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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

Text

She’s A Gun

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry

Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]

Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!

You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze.

"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known.

"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand.

"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"

"I came here from Boston."

"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?"

"Long story."

"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?"

"I can get my own drink, but thank you."

"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."

"I work patrols, but good guess."

"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."

"Joel or Tommy?"

"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.

"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."

"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod.

You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though.

"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.

"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later.

Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.

"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."

"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.

"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.

"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."

"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.

"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar.

"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."

"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.

"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?"

"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."

"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.

"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.

"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."

"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.

"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar.

"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."

"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor.

He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.

Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.

But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something.

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione

#joel and ellie #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess

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vivwritescrappythings · 8 months ago

Text

Yours

joel miller x fem!reader

Finally finishing the request for a Joel Miller fic inspired by "Jealous" by Nick Jonas for @prettyinpunk85 (I hope you like it)

You get new neighbors in Jackson, Joel doesn't like how much attention they pay to you so he decides to teach them a lesson.

tw: afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, age gap (twenty years), exhibitionism, some dubcon, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex (do as i say not as fanfic writes), oral (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, jealous joel, written from joel's perspective (may be bad)

Word Count: 4.8k

MDNI

masterlist

—

Joel didn’t know what to do with himself when you’d happily announced that you had new neighbors. The house next to his in Jackson had been empty for some time, it was yours until you decided to move in with him and Ellie. He was hoping the neighbors would be a family, or maybe some older survivors. Really, someone you could be friends with, he knew you were way too extroverted for just his company.

But instead the new neighbors were his nightmare: two guys–in their twenties.

You were young for Joel, he knew that. Part of him had always attributed your interest in him to the fact that choices were limited in the zombie apocalypse. He hadn’t even known how to flirt with you, awkwardly leaving tattered books he had found during supply runs on your front porch, sometimes accompanied by wilted wildflowers. One day he had left you a bookshelf he’d built, endless hours spent in his studio sanding the wood to perfection and carving flowers into the border. You had to ask him to come over to help you move it inside.

That was over two years ago, and he still had no clue why a pretty thing like you had decided to even talk to him, let alone be with him. To be honest, no one else in Jackson understood it, either. You worked at the small bakery on Main Street and wanted to convert one of the buildings into a library. You liked to sew pretty dresses and planted superficial flowers outside of the house in the summertime.

Joel was nothing of the sort, keeping everyone at an arm’s length aside from Tommy and Ellie. He stayed on the fringes of community events, always present but never participating. Ellie was loud enough for the both of them, boisterous and friendly and everything he wasn’t. He was happy to watch her thrive.

So the first time she asked him to go to the bakery so she could hang out with a friend, he reluctantly agreed. He’d introduced himself to you like a complete idiot, blushing when you laughed and informed him that you were neighbors. Joel had become enamored with you from the second he saw your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the edges and your cheeks lifted. He could’ve died a happy man right there at the counter.

From then on, he claimed that bakery visits were firmly his responsibility.

He sucked up every piece of information you gave him, starting with your favorite items at the shop and spiraling until he knew that you loved wildflowers and what books you liked to read. Joel was greedy, he wanted to know everything about you–he wanted to be the only person that knew everything about you.

That was when he started leaving you gifts at your door, and the rest was history.

So when you swatted his hand away from the cooling cookies on the rack in the kitchen, his brown eyes regarded you with betrayal. “They’re for the neighbors,” you informed him, untying your cute, frilly little apron and hanging it on the hook he’d installed.

The neighbors.

They had already become adversaries in a war that only he knew existed. Joel sighed, heavy boots plodding against the floor until he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest. “Now why are you giving the neighbors my cookies?” he asked, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your temple.

“To be friendly, Joel,” you said with a giggle, turning in his arms to look up at him. His big, scarred hands were on the small of your back, fingertips rubbing gentle circles through your shirt. He swore his heart stopped every time you looked up at him, your thick eyelashes fluttering as your lips quirked into a smile. “Something that you are unfamiliar with.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “M’friendly,” he protested, pecking you on the lips as though it would prove his point.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, leaning up and kissing the corner of his lip once before squirming out of his grip. You retrieved one of the few plates that didn’t have a chip missing from the cabinet, transferring the cookies onto it with care. “It took you how many months to talk to me?”

Even if the question wasn’t rhetorical, he decided to treat it that way. He moved closer to you, a possessive hand curling around your waist and lips meeting your shoulder. “To prove you wrong, I’ll come with you to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.” He wanted to keep an eye on them, let them know that his pretty girlfriend was in fact taken before they got any wrong ideas.

Your brow furrowed, immediately suspicious of his motives. “Who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?”

He smiled, trying to be sweet and smooth like he used to be when he was younger. Before everything. “Maybe I just want to be nice, wildflower. Ever thought of that?”

Your eyes dragging across him let him know that you weren’t convinced. The two of you stared at one another, waiting to see who would cave first. Apparently it was you. “Fine, but I know you’re up to something.”

Joel’s hand was firmly planted on the small of your back as you stepped out into the afternoon sun, the whole world looking like it was dipped in gold. You went up the rickety porch stairs first, Joel only a half step behind you as you adjusted the plate to one hand to knock on the door.

He was staring at the way the blue paint was starting to peel, thinking about how no self-respecting man would let his house fall into disrepair like that. No mind that they had only moved in a few days ago, they should’ve repainted the front door by now–it was people’s first impression whenever they walked up to the house.

It took a moment after you knocked for the door to swing open, two blonde idiots who looked like they were straight out of a magazine advertisement standing on the other side. Their blue eyes lit up when they saw you, easy smiles gracing their features like they hadn’t been battle-hardened by the outbreak.

Not like Joel was.

Joel’s fingers dug into your back, his expression hardening. They tempered their excitement when they saw him, standing so close to you that he could practically be your shadow.

He loathed the way they were looking at you, his jaw set tight and flexing beneath his beard. You were talking, he could hear the notes of your voice like you were speaking underwater–he was too focused on the dopey smiles in front of you to even pay attention to what was being said. You made them laugh, they said something back to you. Probably their names if he had to guess.

Before he even realized, you were tugging him back down their porch steps and into your shared home, flitting away to make Joel his own personal batch of cookies like nothing had happened.

–

Three times that week he had come home to find them loitering outside the front door or talking to you along the edge of the freshly painted picket fence. They were always showering you with compliments, be it about your cookies or the flowers you’d carefully planted in the boxes Joel had built you. They scattered whenever Joel was there, making excuses about chores that needed to get done or errands that needed to be finished.

But he knew better.

