get near you, even fixing us to go on routes together when Joel left. She said I could have anything I liked if I did what she asked. She promised me this.”

“She? What you mean she?” I muttered as I wracked my brain for an answer that could explain all of this.

“She said I could keep you.” Mikel’s grip tightened around his gun as a crazed look fell over his eyes, “I followed orders. I did everything for this moment and now. Now it’s my turn to have what I want.”

“You led me here.” You realized, “This is your cabin.” You didn’t want to listen any more to his words. The only thing on your mind was getting back to your family. Your eyes narrowed as you squeezed the trigger without hesitation, but you didn’t get the recoil that you were expecting. You tried again… Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Your anxiety picked up when you began to realize this.

“You can shoot all you like. There’s no bullets.” He stated and that was all the answer you need. That’s why he handed you the gun earlier. That’s why he was assuring you it was loaded. You should have checked. You shouldn’t have forgotten about the damn gun. You should have checked. Joel would have…

Joel.

You wished for everything in your soul that he was here with you right now. Fuck. Quickly you threw the gun to the snow and ran as fast as your legs could carry you.

Mikel sighed as he aimed his gun at you, “I was really hoping that you would see it my way.” He fired without hesitation, shooting you in the leg, “I did this all for you. For us.”

You gave a blood curling scream as you fell, staining the cold white snow in the warmth of your blood. You heard more footsteps and the sound of horses from behind you and you knew then that your home was about to be destroyed.

“Everything is prepared for your arrival.” Mikel stated, “Don’t keep Heather waiting.”

“Another successful raid.” One of the guys chuckled out, “She’s too cunning. I knew that was why John kept her around. And that girl? You gonna share?”

“This one is mine.” Mikel answered and you could hear his footsteps head towards you.

“Joel!” You screamed his name even if he couldn’t hear you, “Joel!”

Mikel straddled your waist, digging the bit of his gun into your wounded leg, “You’re still screaming his name even after everything he’s done to you? I am better than him!” He yelled as you cried out in pain, “Why can’t you see that?!”

You turned and watched over half the town population of raiders heading towards Jackson. It left a horrid feeling inside your gut as you could do nothing lie in the snow.

Your only thoughts were of Ellie and Joel.

“I’ll make you see that I’m the one for you.” He whispered in your ear.

Please survive. You must survive.

Silence fell over Joel and Ellie as Heather served them dinner. They were both lost in their own thoughts as they waited for her to come home.

“It’s getting late… Do you think something happened to her?” Ellie asked as she peered out the window the darkening sky.

“I’m not sure dear. Maybe they had to find shelter from the weather picking up?” Heather placated as she served them.

“I’ll go check with Tommy, see if she’s there.” Joel began to stand.

“But your food.” Heather pointed to his untouched plate, “You should at least eat something before you go. Don’t you think?”

“I’ll be back.” Joel reassured, “You two can eat without me.”

“I’m coming with you.” Ellie stated as she pushed her plate aside, ready to join him on his search.

Joel immediately shook his head while he was putting on his coat, “I don’t want you catching a cold out there. I’ll go find her.”

“Promise?” Ellie’s eyes showed her worry as she looked up at Joel.

“Promise.”

“Stay safe then. I’ll look after Ellie until you get back.” Heather nodded towards Joel. He returned the gesture.

“And Heather?” Joel called out.

“Yes?” Her gaze looked hopeful.

“We’ll discuss more about your move with Tris. I think your well acquainted with the lifestyle here to start building your new life on your own.” He said before heading out.

“I hope you like meatloaf.” Heather ground her teeth as she tried to remain calm from Joel’s biting words.

But she would make him see…

Not at all… Ellie thought as she looked at her plate. She cut into the meatloaf as she watch Heather serve herself. It looked off, but she warily took a bite and swallowed the unknown substance.

“Why are aren’t you eating yours?” Ellie asked as she slowly chewed her food.

“Not that hungry I suppose, but that just means more for you.” It was the way Heather’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes that made Ellie feel uneasy.

Slowly she put down her fork, feeling nauseous, “I’m not that hungry either.” She said, but she had already eaten some of the dinner, “I think im going to go lie down.” She tried to stand, but the room spun and she ended up crashing to the ground.

“Sweet dreams dear.” Was the last thing Ellie heard before falling asleep.

She would make him see that they are meant to be together.

Joel checked the barn first before heading to his brother’s house. He quickly noted that two horses were still missing from there stables. That only let Joel’s worst fear come true at realizing she wasn’t over at Tommy and Maria’s house. It made his swift walk into almost a jog as he raced over to Tommy’s.

“What do you mean she hasn’t come back yet?” Tommy asked the moment Joel barged in, letting them know what has happened.

“I don’t know. I was hoping she would be here, but her horse is still missing. I think something has happened to her.” Joel ran a hand through his hair.

“Well round up some folks and head out there on a search.” Maria insisted as she stood up.

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll get—“ Before Tommy could finish his sentence multiple gunshots could be heard through the town.

“What’s that?” Maria’s eyes widened at the loud noise.

“Whatever it is. It doesn’t sound good.” Tommy murmured as he quickly put his boots on.

Joel’s heart was racing as he tried to keep a level head, “Tommy, Ellie—“

Tommy nodded his head, “Go get her and bring her here. Maria you stay and keep an eye out for them okay? I’ll go find out what’s going on.”

“It sounds like a raid.” Maria sounded worried as the gunshots continued, now paired with yells and screams.

“That’s why I need you to stay here, arm yourself, and hide. Wait for Joel to come back with Ellie and I’ll be right behind them okay?” Tommy pressed a tender kiss to Maria’s forehead before he and Joel were out the door, armed and ready for a fight.

“I’ll head with you for a couple blocks and then break off okay?” Tommy whispered to Joel.

Joel grunted with a nod as the two blended in with the night.

It wasn’t long before Joel was silently hurrying up the steps and threw his front door. The house was dark and it seemed oddly quiet as he searched the place for any sign of Ellie. He quietly made his way upstairs and to her room where he was pushing the door open. He expected her to be awake, packing her backpack, but instead she found her unconscious and tied with duck tape on her bed. His footsteps were quick as he rushed over to her, but froze when he heard the clock of a gun.

His piercing eyes flitted over to the corner of the room where the moon shined on Heather’s face. There she stood with a gun pointedly in Ellie’s direction. She knew what she was doing. His life meant nothing to him, but Ellie… Well she was his world.

“You know I really thought you were smarter than this Joel.” Heather tsked with a sigh, “I thought this would go a lot smoother too, but you just couldn’t choose me could you?”

“What did you do to her?” Joel’s gun was facing her with no hesitance to kill if he got the wrong answer.

“Don’t worry, I only drugged little Ellie that’s all.” She tilted her head, “She’ll be fine as long as you are cooperative so why don’t you be a good boy and put down the gun.”

Joel slowly lowered to the floor as he placed his rifle down, “Why are you doing this?” Joel’s voice dropped lower as he quickly assessed the situation.

“Didn’t you hear? This town is in need of a little remodeling and I know just the group to get that done.” She smirked.

“You don’t mean…” Joel’s fist clenched at the feeling of betrayal seeping through him.

“Oh yes. Surprise! You should be happy. All of this couldn’t have happened without you.” Heather smiled.

“I didn’t.” Joel huffed defiantly.

“But you did. You helped me dethrone John. Took him out so I could be on top and it’s quite nice up here, but I don’t want to be alone. You’ve shown me just what love could feel like and I know that we could rule this town together now that your precious firefly is out of the way.”

“What did you do to her?” He growled and Heather rolled her eyes.

“You’ll never see her again, I can promise you that.” She laughed, “And you dug yourself too deep to gain her forgiveness Joel. Something you’re never going to get from her again.” She stepped towards him, “Why don’t we just have a glass of whiskey and forget about her hm?”

“What. Did. You. Do.” His tone was as harsh as the gun fire outside.

“Why do the tiny details matter? She’s gone. You’ve made it perfectly clear when you casted her aside. I saw it in your eyes Joel. You feel something for me!” She urged, “All you need to do is just give us a chance.” Heather pleaded, “You, me, and Ellie would be good together. We will be the perfect family.”

“No.” Joel’s tone held no room for consideration, “You’re not her. You’ll never be her. I don’t know what kind of delusion you have where we end up together, but it will never happen.”

“Oh fuck you.” She glared at him, “Is this really because of her?” Her hands shook with rage as she held the gun.

“She means more to me than you will ever know and if she is dead. I promise you, the infected will be the least of your worries.” He threatened.

“Really now?” She scoffed as she tried to subdue her anger, “Why don’t you worry about the girl you still have left hm? You really want me to be the villain here then fine…”

Her gaze narrowed as her gun clocked, “Dawn is coming your way and it’s about to bleed red.”

#joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro is daddy #pedrostories #joel miller angst #joel and ellie #whiskeytearsseries #whiskeytears

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year

Text

nsfw - mdni. reader and gojo are in a semi established relationship it’s a whole thing. reader squirted on his face and he won’t shut up about it. 834 words.

“Any questions?”

Yaga looks around the room at the group of sorcerers in front of him, yourself and Satoru included despite your responsibilities with your respective students, with his arms folded. Someone on the opposite side of the room clears their throat and you don’t bother to look, instead sighing quietly when you hear Gojo’s voice from behind you.

“Bored yet?”

Rolling your eyes, you reach up to try and pinch his cheek to get him away from you but he only bunches closer and you miss. Pinching the soft skin of his earlobe as he leans over your shoulder, you quickly drop your hand and put it in your lap to bring some level of professionalism back to your appearance.

Your efforts make no difference to the man watching you fidget beneath his blindfolded gaze and he continues, whispering right beneath your ear.

“I know I’m bored,” he admits, to the surprise of absolutely no one, “and I keep thinking about last night.”

Turning your face enough that your eyes meet his covered ones, a warning glance is leveled but it only makes him offer you a toothy smile in return. He drapes his opposite arm over your empty shoulder but you don’t put up a fight, afraid to draw attention to yourself in front of a room full of people who shouldn’t even know the two of you spent the night together.

“Can we discuss this later?”

The pleading edge to your tone only pushes him further, his dangling hand now inching back up your arm and wrapping around your shoulder.

“Don’t be shy, princess, you should be proud of yourself.” You groan quietly, stomach turning with equal parts of heat and anxiety recalling exactly what he’s talking about. “Made a big mess all over this pretty face, didn’t you?”

Closing your eyes, you pretend you don’t hear him at all and instead choose to focus on listening to the questions regarding a smaller mission across the country being asked by one of the grade three sorcerers.

Your mind drifts elsewhere, though, to big blue eyes peering up at you while your thighs were spread over his big fat mouth last night. Those hands were full of your hips, lush skin spilling between them, and your cunt was being devoured as if it were his last meal. His enthusiasm was so contagious that it even caught you up in it, your releases coming in spurts of liquid drenching his face and chest with each high he helped you drift to.

Crossing your legs tightly, you pull your mind back into reality by force and try once again to focus despite the menace at your back.

“Didn’t you?” He pesters again after your prolonged silence and you shift, trying to get him off of you and that finally captures the attention of the rest of the room, several heads turning in your direction.

“Is there an issue, Gojo?”

He scoffs at the insinuation that he’s the only one causing a ruckus, you always have been one of Yaga’s favorites so of course you avoid the reprimand, but leans back into his own chair nevertheless.

“Just waitin’ on you to wrap this up.”

An unamused chuckle leaves the principal and you listen to the rustle of clothing from behind you that indicates Satoru is folding his arms over his chest.

“If you’d been paying attention you would have known that we’re done for today.”

Everyone begins standing and Satoru grabs you as you do, hand wrapping around your bicep. Pulling you in his direction, you frown but he doesn’t stop and instead leans down enough that he’s mouth level with your ear once again.

“I’ll make you do it again tonight, I’m feeling a little parched after all this.”

Despite his embarrassing antics, you can’t help but half smile and look up at him through your lashes. He’s incorrigible in every way but you find it too charming to be angry.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “But for the rest of the day you have to leave me alone.”

He nods and you feel grateful that for once he agreed without a hassle, letting go of your arm and heading toward the exit. You exhale, relieved, but he turns on his heel and looks straight at you and the group of your peers standing at your back attempting to make their exit too.

“I can still smell you on me.”

Satoru smirks, sniffing loudly and rubbing his hand over his chin before rounding the opened door and you feel your face heat as everyone turns to look at you, faces giving away their various levels of distress.

Groaning, you slump and your hands slap against the outsides of your thighs.

“He’s talking about perfume! He’s talking about perfume…you saw him earlier.”

An unconvinced murmur seems to be the shared opinion of the entire group that is now making its way out the door, leaving you alone to catch your breath, attempting to explain yourself futile.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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seeingivy · 3 months

Text

water lillies

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

an: two chapters back to back. also the last one :'(

sukuna realizes that repetitive phrases help him in the year that follows. that no matter how dangerous it feels, the feeling of hope is one that he has to keep in his chest, regardless of his track record of horrendously horrible bad luck.

he’s not going to die tomorrow. yuuji’s perfectly healthy. he’s going to replace the plastic finger on your ring with a real one someday. you’re all going to live very long lives.

there’s a nervous anticipation, an excited one simmering in his chest, as picks up the little tray of drinks – two strawberry matchas, an iced coffee, and a scone – as he takes it back to the table, where the group of them are waiting.

“what took you so long?” sammy asks.

“you’re so impatient.” sukuna responds, handing the drinks over to the moms and sammy, before splitting his scone in half and handing it over to yuuji.

“i’m working on that.” sammy grates, giving him an irritated look.

sukuna smiles.

sammy was working on that, after he had very graciously given her the number to his therapist after she called him crying asking for it.

it seemed that sammy had one too many fights with you, hurt mai one too many times, and realized that she was finally ready to let go of lifetime of hurt that she had accrued. anger issues, impatience, and the insurmountable amount of aching that always seemed to take residence in her chest was on its way out.

with his help. and with yours, even if you didn’t know about it entirely.

“wait, where’s y/n?” yuuji asks.

sukuna smiles.

“she has class.”

“oh.” yuuji responds.

sukuna watches as the confusion contorts in his face, albeit, the strange nature of the gathering catching him off guard. both of the moms, sammy, and yuuji were called here for an early morning rendezvous at what might be the only good cafe in their town – play coffee.

and sukuna would have waited to schedule this for when you were free, if he didn't have something important to ask all of them. a question that you couldn’t necessarily be present for.

“okay. i’m not treating you all to coffee for no reason.” sukuna states.

“i fucking told you. he would never be this nice.” sammy whispers over to yuuji, the two of them nodding at one another.

“you’re so kind, sammy. you have such a way with words.” sukuna deadpans.

“i live to please.” she resopnds.

“is everything okay?” mrs. itadori asks.

sukuna smiles, before reaching over to squeeze her open hand.

three months prior, his mom was the last person on the very long list of people that he deserved an explanation too. even more than deserved an explanation – but another person who just deserved to know why he left, what he had been through.

satoru and suguru had taken it really well, satoru offering him one second of seriousness to very earnestly tell him that he was very happy that sukuna had stayed long enough for the two of them to become friends. nanami had shared his own experiences – the two of them being intrinsically closer than before from their shared past – and shoko responded by giving him gummy bears and a hug, which meant more to him than she could really understand.

it shattered lots of things for yuuji, something that he felt insanely guilty about – for not catching on to all of it sooner. but sukuna could also tell that it had done something for the two of them, to talk about something, whatever it was that they went through together as they were kids, and it only made him love him more.

and his mom. for the first time, after a very earnest scolding about parenting and responsibility from your mom, was worried about him. he found it a little bit overbearing at times, the way she would call and remind him at night that she loved him very much and that he was her entire world – but the thought was there. and on the days that he found it hard to quiet the voices in his head, it really did make all the difference.

to hear you remind him. and his mom and yuuji, sammy and everyone else in between.

“it’s great. i just have to ask for your permission for something, that’s all.” sukuna murmurs.

sukuna watches their faces drop. he realizes after the fact that it was a bad choice of words – especially for his mom – when they were the exact ones that he used before he left for europe.

“i’m not moving.” sukuna clarifies.

“oh thank god.” his mom responds, dramatically pressing her hand to her chest as he rolls her eyes.

he looks over at the four of them, a simmering warmth in his eyes, as he takes in the looks on their faces. and it seems that in his delay, the most perceptive of the group, has figured out what’s happening all too fast.

“oh my god. you’re going to do it, aren’t you?” your mom murmurs.

“what?” sammy asks.

“you…you’re going to propose?” she asks.

“what? you’re going to propose? to y/n?” yuuji asks, his voice almost frantic.

“YOU GUYS ARE GETTING MARRIED?” his mom squeals, so loud that it earns her a wary look from everyone else in the store.

sukuna winces as he lifts his hands, beckoning for the group of them to lower their voices, as he reaches into his pocket and places the little green box at the center of the table. sammy’s the first to snatch it, eyes wide and filled with tears as she opens it up, to the little circular cut diamond, set into the golden band that he had picked out almost a year prior – the second you got home from the trip he went on for his birthday.

he had been holding on to it for a better part of the year. and it was finally time to use it. he was paranoid that he would never get to replace the plastic ring that he gave you, so he figured that he’d buy the real one as soon as he could – just as another solace to himself that he would actually get to do it.

“wait. you’re really going to propose to her?” sammy whispers.