Of course, you talked about the nice boys next door over dinner, it took everything in him to not immediately scowl at the mention of them. The fact that you referred to them as boys was laughable, they were closer to your age than he was—maybe a few years difference between you at most. Nothing compared to his whopping couple decades. He tried to brush the thought away as quickly as it sprouted.

He humored you, knowing that you just thought that everyone was kind and friendly and honest because you were. That was what he loved about you.

–

The last straw was when he was out in the back installing a porch swing for you to read on. They were doing something, near enough to the tall fence splitting the yards that he could hear them talking as clear as day.

Joel almost went over there to give them a piece of his mind, listening to them speculate about why you were with him. They were laughing as they bet that he couldn’t even get it up anymore, that there was no way he was taking care of you like a man was supposed to.

He was old, angry. And you… you weren’t.

He was seething by the time they finished up and went into their house, his hands nearly shaking when he finished screwing the brackets into the roof. Back in the QZ, Joel would have probably fought them—killed them, if he was honest with himself.

It would be easy to bust down their door and give them his retribution, he wasn’t always the domesticated beast he’d become for you. But nevertheless, he sucked it up. You would be devastated if he fought with them, as much as he would love to feel their skin split under his knuckles. He couldn’t do that to you.

—

It was a few evenings later that he got what he wanted: an opportunity for his revenge. You were on the porch swing with him, the two of you nestled together in the orange rays of the sunset. You both were reading, Joel’s arm tucked around your shoulders so your chin was pressed against his bicep.

You always were fully immersed in your books, an earthquake could happen and you would have no clue. So you didn’t hear your neighbors’ back door slide open, but Joel did.

He barely moved, didn’t bother to say a word as his broad hand moved from cupping your shoulder to gently graze around the side of your breast. It was a lazy day for the two of you, you were only dressed in one of Joel’s flannels and pajama shorts that were so loose around your thighs you may as well have never put them on.

You immediately shivered at his touch, your thumb slipping between the pages of your book to hold your place. “Joel, the neighbors,” you whispered, twisting so you could look up at him.

“Went on a hunting trip, they’re not home,” he said loud enough for them to hear. Hopefully they would have the good sense to shut up. His thumb circled your already stiff nipple, a smirk stretching across his features conspiratorially. “C’mon, Ellie’s at a friend’s house and no one’s here—let’s test out the porch swing.”

Your lips were already parted, the heat building on the back of your neck so intense Joel could feel it through his shirt. “Joel,” you whined in the way that made him get hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly playing dumb as though he hadn’t started it.

You pouted, your brow furrowing and bottom lip jutting out as you arched your tit further into his hand. He acquiesced immediately—he always did—pinching your nipple through the well worn fabric of his flannel. His reward was a soft moan from you, your body both melting into and arching away from his.

“What’s my girl want?” Joel asked, his voice a deep rasp as he stamped his lips against your temple. The small of your back was pressed against his oblique, your cheek squishing into his collarbone as he watched your thick thighs press together. He kept toying with your nipple, his free hand setting his book aside and pulling yours from your clutch. “C’mon, you gotta tell me. Can’t read minds.”

You huffed, you always hated it when he made you ask for what you wanted. “Joel please,” you whined, pressing your heels against the cushion that covered the wooden seat and sitting up so you were flush against him.

“Please what?” His free hand skimmed down your side, snapping the stretched-out, elastic waistband of your shorts. It made you squeak, a quiet giggle coming from your throat.

“God, please just touch me,” you whined, your impatience making him chuckle darkly. His hand moved from your waist, tracing over the pudge of your stomach and dipping into your loose sleep shorts. There was nothing beneath, just your soft skin and the curly patch of hair on your pubic bone.

“No panties? You slut,” Joel teased, his fingers traveling even further down until they sunk into your cunt. You were wet and warm, almost scalding his skin as he parted the lips of your sex to find your swollen clit. “And already so soaked.”

You moaned, a hand winding around his bicep as your back arched. He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your clit between the pads of his pointer and middle fingers, slow and soft. He knew you’d complain, beg him for more. He just wondered how long it would take until you did.

Not long at all, it was maybe half a minute when you rocked your hips impatiently against his hand. “Joel, you’re being mean.” You were loud, louder than you would ever mean to be with the threat of someone possibly catching you.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Mean? Not true,” he countered, increasing the pressure he was putting on your clit. If he strained his ears he could hear how wet you were, a quiet squelching noise barely muffled by the fabric of your shorts. You pressed your hips further against his hand, your teeth digging into your lower lip to keep your noises to a minimum.

He dipped to gather more slick at your fluttering entrance, teasing it for a moment before returning to your clit. You were being so good for him, so sweet. His other hand unbuttoned the flannel you were wearing down to your navel, freeing your breast for him to knead and squeeze in his broad palm.

Your eyebrows bunched together, your lips parting as your gaze was stuck on where his hand disappeared beneath your shorts. “Feeling good?” he asked, relishing in your moan of agreement as you nodded.

Joel smirked, pulling his hand from your shorts. “No–oh my god,” you protested, nearly up in arms. If looks could kill, he would be struck dead. He stood, his dark eyes briefly looking over the fence to see the neighbors still on their porch, their jaws dropped to their chests.

His smile widened as he sank to his knees in front of you, your protests dropping off as you lifted your hips so he could take your shorts off. A wicked grin stretched on your features, you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth as your gaze roved over him. You settled so your ass was almost hanging off the porch swing, spreading your legs without Joel having to direct you to do so.

“You want me to eat this pretty pussy of yours?” he asked, rough hands smoothing along the insides of your soft thighs. Joel wasn’t a man with a weakness for pretty things, but there was something about your slick and puffy pussy dripping for him that made his heart nearly stop.

“Fuck, please, Joel.” He loved the way you begged.

Joel pressed his mouth to the soaking mess of your sex, moaning at your salty-sweet taste on his tongue. He could never get enough of you, settling one leg over the curve of his shoulder as his other hand pressed your knee to your chest. The sun was shining in his eyes, but he didn’t let it stop him from looking up at your face. He lapped at your cunt with firm, long strokes, practically drinking from you.

In a moment of generosity, he pressed the middle and ring finger of his free hand knuckle-deep in your pussy, pulling a loud and broken moan from your chest. He was smiling into your pussy, suckling at your swollen clit as he pumped his fingers into you.

Your fingers tangled into his dark brown curls, grabbing at them in a way that sent shivers down his spine as you pulled his head flush against you. Joel loved the way your soft thighs pressed against his ears, almost muffling the sweet sounds falling from your pretty lips. Almost. Being outside had made you reckless, the promise of Ellie and the neighbors being gone letting you reach a volume that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Of course, Joel knew better. He ate you like a starving man, proud that every sound you made was heard by the two men–boys–sitting on the other side of the fence.

His knees on the concrete ached, his back protesting being curled so he could keep his mouth pressed tightly against your weepy cunt. The pain was worth it, every second of it was worth it just to make you fall apart. Just to remind the world that you were his and his alone.

Your head had fallen back to rest on the bench, your eyes scrunched closed as you gasped. Joel’s fingers crooked inside of you, finding the spongy spot at the front of your cunt. It made you writhe, the hand keeping you spread apart for him pinning you down and forcing you to be somewhat still as he pressed at that spot mercilessly. His eyes remained on you as much as they could, taking in every heaving breath and the way your breasts moved under the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt.

It was only moments more until you were coming apart at the seams. You’d squirmed out of his hold, your heels digging into his broad back. Your legs clamped around his head, your back nearly broken with an arch. The sound you made was almost wounded, a desperate cry of his name as your legs spasmed and you practically gushed over his hand.

He worked you through the aftershocks, your pussy fluttering deliciously around his thick fingers. Your hold on his hair loosened just enough for him to pull away, mouthing at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You came back to yourself, breathing again as your legs relaxed to rest on his shoulder. He peppered sticky, wet kisses on your inner thighs.

“Joel, oh my god,” you sighed, scrubbing a hand over your face as you panted. A laugh left your chest, making him grin like an idiot as he rested his facial-hair covered cheek against your leg and caught his breath.

“Clean these up for me,” he requested, his soaked fingertips now pressing at her bottom lip. They glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a sticky film coating the entirety of them. You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, your bratty streak coming through before you submitted and opened your mouth to let his fingers slide against your warm tongue.

You sealed your lips around them, sucking your slick off earnestly and rolling your tongue along his digits. “What a good girl, sucking on my fingers like that,” Joel said as he stood, making eye contact with the neighbors before looking back down at you. His knees protested the movement, cracking a bit as he straightened.

He had to check to see if they were paying attention, the blush across their faces visible from across the yard.

A hum against his fingers brought Joel’s attention back to you. You watched him through your thick eyelashes, the sight alone making him feel like he was going to blow his load.

Your hands found the tie at his sweatpants, pulling the bow apart impatiently. You let go of his fingers with a pop, your soft lips shiny with a mix of your spit and slick as you started to pull his sweatpants down. “Wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you said, almost sounding drunk on it as your fingers hooked in the elastic waist.

He couldn’t help his smirk, his hand caressing your cheek and jaw as he looked down at you. He could feel two sets of eyes burning into him as he let the silence hang for a moment. You were being so perfect for him and you didn’t even know the extent of it.

“Nuh uh, not tonight,” Joel said, stooping down to press a wet kiss to your forehead. Your whine of protest made his chest puff up with pride.

He shook his head with a smirk, kneeling down on the cracked concrete again. His poor knees–he would certainly regret the entire escapade tomorrow. Really, he wanted to get you up on his lap and have you ride him until you were crying–but he didn’t want to risk you seeing the neighbors. Or the neighbors seeing any more of you than the back of your head.

Grabbing you by the waist, he pulled you so your entire ass was hanging off the porch swing. The only thing keeping you from falling was his hands and your legs hooking around him for some stability. You were already grabbing at him, fingers twisting in the shirt he still wore. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Uh huh,” you panted desperately, nodding with a frantic look in your eye. “Please, Joel.”

He smiled, pushing his sweatpants down around his thighs and taking his cock into his hand. You moaned as he rubbed the tip of it along the seam of your pussy and pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as the blunt head of his cock caught, Joel filled you with a quick slot of his hips.

Your head fell back, a whine pulling from your throat as you bore down around him. He almost lost his mind right there, no matter how many times you’d had sex you still were so tight. You both stilled, panting and gripping at one another as you become acquainted, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“God, I love this pussy,” Joel grunted, trying to talk you through it as he started thrusting gently. No matter how quiet he was in his normal life, as soon as he felt you squeezing around his cock he started running his mouth. The hinges of the swing creaked a little as it moved back and forth, his hands anchored to your hips.

He took you slow, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. Bitten down grunts and grit teeth were met with your sweet mewls and dulcet moans as he split you apart. One of your hands reached for his, your fingers lacing with his before he pressed your knuckles onto the cushion of the swing. “Wanna hold my hand, sweet girl?” he asked, voice borderline condescending as he did.

You nodded pathetically, gasping every time he rutted inside of you. He’d reduced you to mush, partially formed words dying against your lips as he hit home against the spot inside you that always made your breath lock up in your chest.

“Who do you belong to?” Joel asked, squeezing your hand to get you to come back down to earth. You looked a mess, completely fucked out as you blinked slowly and took a deep breath. It took you a minute to really focus on him, your hand weakly squeezing back.

“You, Joel,” you answered, teeth scraping along your plump lower lip as you fisted the open flannel still draped around your shoulders.

He chuckled darkly, leaning down toward you as he kept up his almost machine-like pace. “Louder, be a good girl,” he murmured, pressing a wet and sloppy kiss to your throat. You clenched around him at the praise, it had always been one of your weaknesses.

“Joel, m’yours,” you gasped, words broken up by the reverb of his thrusts and the slap of his heavy balls against your ass.

He never had reason to doubt that he was who you wanted to be with, but the reassurance helped ground him. The whole week he’d been wondering if he was holding you back, if you actually wanted something else from life. But with the way you were taking his cock? The way you moaned for him? Hell, the way you looked at him was more than enough. There was no mistaking it for anything other than love.

“That’s right, you’re mine.” You shifted under him, the angle of your spine letting him hit deeper inside of you. His hand left your waist to grab the soft cheek of your ass, keeping you steady and supported. “No one else’s, right?”

“Yeah, Joel. Just yours.” The assurance was breathy, your voice faltering in your throat as you started to go rigid. You were looking up at Joel so sweetly, tears starting to glisten in your eyes as you tugged against the fabric of his flannel that you wore on the porch swing that he built you at his house. He had a mean possessive streak, but look at you–so happy to be his.

He lost himself. He worked on pure instinct, pistoning into you as he became blind with the desire to pin you down and fill you. You whined as he slammed into you, his sweaty forehead pressing against your sternum and his hands gripping you tight. He could feel you draw up like a spring beneath him.

You lurched on a wail, your cunt clenching around him so tightly that it almost hurt as you came. Joel moaned in sympathy with you, greedily taking in every expression you made beneath him. You whimpered and mumbled unintelligibly, your grip tightening around the hand you still clasped as your limbs locked up.

Joel lost all semblance of coordination and control, hitching up one of your thighs and driving himself deep into you. Instinct dictated his every move, overriding common sense as he grunted above you like an animal.