“i am. with all of your permission, of course.” sukuna states.

he watches as they all give him bright smiles, before reaching forward and placing their hands on his.

“oh, sukuna. of course, you can marry my daughter.” your mom responds, giving him a bright smile

“holy shit. you’re actually going to be my brother.” sammy states.

“that’s if y/n says yes.” mrs. itadori states.

sukuna gives her a glare.

“what a vote of confidence, mom.” sukuna deadpans.

“they already wear those plastic rings all the time. they literally think they’re already married in their heads. don’t be annoying, mom.” yuuji responds, huffing an irritated sigh at her as she rolls her eyes back.

sukuna takes that as a vote for yes.

“i’m obviously joking. the two of you have no sense of humor.” mrs. itadori responds.

sukuna turns his head to the side, eyes expectant as he waits for his mom to give a proper response, noting that phenomenon – of getting so emotional that the feelings get crumpled up in your throat is one that he gets from his mom – as she reaches forward, a warm hand on his shoulder as she squeezes.

“this is all i’ve ever wanted for you. not only because she’s my best friends daughter, but because…well, it’s all you deserve, my sweet boy.” she murmurs.

he watches as him mom turns her head to the side, shooting an excited smile to your mom, as he notes that the wedding gears are probably turning in both of their heads just from that shared glance.

“i’ll need a favor from all of you. two from yuuji and sammy.” sukuna states.

sukuna smiles, before pulling out the little envelope in his pocket, the four of them giving him weary eyes as he opens it up.

“whatever you need, son.” your mom responds.

sukuna memorizes that line – the way that she said it – and commits it to memory.

“you’ll all have to meet us in france first.”

you and yuuji accompany megumi to the tattoo parlor as he gets his first set of ink. it’s a special design that yuuji drew out for him, a set of constellations that the two of them had charted together on one of their first dates together.

the tattoo parlor still smells the same as you remember it, bright designs printed on the wall and neon lights, as you take in the little room – the magnets on the fridge and the little frames on toji’s desk. you note that there’s a picture that you took a few months prior, of tsumiki and megumi standing next to him.

“hi toji.”

you watch as he looks up from his little work station, his tools and guns meticulously organized, as he taps the seat in the middle, giving megumi a bright smile.

“right here, kid.”

after the funeral, you had finally found the time to reconcile with megumi about what happened on your birthday. the two of you got dangerously drunk, talking about deadbeat dads and everything in between, before yuuji and sukuna had to drag you out of there on your ass.

about how your dad forgot you. about how megumi had never talked to his own. about how when they both left, how your moms spoke so little of them that you almost felt like they were ghosts of nothing. and that on most nights, you were filled with such a deep curiosity – of who they were, of what could have been.

when yuuji dragged the two of you out of there, he had realized how much he had probably annoyed sukuna on the nights that he asked him to do that.

but it seems that in the horror stories that you had shared with megumi, he realized that he was left with an agonizing amount of questions about his own father that he couldn't ignore. and one day on a whim – he had marched to the tattoo parlor all on his own and asked all of them, basically till toji was free of every answer that he could possibly give.

and megumi realizded that there was more to the entire situation that met the eye. that there were things his mom had purposely omitted, for reasons he could understand but not get behind. and weirdly enough, by some twist of fate, was now going to reconcile with his own father.

you were more than supportive. only because whatever strange fatherly advice of figure toji was trying to be for megumi, he was also trying to do for yuuji as well. it filled you with an almost insane amount of joy, that toji was so approving of yuuji, that he thought the two of them were meant to be together.

and yuuji deserved that – someone who wanted to be his father. that was proud and happy for him for who he chose to love. that liked him just as he was.

“you ready, megs?” toji asks.

“yeah. this is the design.” meugmi responds, handing him over the little half sheet that yuuji had drawn out, as toji nods.

you take toji’s side as he starts to stencil in the little design at his little workstation, yuuji leaning on the side of the little chair as him and megumi talk in hushed tones.

“hi toji.”

he glares at you.

“do i know you?” he asks.

you roll your eyes, slightly shoving him in the side, as you lean forward, watching him stencil the little design with his purple marker.

“you’re hilarious, toji.”

“i’m a part time comedian. i take tips.”

you fish into your purse, reaching for one of the coins in there, and throw it onto the little tin working space.

“you’re so generous!” he deadpans.

“I live to please.” you joke.

toji smiles, averting his eyes as you follow his gaze. he’s staring at megumi and yuuji, the two of them with their hands locked into together and laughing under their breaths. and you smile, only for toji to glare at the sweet look you’re giving him.

while he’s just as much of a sap as sukuna, he hates to be up front about it. especially when it comes o you, because you always feel the need to make a comment about it to him. half because you want him to know that you appreciate what he’s doing for both of them. and because it’s really fun to irritate him.

you imagine this is how satoru feels when he annoys sukuna.

“shut up.”

“i didn’t say anything.” you respond.

“you were saying it with your face.”

“you’re projecting!”

toji glares, sketching the shading on the little constellation, as he heaves a sigh.

“never did thank you, you know.”

“for?”

“dunno. telling him about your shit dad. he never would have come here if he didn’t.”

“well, i for one, love to tell people about my shit dad. it makes for a funny story.”

toji smiles.

“he really didn’t recognize ya?”

you shake your head.

“he thought i was sukuna’s girlfriend from europe.” you state.

“do you want me to kill him?” toji asks.

you laugh.

“that’s okay. yuuji punched him for me.”

“eh? cupcake over there? there’s no way”

you grin. toji very lovingly calls yuuji cupcake – only because the first time yuuji met him, he decided to bring a box of cupcakes that he consequently dropped on the sidewalk before he could even make it to toji’s apartment.

“that’s right.”

“no shit. he doesn’t have it in him. he’s so….sunshine and rainbows. like you.”

“had a full bruised hand and everything! you’re forgetting that he’s sukuna’s brother.”

“that’s fair.” toji states.

there’s a pause.

“speaking of, how is he?”

“sukuna?”

toji nods.

“he’s okay. doing good, i think. i mean, he definitely has days where he’s…where it’s harder than others. but i’m glad that he trying to work on it now, at least try to be a little bit more open about it.” you state.

“you know, he came into my shop, a shitty little angry sixteen year old begging me to give him a tattoo.”

“and you broke the law and gave one to him.” you state.

“yes. but only because at the time, i could…i could tell that he needed that. and i talked to him about stuff here and there, and i sat there and thought about how if my kid was feeling like this, i’d give them that so they wouldn’t do something more drastic. hurt themselves or something, ya know?”

you frown.

“yeah.”

“and well, it’s fucking great. the fucking idiot walks in here smiling all the time. tells you all his weird shit even though he fucking hates doing it, or at least at the time, he did. he even seems more lively or younger or some shit compared to then. whatever it was that was wearing him down back then has long left him. so don’t worry about him too much? that one’s a fighter.” toji states.

you smile, your heart thumping in your chest.

“yeah. yeah, he is.” you respond.

toji gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he beckons for you to join him at his megumi’s side.

sukuna’s voice is muffled against your neck, lips warm on your skin, as he whispers. you’re eying the dresses that you have left – a flowery pink pattern and the white silk dress that sammy had picked out with you weeks prior.

“wear that one.”

“what?”

“the white one. the one with the lace shit, that’s long. i want you to wear that one.” sukuna states.

you frown.

“i was saving that one.”

“for?” sukuna grins.

when sukuna brings you to france, you know that he’s going to propose to you. because on one of the last days of your trip, he’s taking you to the musée de l’orangerie, where monet’s water lilies are. and you know that true to his word, he’s going to propose there, just like he promised you almost a year ago in that dirty tattoo parlor.

but you can’t say it forthright. that you’re saving the pretty white dress you have for the day that he’s going to propose. because it’s presumptuous to say he's going to propose, and knowing him, the element of surprise is something that he would have wanted maintained.

but that doesn’t mean that sukuna doesn’t try to goad it out of you. he hints at it all the time – asking you why you save the dress for the end of the trip, why you’re saving some of your better jewelry for the last days, asking why you wanted to get your nails touched up towards the middle of the trip.

it’s thin ice that the two of you walk on, that neither of you acknowledge. it’s what makes it exciting.

“wear this one today, okay?”

you frown, before scaling away to your suitcases, eyeing the dresses that are left in the bag

“wait but…”

“you’re wearing the white.” sukuna demands.

“i want to…”

“wear the white. trust me, you’ll want to wear it today.” sukuna whispers, leaning over the little distance between the two of you, as he offers you a wink.

you pause, testing the waters.

“but…we’re going to giverny today.”

“that’s right.”

the water lilies are in paris. he can’t be proposing today.

“you want me to wear this dress…this white dress…to giverny.”

sukuna grins.

“yes. the pink one is better for paris. you know i love pink.”

you sigh, looking down at the fabric. he did have a thing for you in pink. you give in, putting together the outfit – the white dress, the mary jane shoes that sukuna had picked out for you, and a little pearl clip to secure your hair back.

sukuna’s taking some extreme lengths – pressing his head in between your legs to buckle your shoes, attentively putting the clip in your hair, and pressing soft featherlike kisses to basically any patch of skin that you can find.

“you’re in a mood today.”

“i’m just really excited for giverny.”

you understand the excitement once you get there. giverny’s the smallest little village in the north of france, a little bit of an hour away from where the two of you were staying, and is filled with the brightest, most beautiful flowers that you’ve ever seen in your life.

you get into town in the early hours of the morning, the two of you giving each other excited smiles as you set out to the little town. the two of you eat breakfast together in the smallest bed and breakfast, sukuna takes an obscene amount of pictures, and you buy a little charm for your bracelet.

sukuna gets uncharacteristically quiet, a light pink tinge on his cheeks, as he leads you down a winding road, unti you end up at a little house at the end of the way. it’s magnificent – a few people teetering in and out of the doors – as you eye the brick walls and the green window panes. there’s bright pink flowers at the front, muted purples and greens all around, as you look over at him, taken aback by the fact that he’s already looking at you.

“sukuna?”

“this is why we’re in giverny.” he murmurs, lightly pulling at your wrist as he takes you in through the middle of the house, offering a spare glance to the people milling around, and taking you through the back.

his hand is warm in yours as you walk out to the little backyard, a green bridge across the little pools of water, with willowing trees dousing the entire area in the shade of the calm sun. he leads you right to the center of the bridge, the two of you leaning your chins on the tops of your hands as you look down at the water, your little reflections staring back at you.

“did you notice what’s in the water?”

you look around, feeling your heart drop in your chest, at the water lilies almost decorating the entire pond – pink flowers with lily pads of green – as you widen your eyes, the wetness glassing over your eyes as you look over at sukuna, who has the softest smile on his face.

“i know that i’d lost the element of surprise when i told you that i wanted to propose to you at the water lilies in the musée de l’orangerie. i figured the next best thing was taking you to the real water lilies that the painting was based off of.”

“wait. wait, this is…”

“claude monet’s house. his garden, more specifically, and the real water lilies from the painting.”

you pause.

“you’re going to propose.” you state.

sukuna shakes his head.

“not exactly.”

you feel your heart drop.

“what?”

“i’m going to marry you.”

you feel your throat dry. and your head spin. and your heart pounding in your chest – because surely, he can’t be serious.

“sukuna?” you whisper.

he laughs.

“don’t freak out. but i’m going to marry you.” he repeats, the tenor in his voice so calm that it nearly freaks you out.

you reach forward, hands on his shoulders as you squeeze hard, the wetness pouring onto your cheeks as you lean forward, smiling.

“i would love to marry you. i’d do it right now but..but we can’t just..our moms, your outfit and i…”

sukuna stops you mid sentence.

“your sister and my brother are here with our moms. they’re actually watching from that bush if you look back.”

you turn around, following the direction of sukuna’s finger, as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and his voice like honey in your ear as he continues. you see four sets of eyes – and yuuji giving you an embarrassingly wild wave – as sammy yanks him back down.

“sammy has a veil. she said it’ll hook into the pearl clip that she gifted you. my mom picked wedding rings for us. your mom got ordained. and yuuji decided that he’s going to be the best man and the man of honor for both of us. your mom also has that weird flower shit for me that’s supposed to go on my jacket.”

“wait…wait you really…”

“speaking of, as much as i like this plastic ring…”

sukuna uses his hands to spin you around, until you’re facing him this time, hands pressed against his chest as you look up at him.

“i told you that i was going to give you a real one.”

you watch as he reaches into his pocket, plucking the perfect little ring out of the box, as he reaches forward, slipping the plastic green one off of your hand and replacing it with the sparking diamond. the former goes into the depths of his pocket, but you’re too preoccupied with the one he’s just given you.

you look down at it, at the way it glints in the sun, before looking back up at him, at the smile on his face as he expectantly waits for a response – to everything he’s just laid out in front of you.

“you’re really doing this? you’re really going to marry me right here?”

“if you let me.” sukuna responds.

he pauses, before taking his hands in yours, eyeing and fiddling with the newly replaced ring on your finger before looking back up at you, and smiling.

“i can’t wait any longer. i did all of this, flew our parents out and our siblings, and made sammy buy you this perfect, beautiful dress because i have to marry you right now. and it’s not because i’m paranoid or because i’m scared you’re going to die on me, but because you’re the love of my life. i want our love to be forever. i know you’re going to live to tomorrow and i am too – but it’s still not good enough for me that we’re not tied together in all the ways people can be tied together.”

you smile.

“i just want you to be my wife. you’ve been my everything since forever and i need everyone to know that. my tax forms, the government – i need it written in paper, i need there to be real living proof.”

you laugh.

“me too.” you murmur.

“yeah?”

“yeah. yeah, i need someone to shout it from the rooftops. i want to send it to the fucking newspaper back home just so everyone knows that you married me and i married you. and i really do want to do it right now.”

and you watch as he grins – at what may be his first confirmation that everything he planned out is going to come to fruition right now, because you’re going to marry him. and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, hands frantic around your neck and pulling you closer as you lean back, glaring at him.

“save that for the wedding.”

“i needed one last kiss from you as my girlfriend.”

“well, i think that was technically my first kiss as your fiancee? your last kiss with me as your girlfriend was the one this morning. it tasted like french toast.” you state.

he shakes his head.

“okay, go away now. let sammy put your veil on. and walk back down with her and yuuji, okay?”

you give him a nod, quickly shuffling to the little bush where all four of them are crouched, nervous eyes as you bend down, giving all of them a smile.

“are we getting married?” your mom asks.

“we’re getting married.” you confirm.

the all cheer, yuuji leaning forward to press a kiss to your head, as you feel the warmth bloom under your cheeks, and they all start nervously panting. your mom starts rehearsing the little lines that she has to say, cards pressed in her hands, as sukuna’s mom pulls out the little box that the rings are in. the two of them nurse sukuna’s boutonniere in their hands, messing with the pin at the back and making sure it’s in place.

“okay, turn around, i’m putting the veil on. mom, go stand out there with sukuna he looks like a fucking idiot standing there alone. yuuji and i will walk her down.” sammy mutters.

the two of them nod, quickly running out – but not before giving you a warm kiss on the cheek – as you watch both of them give sukuna a long hug, biting so hard on your cheek that you draw blood when sukuna leans forward, wiping a tear away from your mom’s face.

you hear a little clicking noise, as sammy starts draping the little frilly veil over your shoulders, her eyes in a deep attentiveness as she comes around, fixing the stray hairs on your forehead and the straps of your dress with frantic hands. and you can’t help but lean forward, wet tears in your eyes, as you burrow your chin into the crook of her shoulder, and squeeze hard.

“you’re going to walk me down the aisle?” you ask.

you lean back, sammy giving you a sweet smile before reaching up and cupping the side of your face.

“i helped you take your first steps. s’only fitting, right?”

“yeah.” you whisper.

“and we can’t do it without him either, of course. naturally, you’re going to be attached at the hip until the end.” sammy mutters.

and you turn to your left, where yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet at your side with wide eyes, hands nervously fidgeting in his pockets at his side as you shoot him a warning glance.

“you okay?”

“i was friends with you when you literally had no fucking teeth. and now you’re just getting married. to my brother.”

you smile.

“do you have a problem with that?”

yuuji rolls his eyes.

“i don’t like to share.”

and he pauses, before leaning forward, his hands featherlike on your shoulder.

“i know this is really weird, but i…i feel like i’m giving you away.” yuuji mumbles.

you laugh.

“i feel like you’re giving me away too. you…you’ve been the only person around in my life, in the same way, basically forever. you’re really the only person whose approval matters to me.”

he smiles.

“we’ve both spent a good amount of our lives just with each other. but i’m glad that you’ve opened up space for a few more. and i have to. and for sukuna of all people, who fucking adores you. i’m half mad i didn’t think of it myself earlier, but you’re perfect for each other.”

“thank you, yuuji.”

“and this is the perfect scheme. you’re going to be my sister. we can upgrade the term soulmate to soul sister now.”