He thought his jaw would crack in half from how hard he was clenching it, mumbling nonsense to you through his teeth. There was a lurch deep in his stomach, his abdomen starting to flex as he fell out of his rhythm. It was only a moment more before it felt like his skin was too tight and everything was too hot and he was spilling inside you while groaning your name.

You were so full that you were leaking around him, come dripping down his balls and splattering on the concrete. Both of you were shaking, breathing each other’s air as your foreheads pressed together. Love filled your expression, making him smile tiredly.

You felt for him, your fingertips caressing his jaw as you brought him in for a gentle kiss. You always brought him back, reminded him to be soft with you when he nearly forgot. His tongue licked into your mouth for a moment before he ducked his head and lazily sucked at your breasts, his hips grinding against yours. You both hissed.

“Want me to run a bath for us?” he asked, his voice thick as he mouthed at the skin of your sternum.

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding weakly as your fingers skated up from his beard to curl into his hair. It was sweaty at the nape, curling more violently than before.

He hummed good-naturedly, pulling out of you with a groan before tucking himself back away in his sweatpants. Joel looked down at the mess he made of you, his come already running down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the concrete. He moaned at the sight, even the shitty porn magazines he’d found on supply runs didn’t compare to this.

He helped you back into your shorts, a fist closing your flannel around your chest as you both shakily stood. You were like a newborn fawn, knees knocking together as you leaned into Joel’s chest. He chuckled breathily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and holding you close. A soft I love you was whispered against your temple, a gentle reply following from you.

Joel glanced over the fence as he walked you to the sliding glass door, a proud glint in his eye as he met the shocked stares of your new neighbors. He winked at them, squeezing you tighter before bringing you inside with him.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us x reader #the last of us #my first request!!

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nikkeora · 2 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐬 - p.j

summary; who knew life threatening situations made you reevaluate your love life?

pairing; percy jackson x demigod!fem!reader

word count; 7.5k

warning(s); mild mentions of injury, spoilers for ttc

a/n; i'm guessing you meant the titan's curse? i changed a few things, but i hope this was what you had in mind. if not, feel free to send another request :)

the ending is schist. sorry.

You were on a dark hillside, shrouded in fog. Wisps of haze stuck and clung to your hair and clothes like cat hair, refusing to come off even when you tried to brush it away. Up above, you couldn't see the sky—just a close, heavy darkness, as if you were in a cave. From every direction, the same amount of pressure pushed down on you, like you were hundreds of miles below sea level. The place felt more like a deep-sea cavern than anything.

You felt like you were suffocating.

Thorn was long gone, you could tell. The smell of his disgusting cologne was nowhere to be found. A good thing, you supposed, as it really was rather horrible. On the down side, though, that meant you were completely stranded alone in the middle of nowhere.

"Thorn!" You called. Your own voice made your head pound. Raising a hand up to the back of your head with much more effort than you would like to admit, you felt something warm and sticky matting your hair. You grimaced. "Where are you? Why did you bring me here?"

You waited a minute or two before deciding that you were, in fact, on your own. Standing up only to drop back down, you hissed as you clutched your leg. Looking down at your calf, you gagged. Where one of Thorn's spikes had nicked you, the skin around the cut had turned a greenish-purplish colour, the cut itself scabbing over in a yellow-brown-black mess. He'd said his poison only causes pain; infections were a whole different problem.

You struggled up the hill, trying to reach the top. Maybe you'd be able to see if anything was around here from up high, though you doubted there would be anything for miles around. As you climbed, you vaguely noticed old, broken Greek columns of black marble scattered around, as though something had blasted a huge building to ruins.

Climbing over a section of broken wall, you finally made it to the crest of the hill. What you saw made your heart drop into your shoes.

On the rocky ground lay a boy with messy black hair and a tattered orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. He was crumpled like a soda can, and he seemed to be in pain. The blackness seemed to be thicker around him, the fog swirling hungrily. Squinting your eyes, you could see his eyes screwed shut with the effort of.. well, you couldn't quite tell. Whatever it was, it seemed horrible.

"Percy?" You whispered in shock, making your way toward him. As you walked closer, the air grew thicker and thicker, almost buzzing with electricity and the smell of ozone.

Percy's eyes cracked open when he heard your voice. Then they were wide with panic and relief.

"Y/N!" He called. "Help me! Please!"

You ran forward until you were no more than a few inches away from where he was standing—well, 'standing' is a strong word.. 'trying extremely hard not to be flattened into a Percy pancake' would be more accurate, now that you properly saw the state he was in. His hands were propped up next to his shoulders in an odd manner, like he was trying to hold up something massive and invisible.

Panic jolted into your brain as you registered his words. You reached out to touch his face.. then stopped at the last minute. He looked off; you couldn't tell why. Icy little needles prickled at the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine.

"Please, it's killing me." He said again. You took a step back.

"What happened?" You asked warily. Seeing Percy like this broke your heart, but something just felt wrong.

"They left me here," Percy groaned. You could've sworn his eyes looked almost yellow as he squeezed them shut again. He seemed to be struggling against some invisible curse, as though the fog were squeezing him to death.

Studying him closely again, you shook your head. You were just about to take another couple steps back when Percy's knees buckled. He yelped in surprise and almost toppled, but regained his balance in the last second. His face paled.

In the scarce light, Thalia's pine tree glimmered a soft green hue on one of the beads on his camp necklace. There was no Golden Fleece hanging from its branches.

The darkness above him began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. You rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. You held it somehow—tons of rock. You kept it from collapsing on you and Percy just with your own strength. It was impossible. You shouldn't have been able to do that.

Just as the debris stopped falling, Percy rolled free, gasping. "Thanks." He managed. You clenched your jaw to steel yourself.

"Don't just lay there," you groaned.

Percy caught his breath. His face was covered in sweat and grime. He rose unsteadily.

Then, he flickered. Literally. His whole image flickered like the flame of a candle. You would've just brushed it off as something your brain made up from being put in such a stressful situation, but then it happened again. And again. Eventually, Percy flickered away..

..and Luke stood in his place.

"I knew I could count on you." He said, a crooked smirk twisting his face. He reached for his Camp Half-Blood necklace, and you realized there were glowing green runes etched onto every one of the six beads. Magic. Of course.

"Castellan." You spat, almost forgetting about the crushing weight on your shoulders as white-hot anger made your blood boil. "You prick."

"Nice to see you haven't changed," Luke said. He began to walk away as the trembling blackness threatened to pulverize you.

"Help. Me." You gritted your teeth. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. You knew it was no use; you were grasping at straws. But holding up literal tons of rock can make you do weird things.

"Oh, don't worry," Luke said. "Your help is on the way. It's all part of the plan. In the meantime, try not to die."

The ceiling of darkness began to crumble again, pushing you against the ground.

—

It's amazing how one perceives time when holding literal tons of stone.

At first, every second goes by agonizingly slow. Just when you think you're getting used to the weight, the ceiling cracks some more, piling more rocks on top of you until you're nearly squished like a bug. Once that cycle repeats a dozen or so times, you realize that a couple hours have passed, judging by the members of Kronos's army chatting amongst themselves while they stride by. You'd never been more relieved to hear dracanae making dinner plans.

Luke had said your 'help' was coming. You didn't know what poor soul was going to be trapped here next, but you couldn't help but hope they arrived quickly. As much as you didn't want anyone other than Luke to bear this weight, you were certain you'd die if they didn't. Maybe you could take turns once they arrived.

You were tired. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment. Your bones felt like they were on fire.

In front of you, a throne of black marble had been strategically placed in the shadows so that whoever was sitting on it wasn't really visible unless you got really close. Ugh, villains and their ambiance. It oddly resembled the chair from that one Lincoln statue, albeit a bit smaller in size. Fortunately, you were far enough away from it that you didn't have to look at the ugly face of whoever was on the throne.

Your eyes had been screwed shut for a while when you heard the clanking of chains drawing near. The sound scraped to a stop a couple feet in front of you. You peeled open your eyes to see what was about to go down.

A small girl with auburn hair was shoved forward by a meaty hand. She had chains of celestial bronze binding her hands and feet like some medieval prisoner. Her silvery dress was torn and tattered. Her face and arms were cut in several places, and she was bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods.

A goddess?

"How is our mortal guest?" A male voice boomed. Its force made the ground and the boulders on your shoulders vibrate. Your head pounded in protest. You'd compare it to a bass guitar, but that would be offensive to bass guitars.

Luke emerged from the shadows. He ran and knelt beside you, then looked back at the unseen man. "She's fading. We must hurry." You vaguely wished you could bite his hand off.

Hey, he's in range, just under the rocks.

You were tempted to just drop everything and let it crush everyone to death. You decided against it, only because of the goddess in chains. There was no way she'd be able to escape.

"You heard the boy," said the man in the shadows. "Decide!"

Shut up, you thought irritably. The world buzzed with every word he spoke, and you were not a fan of that.

The girl's eyes flashed with anger. You supposed she must have been either a minor goddess or extremely drained, because she didn't seem able to just will the chains to explode or make herself disappear. Maybe the chains prevented her, or some magic about this dark, horrible place.

The goddess looked at you, and her expression changed to concern and outrage. "How dare you torture a maiden like this!"

Maiden? You mused. The ceiling piled more boulders on you, and you almost crumpled, barely regaining your balance in time. Must be Artemis. You decided, groaning weakly. From what you recalled, Artemis was the protector of women. Besides, silver.

"She will die soon," Luke said. "You can save her."

Like you'd care.

"Free my hands," Artemis said.

Don't be stupid, you caught yourself thinking. You thanked the fact that the gods couldn't read minds. Well, most of them, anyway.

Luke strided over to her. He brought out his sword, Backbiter, and broke the goddess's handcuffs in one swift strike. You promised yourself you'd use the damn thing to stick him in the stomach if you ever got the chance.

Artemis ran over to you and took the burden from your shoulders. You collapsed on the ground like a pile of bones. You felt your spine creak as the pressure was taken off of it, and your limbs wouldn't stop trembling. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the bile from rising, but even that took so much effort.

The man in the shadows chuckled. "You are as predictable as you were easy to beat, Artemis." Oh, hey, you were right.

"You surprised me," Artemis said, straining under her burden. "It will not happen again."

"Indeed it will not," the man said. "Now you are out of the way for good! I knew you could not resist helping a young maiden. That is, after all, your specialty, my dear."

Your breathing grew more and more ragged with each word the man spoke. You felt something hot trickle down the back of your neck, leaving chills in its wake. Recalling your head wound from earlier, you grimaced. Had it not patched itself up? How much blood had you lost? Thinking about it made you dizzy.

Artemis groaned. "You know nothing of mercy, you swine."

"On that," the man said, "we can agree. Luke, you may kill the girl now."

Oh, you complete piece of–

Luke hesitated. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "She–she may yet be useful, sir.. Further bait."

"Bah! You truly believe that?"

"Yes, General. They will come for her. I'm sure."

The man considered. "Then the dracaenae can guard her here. Assuming she does not die from her injuries, you may keep her alive until winter solstice. After that, if our sacrifice goes as planned, her life will be meaningless. The lives of all mortals will be meaningless."

Luke gathered up your listless body and carried you away from the goddess. You would have stabbed him, but you weren't in any state to do much more than breathe, and even that was a bit of a struggle.

"You will never find the monster you seek," Artemis said. "Your plan will fail."

"How little you know, my young goddess," the man in the shadows said. "Even now, your darling attendants begin their quest to find you. They shall play directly into my hands. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a long journey to make. We must greet your Hunters and make sure their quest is… challenging."

A sudden surge of annoyance flooded your brain. It was always like this, wasn't it? The 'bad guy' knew everything while your friends had to wander, dealing with every freakshow that sprung up on the way. It wasn't fair.

The man's laughter echoed in the darkness, shaking the ground until it seemed the whole cavern ceiling would collapse. You suddenly sympathized with how Zeus must have felt when Athena was banging on his skull, demanding to be let out. It felt like you had a goddess trapped up there. You wished someone would take an axe to it. Not like anyone here would have much aversion to that.

Luke took you a little while away from where Artemis was. Among the ruins, there was a semi-intact room with about two or three walls, depending on how tall you considered a wall to be. He placed you with your back against one of them. You glared at him from where you sat.

"Don't look at me like that," he snapped.

"Rot in Tartarus." You replied. Surprisingly, your voice worked. It sounded like metal against metal, but it worked.

Luke rolled his eyes. Then, his expression softened, just a little. "The gods are using you," he said bitterly. You rolled your eyes. Not this again. "Do you honestly think they care what happens to you?"

"I don't give a flying fuck what the gods care about," you said. Luke raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. "I care about my friends. I care about my life. You know, all the things you used to have before you stabbed us in the back and ran away."

With a bit of effort, you turned your head and spat on the ground. "Coward." You muttered, your hand wiping your face to get rid of all the grime. It didn't do much other than smudge it, really. "Couldn't even face us after your little stunt."

You could tell he was just itching to draw his sword from the way his hand twitched. You smirked. He was just too easy to rile up.

"I could kill you, here and now." He threatened. Geez, his villain talk needed some work.

"Go for it." You said, turning your head to look him in the eye again. Seeing the scar under his right, you cursed whatever dragon had caused it for not taking out his entire eyeball. Luke's expression changed from anger to irritation as he took a step back.