“deal.” you whisper.

you both laugh, as yuuji holds his hand out to you, which you tuck your hand into before pressing a kiss to his cheek. the two of them look to you for confirmation, before you leave your little spot behind the bush, your little heels clicking against the wood of the bridge, as sukuna stands in between your moms, a hand pressed to his chest, and he cries freely.

his mom hands you the rings, two simple golden bands. and your mom seals the words, that tie you together forever.

four days later, you finally do make it to musée de l’orangerie. sukuna drags you towards the back – to the painting from the blue and purple background that’s been on your computer for years – as you both tangle your arms together, fingers adored with your newly minted rings.

it feels dangerously full circle to sukuna.

that he had visited years prior, alone with headphones shoved into his ears, and stood there alone thinking about you. about how he wanted to live, about how he was going to move past everything that had happened to him – and at the very least, return to japan someday and see you again.

and he stood there, wondering what you would be like. if you liked the same music, if you watched the same shows. if you still ate cinnamon raisin french toast and wore ribbons in your hair.

and at that point, he knew he wasn’t going to return to japan for another few years, but when he did – he was at the very least, going to be determined to find the answers, in the most natural way he could. that somehow, the two of you would end up near each other, at the same restaurant or at the same bar, and he’d get to ask.

“what are you thinking about?” you whisper.

sukuna looks down, at your head resting against his shoulder, and leans forward, pressing an absentminded kiss to your forehead.

“that this time around, you’re standing here with me.”

that he got to put a ring on your finger. that he knows you don’t listen to the same type of music as him but you do have the same taste in shows – even if you have different favorite seasons. you like french toast when he makes it and think the ribbons fall better when he places them in your hairband for you.

you love him. and he loves you back.

an: a very long love letter to this beloved fic. this has been six months of one of the sweetest things i've ever written. this fic is literally so special to me for so many reasons bc it's pushed me so many ways in figuring out how I like to write and express my feelings -- and i've put so much of myself and my real struggles of good old life into it. needless to say that all of the sweet comments and love that i've received on this have every bit worth it. this goofy little one shot took a life of it's own from all the love you've all given me on it and i'm so glad we ended up here together 💌 (and I promise, i'll actually write dream girl actor sukuna now, I just had to finish this one up properly)

and a beloved kiss to my lovely @babiemay who enabled this original brain rot in the first place. you are a star.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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creamhoodie · 9 months

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First Time

A/N: Written for the person who requested it, I hope you enjoy it! synopsis: After you both confess that you are virgins in a game of truth or dare, Gojo offers to take your virginity. (afab reader, aged up characters, set during Gojo's Jujutsu High days)

You still remember the moment you fell in love with Satoru Gojo. It was when you had joined Jujutsu High and met him for the first time. You had met him outside by the koi fish pond. Coming from a non sorcerer family, you didn’t know anything about him then. Not that he was the strongest, a practical God on Earth, the honored one.

Not a damn thing.

All you had known then was that he was handsome and so you had made small talk to him the way you would anyone else as you two sat and watched the fish swim in circles. You enjoyed his kind and witty personality and had immediately felt at ease with him.

It was such a small thing but it had meant everything to him as well. You had seen him as simply Satoru and had spared him from all the usual awkward ogling. He had hoped as time went on that you wouldn’t change in your behavior with him as you learned more about him.

He was grateful when you still treated him the same and as a result the two of you had become close friends. Of course neither of you had crossed that bridge regarding your mutual feelings out of fear of rejection and ruining the dynamic the two of you had going.

Still, it was evident to anyone that knew the both of you that there were feelings there: mutual yearning and longing looks that when called out would be denied. Perhaps the two of you would have continued that way for who knows how long if it hadn’t been for Geto and Shoko that had suggested playing drunk truth or dare one night after coming back from a mission.

“Wait so you’ve never had sex?” Shoko had asked you as that had been your truth question to answer. You had foolishly believed that choosing the truth would spare you from any embarrassment.

“I told you the truth. I’ve never done that,” you had said, face hot.

You hated talking about this in front of Gojo. Both Geto and Shoko admitted to having lost their virginity, the former bragging about just how many women he had been with from the sister school.

“Well why haven’t you done it, yet? You’re very pretty I’m sure lots of guys would want to,” Shoko continued to press the issue.

Though you knew she didn’t mean for it to be embarrassing, the spotlight on your lack of sexual experience was growing humiliating. Luckily, Gojo, who seemed to always be in tune with your feelings, spoke up.

“So what if she hasn’t had sex? Leave her alone. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” he said.

You gave him a wry smile as thanks, the heat from your cheeks dying down.

“Well don’t leave us hanging, Satoru. You’ve been awfully quiet, what about yourself?” Geto asked.

You found that odd. Surely the two would talk about these things amongst each other, but Gojo was ever the mystery.

“I haven’t had sex either if you must know,” he said. Unlike you there was no shred of embarrassment visible in his demeanor.

“No way! But what about all those girls from the other school?” Shoko asked.

Gojo shook his head.

“I said I didn’t have sex not that I didn’t do anything at all. Now can we please move on to something else?”

Luckily, the alcohol in everyone’s system kept the mood light hearted and the other two were easily derailed to other topics.

Afterwards, Gojo walked you back to your room. He had his hand resting on his neck the way it always did when he was pensive. He stopped in his tracks causing you to do the same.

“Listen what I said back there, I meant it. You shouldn’t be embarrassed just because you haven’t had your first time yet,” he said.

“Thanks for that,” you replied a little unsure of why he was bringing it up now. His cheeks seemed a little pink but perhaps that was the alcohol?

“I just think your first time should be with someone special, don't you agree?” he continued.

“Yeah I feel the same,” you said. His next words caught you by surprise.

“So I want you to know even though there’s nothing wrong with it, if you- you know don’t wanna be a virgin anymore I’d be cool with helping you out with that,” he said. His stuttering was unusual for him, especially since he was usually so confident and well composed. He was a young man of conviction and that’s why earlier he hadn’t been embarrassed to admit he was a virgin because he believed in the sentiment of the first time being sacred.

“Are you offering to have sex with me?” you asked slowly, your mind not fully registering his words yet.

“If you want to. I just- look, you’re special to me. You’ve always seen me for me,” he said, closing the slight gap between the two of you. His hand cupped your cheek before adding, “am I special to you?”

Him touching you wasn’t unusual, as your close friend he had hugged you, ruffled your hair, and laid his head on your shoulder. All of these actions had always made your heart react and now was no different, in fact it only raced more alongside the question he had asked you.

“Yes you’re special to me Satoru,” you said in almost a whisper.

“Well I want you to think about it. My offer always stands. Shoko is right there’s no shortage of guys that would want to be with you, but I wanna be your first. You’re so special and important to me I wanna make sure you’re well taken care of.”

He planted a kiss on your forehead and wished you goodnight then, leaving you to stay up restless considering his offer.

First, your mind thought about how he could possibly be a virgin as well. He was a known flirt and had flings even if not serious girlfriends, but he wasn’t a liar so you knew when he said he was a virgin he was telling the truth.

Second, you wanted to be with him. You had always known that you had feelings for him so why deny him when he was offering it with good intentions? Despite it being the middle of the night, you called him. He answered on the first ring.

“What are you still doing up?” He asked, though his voice sounded just as alert with no hint of sleepiness.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied.

“Same,” he said laughing slightly and you were glad to know at least he was in a similar position.

“Listen about your offer. I agree,” you said.

“Holy shit, really?” He asked in both shock and excitement.

“Yeah, I just thought about what you said..” you paused, chewing the inside of your cheek before continuing.. “Am I really special to you?”

“Of course you are. I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now,” he said seriously, and you believed him. You were silent for so long he spoke up again: “so do you want me to come over now or..”

Your cheeks felt on fire as you realized you hadn’t exactly called with a plan of action other than telling him you agree.

“I hadn’t thought that far,” you admitted.

“It’s okay. How about tomorrow night? That way we have time to prepare and think about it and everything,” he said gently and you were grateful at how he was trying to accommodate you.

“Yeah tomorrow night sounds good,” you agreed.

“Cool, so you wanna do it in my room or yours? I have no preference,” he said.

“My room if that’s okay,” you replied. Your reasoning was you’d enjoy the familiarity of your room and your own bed would allow you to relax without having to worry about somehow ruining his.

“That’s okay. I have some errands to run tomorrow but we’re still good for the night and I’ll text you to confirm,” he said.

“Sounds good, well goodnight,” you said a little hurriedly.

“Goodnight,” he said before hanging up.

Unbeknownst to each other, the two of you both struggled to get sleep that night as anticipation for the next night’s engagement.

—

“What’s that?” You asked Gojo as he showed up at your door at the time you had agreed upon with a medium sized pink paper bag in hand.

“Just some things to set the mood and things we may need,” he said walking past you into the room.

You closed and locked the door behind him watching as he started taking out white candles from the bag and placing them on your nightstand.

“That’s so thoughtful of you. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before,” you said, shifting slightly.

Your prep had consisted of taking an ‘everything shower’ earlier and making sure your body was moisturized and groomed to your liking.

“Don’t worry about it. I want you to be comfortable,” he said, lighting the candles then going to turn off your electric light.

“Should we use a condom?” you asked suddenly, remembering.