"I don't have to deal with you right now.." He muttered, turning away and walking off. Half a dozen dracanae came up from behind you, four of them taking positions on your left, right, and center while the other two continuously slithered in circles around you.

"Turn tail and run," you jeered. It was quiet, but it was enough to make him hear you, from the looks of it. His posture stiffened as the words left your tongue, making him seem rather huffy as he marched out of sight.

When the top of Luke's head disappeared, you felt all the strength leave your body. Your need to poke and prod at him had been the only reason you'd even been able to talk, you were sure. Your eyelids felt heavier than the cave ceiling. It wouldn't hurt to just close them for a moment or two..

You slept like the dead.

—

Surprisingly, it wasn't all that long until Percy came around, simply because the days blended into one. The sun never rose here, which meant your biological clock was the only thing that told you what time it could possibly be. The dracanae assigned to be your guards—three batches of six, from what you could tell by some of their features—weren't really the chattiest of their kind.

Your head wound had turned crusty and gross during the time you were kept here. Your calf wasn't in much better condition. You were shivering most of the time, cold sweat drenching your clothes and making them feel uncomfortable and disgusting to be in. The world spun without any prompts now.

You were messing with your roughly once-a-day rations when Luke came to grab you. It was the first time you'd seen him since he left you here. He looked paler and weaker than the first time you'd seen him here, and that was impressive considering he had just gotten out of getting crushed to death back then. Even in your condition, you had no doubt you could have taken him if the guards weren't here. Maybe if you had your weapon...

Despite that, he had a smug smirk on his face that you would've loved to slap off.

"Get up," he ordered. You pointed at your tray.

"I'm not done with my slop." You replied. In truth, you'd never touch the stuff, maybe taking one or two glops out of it just to keep yourself alive before lobbing the rest at your guards.

Luke snapped his fingers at the dracanae. Two of them slid over to either side of you and harshly lifted you up by each of your arms. You let out a disgruntled groan. The slop you'd just choked down threatened to make a reappearance as everything turned blurry and twisty. You tried not to sway on your feet.

"I said, get. Up." He sneered. You made a face at him in return.

"Fine." You snapped. You pulled your arms out of the snake women's grasp, only for Luke to cuff your hands behind your back. You opened your mouth to complain, but he stuffed a gag in it. You felt like you were about to hurl. The thing tasted like sandpaper and mouldy gym socks.

He dragged you alongside him, walking—well, limping, in your case—downhill and circling the lower points before climbing his way back up. There, he joined half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos and a hulking man in a brown silk suit. You supposed this was the one who'd been sitting on the throne when Artemis was brought in. You waited for your vision to clear a bit before taking note of his appearance.

His skin was light brown, and his dark hair was slicked back in a (in your opinion) rather wet-dog-like fashion. He had a regal expression; a cold, proud look in his grey eyes, like a CEO who ran one of those huge companies that were responsible for the ice caps melting.

"My lady!" Someone cried at the top of the hill. The Hulk-man gestured with his hand for his forces to follow him up the hill. Ugh, villains and their grand entrances, too.

Luke pushed you forward as he unsheathed Backbiter. Once you reached the crest of the hill, he pointed the blade at your neck.

From here, you could see a small group of people who were definitely not a part of Kronos's army. There was Percy, Thalia, and another girl who was kneeling at Artemis's side. You grimaced. None of them looked like they were in much of a shape to fight. Especially the new girl—you could see the dark colour of blood soaking through her silvery clothes. The getup looked somewhat familiar.. where had you seen that before? Her skin, which you assumed under better circumstances would be a coppery brown, was slowly being bleached.

"Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." Artemis groaned. Her voice was strained. She was drenched in sweat. The ceiling threatened to pile more rocks on her as one or two new cracks appeared.

Despite the goddess's warning, the girl tugged stubbornly at her chains. Of course, they didn't budge. You could see she was trembling, but whether that was from the blood loss or from crying, you weren't too sure. She really needed a medic.

"Ah, how touching." Hulk-man said.

Points for a moderate opening line, I guess.

The three turned around. Percy and Thalia raised their weapons as New Girl opted to position herself between Artemis and Hulk-man. Ah, must be a Hunter. You'd seen the pamphlet Annabeth had.

Your eyes met Percy's as he scanned the crowd. When he took in what was going on, the look of anger that took over his features was like nothing you'd seen before on him. The boy looked just about ready to commit war crimes.

As touching as that was, all you wanted was for him to get the hell out of here. Hulk-man, as much as calling him that made him sound ridiculous, wasn't one to be taken lightly, you could tell.

"Luke," Thalia snarled. "Let her go."

Luke smiled thinly. "That is the General's decision, Thalia. But it's good to see you again." He said. Thalia looked like she was ready to murder him, which she probably was. Honestly, same.

Thalia spat at him. The gag stifled your laugh. Luke rolled his eyes and pressed the blade of his sword harder against your throat. You tried not to wince as it cut shallowly through your skin. You could just see Percy's grip tightening on Riptide.

Hulk-man—'The General', whatever—chuckled. "So much for old friends. And you, Zoë. It's been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you."

New Girl—whom you could only assume was Zoë—clenched her jaw. Her face was pale, and she didn't look like she was in a much better condition than Luke, which was saying something. Huh, she and the General looked kinda similar..

"Do not respond," Artemis groaned. "Do not challenge him."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "You're Atlas?"

Ah. Oh. Wait—what?

The General glanced at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."

"You're not going to hurt Zoë." Percy said. "I won't let you."

The General sneered. "You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter."

Percy frowned. "A family matter?"

"Yes," Zoë said bleakly. "Atlas is my father."

Percy's eyes flickered between Zoë and Atlas, taking in the new information. It was easy to see the family resemblance, even if one of them was an evil titan overlord and another was a Hunter of Artemis. His frown deepened as he made the same connections.

"Let Artemis go," Zoë demanded. She struggled to her feet, the look in her eyes so close yet so different from Atlas's.

Atlas walked closer to the chained goddess. "Perhaps you'd like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest."

No, no, no, no, no. You thought. Look at the state you're in. You'll die.

Zoë opened her mouth to speak, but Artemis said, "No! Do not offer, Zoë! I forbid you."

Atlas smirked. He knelt next to Artemis and tried to touch her face, but the goddess bit at him, almost taking off his fingers. Pity, if only he were slower.

"Hoo-hoo," Atlas chuckled. "You see, daughter? Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility."

Percy looked at you. Your eyes flickered between his and Zoë's bow. In situations like these, your philosophy was simple: first move, first kill. Whoever took the first shot was going to result the first casualty, and you hoped your friends were smart enough to know that by now.

Atlas was in a somewhat vulnerable position. If Zoë fired now, he'd have to take a second to stand. You bet it would take Luke by surprise, too. After all, if she was Atlas's daughter, she must be thousands of years old, with that much experience.

Take. A. Shot.

Percy just stood there, staring at you. His eyes lingered on the top of your head. Thalia muttered something to him that you didn't quite catch. Geez, was the wound really that bad? Could he even see it from there?

As if on cue, you stumbled, suddenly feeling like you were standing on a surfing board. You hissed weakly as the movement made Luke's sword slip across your neck. A trickle of blood slowly made its way down to your shirt.

"I don't understand," Percy said. His voice was slightly forced. "Why can't Artemis just let go of the sky?"

Atlas laughed. Ugh, shut up. The sound made your head pound even more than before. "How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape." Atlas smiled. "Unless someone else takes it from you."

He approached Percy and Thalia, studying them. His back was turned to Zoë. Take a shot. "So these are the best heroes of the age, eh? Not much of a challenge."

"Fight us," he said. "And let's see."

"Have the gods taught you nothing? An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. I will have Luke crush you instead."

Luke looks like he'd fall over if you looked at him too hard, you thought. Then you internally groaned at yourself for being held hostage by him in that state. Ugh, being helpless felt gross.

"So you're another coward," Percy said.

Atlas stiffened. You were sure he would've punched Percy straight in the head if he wasn't so prideful. With difficulty, he turned his attention to Thalia.

"As for you, daughter of Zeus, it seems Luke was wrong about you." He said smoothly, although you could hear the clear irritation in his voice.

"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that he somehow looked even worse than he did just a couple moments ago. Beads of sweat made their way down his forehead (ew), and he spoke every word as if it were painful. You thanked whatever was the reason for his pain. "Thalia, you can still join us. Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"

He waved his hand, and next to Thalia, a pool of water appeared: a pond ringed in black marble, big enough for a small seal. Percy took one look at it, then stared for a few moments like he was in a trance. He then shook his head a little and looked back at you with a rather stupid, blank look on his face. He looked like he'd broken his brain by thinking too hard, an expression you knew all too well from sitting next to him in English Lit.

"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke persisted. "And you will be more powerful than the gods."

"Luke…" Her voice was full of pain. "What happened to you?"

"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods? Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"

Like the Titans were going to be any better. Could he not see that he'd be dead as soon as Kronos rose to the throne?

Thalia shook her head. "Free Y/N. Let her go."

"If you join me," Luke promised, "it can be like old times. Annabeth will see our side eventually. The three of us together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree…"

His voice faltered. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."

Okay, so maybe he did realize his life was in danger here. You weren't sure what he meant, but the fear in his voice sounded real enough. For one reason or another, his life depended on Thalia's joining his cause. You, for one, couldn't bring yourself to care about him after everything he'd done. You were afraid Thalia might, though.

"Do not, Thalia," Zoë warned. "We must fight them."

Luke waved his hand again, and a fire appeared. A bronze brazier, just like the one at camp. A sacrificial flame.

"Thalia," Percy said. "No."

You held your breath. Whatever they were talking about, it was clear you were out of the loop. But one thing was for sure—Luke, and by extension Kronos, desperately wanted Thalia to summon this Ophiotaurus thing, which meant you had to hope desperately that she wouldn't.

Behind you, a quiet, high-pitched humming noise grew louder as the air grew warmer. You saw a golden light cast on the boulders, presumably from Kronos's sarcophagus. As it did, you saw images in the mist all around you: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful palace rising around you, made of fear and shadow.

"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promised, in a voice so strained it was hardly his. "Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."

Debatable.

He pointed toward the ocean, and Percy's expression turned into one of slight horror. With the whole being held at swordpoint and all, you couldn't look at whatever it was he was so afraid of, but it must have been horrible if it scared Percy like that.

"This is only a taste of what is to come," Luke said. "Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood. And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help."

For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitated. She gazed at Luke, her eyes full of pain, as if the only thing she wanted in the world was to believe him. Then she leveled her spear. "You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore."

"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleaded. "Please. Don't make me… Don't make him destroy you."

Percy looked back at you. You nodded slightly, hoping he'd get the message already. He then looked to Thalia and Zoë, as if he were steeling himself for the fight to come.

"Now," he said.

Together, they charged.

Thalia went straight for Luke. The hideous face of Medusa glared at you as she ran, making you stand frozen in fear. Behind you, you heard panicked hissing and a loud thump as the dracanae ran away.

Despite his sickly appearance, Luke was still quick with his sword. He snarled like a wild animal and counterattacked. When his sword, Backbiter, met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, frying the air with yellow tendrils of power.

As Backbiter left your throat, you did the least heroic thing you could think of.

You ran.

Tucking yourself behind a large boulder, you tried to wait out the battle. In your current state, you'd be a liability rather than an asset. From this new position, you could see wave after wave of monsters marching from the Princess Andromeda and up the mountain.

You hated that you could do nothing but hope that your friends would make it out alive. Preferably before the army reached the top.

"Die, little hero," Atlas said. You had a feeling he was talking about Percy. Your heart dropped a hundred miles below.

Screw this. You had to do something. Now.

Finding a jagged spot in the boulder you were hiding behind, you maneuvered yourself into a position where you could somehow strike your hands downward and theoretically break your cuffs on the rock. Assuming they weren't made of celestial bronze, that is. After about three tries and one painful miscalculation, the chain finally broke, and you ripped the gag from your mouth, spitting to get rid of the taste.

When you peered around the boulder, the fight was complete mayhem. There was Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fought. And a blur of silver—Artemis?

She had two wicked hunting knives, each as long as her arm, and she slashed wildly at the Titan, dodging and leaping with unbelievable grace. She seemed to change form as she maneuvered. She was a tiger, a gazelle, a bear, a falcon. Or perhaps that was just your fevered brain.

Zoë shot arrows at her father, aiming for the chinks in his armor. He roared in pain each time one found its mark, but they affected him like bee stings. He just got madder and kept fighting.

Wait, if Artemis was out fighting...

Who was holding the sky?

Where was Percy?

Looking over to the dreaded spot, you saw Percy trying not to get crushed under the weight of the sky. His eyes were screwed shut, concentrating on anything and everything but the burden on his shoulders. Right before your eyes, you could've sworn a lock of his hair was turning grey.

Oh, hell no.

Not really thinking, you streaked across the battlefield with surprising speed. Rolling under arrows and narrowly avoiding Atlas's javeline once, you reached Percy, who was about to pass out. You rolled under the boulders—which you now saw were actually dark, heavy clouds—and braced yourself on your good leg, kneeling down. Reaching up with your hands, you took the sky once again.