“It’s your decision. I brought some in the bag if you want me to wear one,” he said.

He seemed to have thought about everything. You were grateful for his efforts to make you comfortable. You weren’t sure if you wanted to use a condom for your first time as you did want to be able to feel everything and you knew where you were in your cycle so the chances of pregnancy would be very low.

“We can start with one if that’s okay and see how it goes,” you offered.

“Sure, whatever you want,” he said, seeming indifferent about it.

You stood there and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He smiled at you and went to sit at your bed, motioning you to come sit with him. You did so.

“Sorry if this is awkward,” you said shyly, not meeting his gaze.

He lifted your chin up gently so you were forced to meet his eyes.

“It’s a learning experience for both of us. Don’t worry. Can I kiss you? That’s how it usually starts anyways,” he said.

You gave him consent by nodding and his lips were on yours. At first the kiss was soft and gentle, sweet light pecks that allowed you to get used to the taste and feel of him. They soon grew more feverish as you kissed him back. His tongue entered your mouth, lightly grazing the roof of your mouth.

“You taste good,” he whispered as the kiss broke apart a faint trail of saliva still connecting the two of you.

“You do too,” you said, already feeling a pool of arousal forming between your thighs. His lips moved down your neck, and it felt so sensual and eventually he traced that path back with his lips, his destination being yours once more. You felt him smile against your lips.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, pulling away gently, his eyes ever so soft.

“Yeah, you’re a really good kisser Satoru,” you complimented him. He shrugged it off but you could tell from his smile and the blushing of cheeks that the praise meant a lot to him.

“Would it be okay if I took your shirt off? You can take mine off too,” he offered.

“Yeah that’s fine,” you replied and held your arms up as he helped discard your lounge shirt leaving you exposed in your bra.

“Wow you’re incredible,” he whispered in awe.

“Thanks,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice how red your face was getting before you added,”let me help you now.”

His white cotton tee was soon discarded, revealing his muscular torso. Instinctively, you reached out to touch his six pack and he shivered a little at the touch.

“Sorry,” you said, quickly dropping your hand.

“No,” he replied, taking your hand and placing it back where it had been, “it’s fine I like when you touch me.”

The sincerity in his words gave you courage and so you let your hands run down his chest, taking in the firmness of his sculpted figure.

When you looked up at him he was watching you intently with fondness in eyes.

“Can I touch you as well?” he asked.

You nodded.

His large hands went to cup your breasts, the nipples were almost seeping out of your bra from this gesture, and it was alluring to him. He wanted to take his time though, and cherish every moment with you.

You felt the same, and no words were needed as he kissed you again, still cupping your breasts through your bra. You sighed in pure bliss and you were really enjoying how you were both taking the time to become used to each other’s bodies and touch. Losing yourself in the feel of him, your hand rested at the front of his pants and you could tell he was hard already.

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss apart as he felt your hand palming at his front.

“This okay?” you asked innocently. You knew he had done stuff before even if he hadn’t had actual full on sex so you were trying to lead by his example, not wanting things to be so formal or awkward.

“It’s more than okay, baby. I’m just worried I won’t be able to last long if you keep at that,” he said laughing a little before continuing,”here how about I start to prep you a little, yeah?” He tugged at the drawstring of your matching lounge pants.

You nodded but then felt embarrassed at the immense pooling you felt in your panties.

“Wait, Satoru-“ you said as he undid the tie of the drawstring.

“Something wrong?” he asked with genuine concern.

“I’m just really wet down there, forewarning,” you said.

He smirked at that.

“Good you’re supposed to. It’ll feel better for you that way, trust me,” he said.

When he felt your body relax, he undid the knot now fully allowing for you to pull your pants down. You appreciated how he allowed you to do it yourself, letting you make the decision. Your pants fully discarded, you were exposed to him in the matching baby blue set you had chosen specifically for him.

For Gojo, the curved shape of your ass and the soft supple skin of your exposed thighs were driving him crazy.

“You’re perfect,” he told you. He positioned himself so he was on his knees in front of you. “I’m gonna try something, let me know if you want me to stop.” His hand went to your sex, cupping it briefly before moving the fabric of your underwear to the side so he could feel and see your pussy.

“Satoru..” your breathing hitched, you weren’t sure why exactly you were calling his name but you knew you needed more of him. He seemed to understand.

“Fuck-you’re soaking,” he exclaimed. His eyes were fixated on your pussy and he was biting his lip. Taking one finger, he pushed through the folds gaining entrance.

You winced a little and he paused.

“It’s okay, just getting used to it,” you said, relaxing your body to make it easier. You felt long his finger gain full access to you and the sensation of it being inside you felt interesting and new. Yes, you had explored and pleasured yourself before, but it was much different when someone else did it. His digit felt much more prominent.

“Good girl, you’re so fucking good. I had brought lube in case we needed it but it seems like you have plenty of your own,” he praised, entranced by how you pooled around his finger, “let’s see if you can take another.” He took another long finger and put it inside of you next to the former, gently stretching you as he did so. Determined to make this a good experience for you, his free hand searched and easily found your clit, a bud behind the rose petal folds of your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you moaned as you felt him stimulate your clit and begin to buckle his fingers inside of you at the same time.

“Feels good?” he asked for feedback, though from the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure he was sure he knew.

“So good, Satoru. How are you so good at this?” you asked, succumbing to moans as his free thumb stroked your clit.

Truth was, he had spent his prep time reading up on female anatomy. Sure, he had messed around with women before but he was still a virgin and as a man he felt it fell on him to make the first time perfect for you. He had also watched some porn but when a lot of them seemed catered to men with unrealistic expectations and regard for the women he had turned to amateur couple porn and read erotica.

Of course he wasn’t going to tell you any of that though, despite what you may have thought he also got flustered around you.

“Gonna give you another,” he said, turned on at how putty-like you were becoming for him. The third finger didn’t go in as easily as the first two. “Shhh come on baby you can do it. Need you to take them, otherwise we can’t fuck.”

To help you relax, he inched up closer to you until his face was in front of yours, kissing you sloppily. Your hands went to his snowy hair, loving how soft it felt and earning you a moan from him. When the kiss broke apart, you felt more turned on.

“Hold on to me if you need to,” he said, pushing the third finger all the way in. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you sighed feeling the fullness of his three long fingers inside of you. “Good girl, I knew you could do it.” He began to thrust his fingers inside of you, mimicking the action of what was to come. All the while his free thumb stroked your clit.

Your moans became gurgle-like and you couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel from just fingers alone.

“Satoru, I feel-“

“You’re close, baby I know. I can feel it from how your pussy is gripping around my fingers,” he said. Your toes curled and you felt your orgasm coming as he kept the steady tune of stimulation.

“Ahhh..oh fuck,” you moaned, your words slurring as you hit your peak.

He chuckled as you laid back, breathing heavily and trying to collect yourself. You watched him suck on one of the fingers he had put inside of you.

“Want a taste?” he teased.

You shook your head, still breathing hard. That was so good.. too good. You hadn’t even orgasmed that good on your own.

“Satoru, promise me you’re a virgin too,” you said.

His eyes lit up at that.

“Was it that good? I promise I’m a virgin. I just read up on stuff. I want it to be good for you,” he said. His skin became rosy and you believed him, noticing his bashfulness.

You watched as he walked over to the pink bag he had brought with him rummaging through it.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Getting a condom,” he replied.

You had nearly forgotten about that. You remembered how good it had felt to feel all the ridges and skin of his fingers, suddenly you couldn’t think of anything worse than having that skin to skin contact blocked.

“Wait Satoru, I changed my mind. We don’t have to use one,” you said.

“Really?” he asked, excited.

“I just want to feel all of you,” you said shyly. He came back over to you, bending down like before to kiss you.

“Thank you for trusting me with that honor,” he said afterwards, his lips still lingering inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze and his proximity made you feel faint.

“Shut up, Satoru,” you said giggling both from nerves and at how serious he sounded.

“I mean it. I’ve meant every word of what I’ve told you. You’re special to me,” he said, then you felt him hook his thumbs underneath your bra, “let’s get you out of this pretty thing, yeah?”

He undid your bra easily and you helped him remove it, placing it on the floor. Your underwear soon followed.

For Gojo, it was everything he had ever fantasized about, having you laid bare before him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe but it was enough for you to hear.

Laying there completely vulnerable to him, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you thought you would have. You chalked that up to him having taken various measures to make you comfortable.

He began to undo his pants, unzipping the front and pulling them down alongside his boxers to reveal his hard, long length.

You gulped at seeing how big and thick he really was. It was also veiny and the head was plump and pink.That was supposed to go inside of you?

“Don’t worry, baby. That’s why we prepped,” he said, seeming to read your thoughts.

“It’s so big, Satoru,” you said astonished, but you supposed it made sense he was just tall and big in general.

He seemed smug at that and came over to you again lining up in front of you.

“You ready? Just relax, we’ll go nice and slow,” he said.

“I’m ready,” you said.

You felt a slightly brief discomfort as his tip fettered through your folds into the plush entrance.

“Shh, how are you doing? Just relax like you did for my fingers,” he said gently, almost nurturing.

This was so much different than a finger however, it was thicker and wider and to think this was only the tip. He shoved a little more then sighed, a laugh of relief falling from his lips as his full tip was in.

“You feel really warm,” he said. He craved more of it, wanted his full length soaring inside of you already, but he knew in order for the sensation to feel good and be non invasive to you he had to take his time.

As for you, you enjoyed this new feeling of the sensitive skin of his head soaking inside of you.

“I want more, Satoru,” you whined, desperate to find out how his full length felt.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled at your mutual enthusiasm. With that, he gave you another, inch adoring the way your lips let out a delicate little ‘o’ as he did so. All the while you soaked him more and more as you grew more excited.

Another inch, another moan, all until his full length was finally resting inside of you.

You felt each unique ridge and curve of his penis and it felt amazing knowing you were the only one who had ever felt him this way.

“Satoru, it feels so good,” you whispered.

“You feel incredible too, like you were made for me,” he said, amazed and enthralled at how you fit perfectly around him. He bent down and kissed you passionately, still in this missionary position. The skin to skin contact with him felt divine, incredibly intimate as his chest smushed against your breasts. When the kiss broke apart he added: “To think it feels this good just to soak and I haven’t even started thrusting yet. I suppose I’ll start now, but please don’t hold it against me if I don’t last too long.”

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you said, assuring him. After all, it was his first time as well, you wouldn’t possibly hold anything against him performance wise.

With your reassurance, he began to thrust his length, giving you steady rhythmic strokes.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking warm,” he groaned. Never had he felt a pleasure this good. Your soft walls engulfed him in their warmth, the sensation could only be described as the same soothing feeling one got from standing near a fireplace. Your pussy was greedily clamping down on him and your bed had begun to squeak at the back and forth motion.

“Yes Satoru oh yes give it to me,” you whined, your legs wrapped around his waist bringing him even closer still and your hands went to his back desperately clawing at him.

“Fuck, don’t think I can last much longer even though I want to- ah oh you’re so fucking hot,” his voice sounded so animalistic as he was losing himself in the feel of it.

You moaned as he continued to fuck himself into you, his length hitting your sensitive spots.

“I’m close we never discussed it- where do you want me to finish?” he asked, voice pained as he tried to be considerate despite being completely out of his mind. “Baby, baby tell me where you want me to cum,” he continued, urgency in his voice when you didn’t answer him.

“Inside, Satoru, I want it inside,” you replied at last, forming words out of your moans.

“Ahhh fuck so good to me,” he praised. The sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, the bed spring creaking and your shared moans was enough to set him over the edge.

His hot fluid shot into you and he collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight. You stroked his hair as you both tried to catch your breathing.

You weren’t a virgin anymore, you had sex with your best friend who you’ve been crushing on for so long. It was enough to make your head spin.

“Did you like it?” Gojo asked, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were vulnerable and you could tell his mood relied on your answer.

Luckily, you had enjoyed yourself and could tell him just as much.

“It was perfect. You really made our first time so special, Satoru,” you said truthfully.

“I wanna sleep here with you tonight. Would that be okay?” he asked.

You couldn’t think of anything better than having him sleep between the sheets with you. It would add to the intimacy of it all.

“Yes I’d like that,” you replied.

“Cool,” he said.

The two of you laid like that a little while longer. You traced shapes into the skin of his back and felt the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

When he at last spoke again he said: “I don’t just want to be your first, I intend to be your one and only.”

If your heart could smile you know it would at his words. You watched the wick of the candle drop the flames, an ever present reminder of the passion between you two.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

#gojo x reader #gojo jjk #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #satorugojo #satoru smut #requests

544 notes · View notes

verstawppen · 4 months

Text

hold me close (cl16)

BLURB (1.2k words)

verstawppen writes: something short and sweet for yall. enjoy!

summary: you comfort Charles after a bad Quali warnings: none. fem!reader, F1 journalist!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, secret relationship.

The day was going by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every time you checked your lock screen it seemed only a minute had passed. You sighed in exasperation as the press conference stretched on well past the scheduled timings. You could see the exhaustion on Yuk and Daniel’s faces even from your position at the back and you knew they were dying to get back to their hotel rooms for a day of rest. But here they were, stuck in the media pen answering pointed questions about their Qualifying. And you were stuck too. You’d already done your duties and compiled all the responses from your interviews with the drivers for your tabloid. You were itching to get back to your hotel room. To get back to Charles. He’d had a bad Qualifying, just as he began his fastest lap of Quali, his gearbox began malfunctioning and Ferrari had to retire the car. He was visibly frustrated when he came back to the Ferrari garage. He just wanted to have a good race for once this season without facing any issues with his car and you felt that he deserved that, being one of the best drivers on the grid. Ever since you’d seen him leaving the garage, running his hands through his damp hair, something he only did when he was being consumed with anxiety, you’d wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and soothe his uneased mind. You were his girlfriend, you should have been there for him. But it wasn’t that easy, you knew the implications it would have on both your careers, more on his than yours, to be seen together. An F1 journalist and Ferrari’s golden boy. The media would have a field day, you would know. A brief buzz from the pocket of your trousers brought you out of your thoughts-

Charles <3 When are you coming back?? I miss you :( You I’m so sorry Cha the conference is running past the schedule. I’m stuck here Charles <3 Want me to come rescue you, cherie? You No it’s alright, love. Try to rest until I come back, you’ve had a long day. When Charles didn’t respond after 15 minutes, you presumed he’d taken your advice and had gone to sleep. You felt guilt churn in your stomach. Charles was always there to take care of you after a long day despite his own exhausting profession. He was an absolute sweetheart, showering you with kisses as soon as you came back to him in his motorhome or his hotel room, sitting you down on his bed before taking off your heels for you, nimble fingers massaging your sore, tender feet.

‘Fuck this’ you thought to yourself. “Hey I think I’m gonna leave early”, you informed your colleague sitting beside you. You were friends and you’d told her about you and Charles. She nodded in understanding, “Go, I’ll cover for you.” You got up from your seat, shooting her a grateful smile as you gathered your things and left the media pen. You called yourself a cab to the hotel where Charles and you were staying. The ride felt longer than when you’d arrived at the paddock in the morning, excited to see Charles race. You rubbed your temple, your concern for Charles growing by the minute.

You practically fell out of the cab when you opened the door in a hurry even before the car had fully stopped. You quickly paid the driver and ran up the steps of the hotel entrance. The cool air of the hotel lobby cooled your skin which had gathered a thin layer of sweat from your rushed movements and increasing stress. You impatiently waited for the elevator and immediately pressed your floor number once you were inside.

The elevator opened with a ding and soon you were standing in front of Charles’s hotel room fishing around with one hand for the keycard he’d given you while your other hand held your suit jacket and your bag. You scanned the card and opened the door. You tried to be as quiet as possible and closed the door behind you with a soft click. You removed your heels, set them down on the shoe rack and deposited your stuff onto a countertop near the room’s entrance. But maybe your movements weren’t as discreet as you thought because as soon as the bed came into view, you saw Charles had woken up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He let out a silent yawn but as soon as his eyes fell on you, his face lit up. He sat upright, a wide grin on his face which you mirrored. You quickly made your way over to his side of the bed and sat down in front of him, feeling his hands wrap themselves around your frame. He was wearing a black hoodie, his favourite one which you liked to steal sometimes. You buried your in his neck, he smelled of aftershave and his characteristic slightly musky cologne. You held him close, your fingers clutching onto his hoodie. His chin rested atop your head, his left hand tracing abstract circles on your back. It was everything you both needed. You pulled away and looked up into his sparkling green orbs. “Hi, love” “Hi, cherie” Even though he’d been calling you ‘cherie’ for more than 2 years now, the nickname never failed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached to cup his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “How are you?”, you asked. From this proximity, you could see the dark circles forming under his mesmerising eyes, a detail that the cameras thankfully never seemed to capture. And it was good, you knew Charles would hate for the world to think that he wasn’t able to take the heat. But at the end of the day, he was only human. He smiled before replying to you, his voice slightly raspy from having just woken up,” I’m good now that you’re here, mon amour.” Your hands moved from his face into his curled locks and he relished the feeling of your fingers lightly massaging his scalp, making waves of comfort and relief wash all over his tired body as his head found its resting place on your collarbone, lightly taking in the scent of your sweet floral perfume. He unconsciously smiled against your neck. Carding your fingers through his hair just the way you knew he liked, you spoke to him in a low, comforting sort of voice, “You did so well today, Charles. You almost had the fastest lap of the Quali despite having to work with such a difficult car. You got the best you could out of that car and that’s enough for now. Things will get better, Ferrari is working on the issue, right? You’ll soon have a car worthy of your talent and you’ll be back on the podium in no time, love.” He hummed in acknowledgement of your encouraging words. It meant a lot to him, more than you’d ever know. He pressed a small kiss to your collarbone in appreciation. “Thank you, ma cherie” You smiled, your eyes closing to relish the warmth of his presence in your embrace. “Anytime, Cha”

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itsjunear · 16 days

Text

Shadows and Whispers

Note: Hello loves! I'll try to be more active and post more often, maybe once a week (this is my proof that I'm trying 😀). It's really been a long week for me, but I truly appreciate and I'm so happy for the support the previous post received. I'm very grateful for the likes, reblogs, and comments 💙💙💙 I'm not sure if I should make a second part of that one, but in the meantime, here's this. I hope you enjoy it, and sorry if it's a mess! Again, remember that English is not my first language, but if there are any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know! I’m leaving the song I wrote this with, the slow version sounds really good :)

P.S.: I’m not really sure if this would work in ACOTAR, but I don’t know, I just liked the idea.

Words: +1k

Warnings: none, slight mention of tension

Summary: Reader and Azriel are sent on an undercover mission where they must pretend to be a couple. Reader has unresolved feelings, and the closeness with the shadowsinger leaves her confused.

The Mother definitely had a twisted sense of humor.

I was certain that in this life, I was paying for each and every bad thing I had done in my previous ones. If not, what would be the point of all this?

I had to suppress the complaint lodged in my throat ever since I had left the meeting with Rhys and he had communicated his plans for the Autumn Court.

Why? Why did these things always happen to me?

I could have gone with Cassian, Mor, or even Amren. I wouldn’t have had any issue pretending to be the lover of one of them. But of course, I had to go and pretend with Azriel.

Rhys had received a formal invitation to a ball in the Autumn Court, but decided to send us instead to investigate the political situation surrounding that entire red-haired family and how the stir was being perceived by the court’s nobles. Evidently, we were supposed to look as distracted as possible to catch any murmurs here and there, and the simplest way to do that was by pretending we were simply there to enjoy the evening as a couple in love.

Fantastic, I thought.

"I try to respect your privacy and not intrude on your thoughts" I heard Rhys’s voice in my head "but the way you’re shouting them, I could hear them even from the scraps of the Spring Court."

I grimaced but didn’t respond, letting the anger fill my mind so that he could feel it.

"Why are you so… irritated?" I heard him ask with genuine curiosity, and I sighed.

Rhys could dig just a little and find the reason, but he would never dare. Not without my permission.

"What do you care" I barked mentally, sulking.

I’d apologize later for speaking to my High Lord like that, but right now, I could feel the smoke coming out of my ears, and I guessed he could too because a laugh echoed in my mind before it simply vanished.

"Idiot" was the last thing I thought before raising my mental walls and reinforcing them with everything I had.

By the Cauldron, what was the problem? Well, for starters, I wasn’t in love with Cassian or Mor.

Hell, I had even suggested going with Amren to avoid going through this. Going undercover with Cassian was impossible—Nesta’s scent was all over him, and it wasn’t a secret that he had a mate. Mor was in the Winter Court visiting Viviane, and Amren… well, she was busy with Varian.

So that only left the shadowsinger and me free. Plus, neither of us was involved with anyone publicly, so we were the perfect candidates.

This time I didn’t suppress the groan of exasperation as I headed to my own room in the House of the River. I missed the company of the House of Wind, but now that Cassian and Nesta were there, it was impossible for me to stay—for the sake of my mental health, I fled that place. So I sighed and nearly cried when I reached my bed, bracing myself and trying to find the strength to endure what would happen in a few days.

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

Two nights had passed. Two damned nights sleeping like shit, practicing a mask of indifference and composure that I clearly didn’t feel.

I had also been more sensitive than usual, so I tried to avoid everyone, including Azriel. However, I saw Cassian every morning at training, and although I felt him casting strange glances at me, anticipating my mood, he didn’t ask about it. For that, I was grateful.

In a few hours, Azriel and I would be on our way to the Autumn Court, and I was just trying to control my breathing to avoid panicking. Even now, my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t fasten the endless buttons on the back of the pretty midnight blue dress, adorned with some crystals at the top and quite fitted from the waist down. Courtesy of Rhys.

A knock on the door distracted me from the mission, and holding the top of the dress to my chest, I opened it to come face to face with the man I had been avoiding with all my might.

I had to restrain myself from shrinking away upon seeing him in all his glory—not dressed in Illyrian leathers, but in a formal suit the same color as my dress, fitted in all the right places that made him look out of this world. If you added the large wings behind his back, the stoic hazel gaze, and the tendrils of shadows that surrounded him, giving him a mysterious and irresistible air… My breath faltered a bit.

He scanned me from head to toe as well, and the shiver that ran through me was completely involuntary. His gaze burned, but I did nothing to break the silence in which we were immersed.

"You look… beautiful" he finally said, hesitating a bit.

I swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of how to act. I had never been shy about receiving compliments, but when they came from him, they managed to destabilize me.

"Thanks" I whispered "You look great too."

Azriel nodded, and I saw his eyes drift to my chest, right where my hands were holding the dress.

"I need help with the buttons" I said in a tired tone.

He nodded again and entered my room, closing the door slowly. His shadows roamed freely, and I felt one of them caress my braided hair, making me smile.

"Sorry" Azriel apologized as he gestured for me to turn around.

I shook my head.

"I like them" I replied with a smile that died the moment I felt his fingers touch the exposed skin of my back.

"And they like you" he answered in his usual calm tone.

I didn’t respond, fearing my voice would tremble, and I focused on avoiding my skin from tingling wherever his touched. I even resorted to thinking about the painful blows to the stomach that Cassian gave during training when Azriel’s hands brushed dangerously low on my back.

I knew he also noticed the tension by the way his wings were tucked, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, I released the breath I had been holding once he finished and he removed his hands, though a strange sense of loss invaded me. Nevertheless, I ignored it.

A moment later, I turned around and faced him, tilting my head back to meet his eyes now that we were so close.

"Rhys told me you had certain… reservations about this" he broke the silence, looking at me with a calm expression.

Of course, he had told him.

I almost scoffed.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted me.

"We won’t do anything you haven’t consented to or that makes you uncomfortable"

I frowned.

"Of course I know that, Az. It’s just that I doubt this will work" I responded, smoothing out my dress a little.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Though that wasn’t the main reason. It all boiled down to the fact that doing this with him made me nervous.

"It will" he reassured me. "Rhys and I have evaluated all the scenarios. We are the most credible for this plan. Just trust me"

I nodded, though I couldn’t shake the slight anxiety of having him so close.

The shadow from before wrapped around my arm, making me smile again. Even though the touch was cold, it didn’t feel strange, so I didn’t fear playing with it with one of my fingers, not realizing I was practically brushing Azriel’s wing membrane until I noticed his shiver and the way his breath escaped him. I quickly pulled my hand away and looked at him only to find him with his eyes shut and the rest of his shadows slightly agitated.

"I’m sorry, Az" I apologized. "I’m so sorry"

I knew how reserved the Illyrians were about their wings and how they shouldn’t be touched, so his silence only increased the unease brewing inside me.

"It’s fine" he replied slowly after a moment. "It’s nothing" but I could see him swallowing hard.

I bit the inside of my cheek but said nothing more.

"We should go now" he spoke after a moment.

I nodded and took one of his hands, preparing to pretend I was in love with him, according to that stupid plan. When in reality, I would stop pretending I wasn't, for a moment.

That was what terrified me—letting my feelings out and not being able to hide them again after tonight.

But there was no turning back now.

"Ready?"

No.

"Yes" I responded with the steadiest tone I could muster.

He gave me a deep look before I felt the shadows envelop us, and soon the room lit up, leaving us at the entrance of the grand hall of the Autumn Court.

Then, I let go of one of his hands and gently brought it to his cheek, trying to convey my intentions. He held my gaze for a second before bending obediently, giving me the opportunity to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

The sensations exploded inside me, but I held back. This was a mission, I reminded myself. So why did his hand immediately curve around my waist?

This is just a mission, I repeated.

I pulled away a moment later, smiling softly at him. Before we both straightened up.

I supposed we had made it quite clear that we were together by kissing in front of all these people. I made sure to do it at the entrance so everyone would see, and I guessed Az understood too by the slight squeeze he gave my hand.

I looked at him one last time, letting a bit of my love for him escape. And then I turned towards the crowd, with a bright smile.

All right, the game had begun.

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