Every cell in your body screamed in protest. The pounding in your head was worse than what Zeus felt in Athena's origin story; you were sure of it. You felt like the vertebrae in your spine were being welded together by a blowtorch.

Fortunately, though, two people holding the sky was evidently easier than doing it alone.

"What the–" You vaguely heard Percy say. He was cut off by a blood-curdling scream. You managed to open your eyes and saw Zoë leap between her father and Artemis, shooting an arrow straight into the Titan's forehead, where it lodged like a unicorn's horn. Atlas bellowed in rage. He swept aside his daughter with the back of his hand, sending her flying into the black rocks.

"Zoë!" Percy shouted. He looked frantically between you and the direction she flew. As much as he wanted to go help her, he didn't try to move, afraid you wouldn't be able to handle the full burden of the sky.

The cold weight of dread settled in your stomach. Zoë didn't get back up.

Then Atlas turned on Artemis with a look of triumph on his face.

Artemis seemed to be wounded. She didn't get up.

"The first blood in a new war," Atlas gloated. And he stabbed downward.

Just then, a voice spoke in your head. Get ready, Artemis told you. You realized she was leading Atlas closer to where you knelt. With great difficulty, you turned your head to meet Percy's eyes. You could tell Artemis had told him the same thing.

"Go." You said, your voice strained. You tried to tell him the goddess's plan, but your voice wouldn't work anymore, so instead you looked frantically between Atlas and the sky. Percy hesitated for a split second before ducking and rolling out from under the clouds.

As fast as thought, Artemis grabbed Atlas's javelin shaft. It hit the earth right next to her and she pulled backward, using the javelin like a lever, kicking the Titan Lord and sending him flying over her.

You saw him coming down on top of you, and you loosened your grip on the sky. And as Atlas slammed into you, you didn't try to hold on. You let yourself be pushed out of the way and rolled for all you were worth.

The weight of the sky dropped onto Atlas's back, almost smashing him flat until he managed to get to his knees, struggling to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it was too late.

"Noooooo!" He bellowed so hard it shook the mountain. "Not again!"

Atlas was trapped under his old burden.

As for you, you didn't try to stand. Odd as it was, you could feel no part of your body and every single atom at the same time. You felt like you were literally burning up. Your head felt like someone was taking a dull axe to it over, and over, and over. Your leg felt like it was poisoned all over again.

After that, you don't remember much else. Hard to when you're unconscious.

—

Things were kinda hazy after that. You faintly remember waking up on a marble floor, a good-looking guy with a perfect tan and gold curls leaning over you. You thought it was Will, but this guy looked a lot older, and more golden, somehow.

"There you go, kid," he said, smiling widely at someone next to you. His teeth were so white, you were surprised it didn't make your head hurt worse. Wait.. did it even hurt at all? "God of medicine, at your service."

"Thanks." You heard Percy's voice mutter. He sounded relieved, but there was a bit of a point to his tone. Golden Guy—Apollo, you assumed—smirked knowingly and stood up, teleporting out of sight.

"Now for the Ophiotaurus," a voice said. Maybe Artemis. You fell asleep before you could hear much more of the conversation.

—

The next time you woke up, it lasted a lot longer. The familiar scent of the infirmary prompted you to open your eyes. When you did, the sight made you let out a breathless laugh. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting warm sunlight in patterns across the white sheets of the bed. On the windowsill, a small collection of potted plants sprouted soft green shoots.

When you tried to move your hand, you found that a slight weight held it down. Someone took a sharp breath, and their fingers tightened around your hand.

"Oh, you're awake." Percy said. You sat up. His face looked a mess. A couple scars here and there and some bruises (all covered in some sort of balm), plus dark circles like he hadn't had a proper sleep in days. His shoulders sagged as he scanned yours. "Thank the gods."

You must have looked confused, because he straightened up and started explaining everything that had happened at the mountain, then at Olympus. Mr. Chase was, surprisingly, not that bad. Something about Artemis's Santa Claus sleigh. Zoë had passed on. Apparently, you were an expert pegasus rider in your sleep. Golden Guy was, in fact, Apollo—though Percy seemed a bit miffed when you called him that—and was the one who had healed you before you came back to Camp. Will had still insisted you stayed in the infirmary for a day or two so that he could check on you to make sure you were alright.

"You really had me scared, you know?" He said, his cheeks growing red. "You were so dumb, taking the sky when you were like that. I had it."

"Yeah, sure you did, Ariel." You snorted. Then you squinted at him. "Your hair's grey," you informed.

"So's yours," Percy rolled his eyes. "Dude, I was scared you were gonna die on me, and the first thing you say is that my hair's grey?"

"Well it is," you simply said. He let out an exasperated sigh, and you put a finger on his forehead to push his head up. "You didn't have anything to worry about. Not gonna get rid of me that easily, Jackson."

He laughed, but then trailed off. He fiddled with your fingers a bit. You felt your ears grow warm as you realized he was still holding your hand.

"Seriously though... I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you were gone because I let you take all of it. The sky."

"Yeah, well, I'm still here." You said softly. He smiled a little.

He took a breath, then paused, as if deciding whether or not to say what he was thinking out loud. "You know why I was so scared?"

"Because you thought your best friend was about to die?"

"No." He said. Then he quickly backtracked, "well, yeah, but not just that. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to tell you..."

He took another breath.

"I like you. Like, like-like you. A lot, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your face flushed as his sea green eyes met yours, suddenly very interested in the linen sheets of your cot.

"I've been in love with you since we were kids," Percy chuckled. "I used to make my mom pick out my clothes when we went to your place so that I'd look good."

If your face wasn't red before, it certainly was now. You grabbed Percy's hand in yours a little tighter and laughed. "You know, I used to make you watch all those Disney movies so that you'd kinda get the hint that I liked you," you mused. Percy perked up. "All the girl-gets-the-guy stuff. Now I kinda figure, I should've made you play Barbie and Ken with me instead."

"What, make me Ken?"

"Nah. You'd be Barbie." You laughed at his expression. He huffed as if he found the idea nuts. "I'd be Ken. We'd be married, maybe have a horse."

"A horse?"

"Hey, I lost all the tiny Barbie puppies!"

"Well," he chuckled. You could've sworn his eyes sparkled. "In that case, you'll be happy to know, since we were kids, I planned to marry you someday."

"Oh yeah?" He hummed in confirmation. "What did it look like?"

"I dunno. Like the first thing that pops up when you type 'wedding' on Google."

"Wow. Way to be generic, Perce." You deadpanned. He punched your arm lightly.

"Hey, I was like six!" He said defensively.

A light quiet settled over the two of you as you looked down, avoiding Percy's expectant stare and fiddling with his fingers instead. He had that stupid grin on his face, which you'd come to adore over the years you'd known him.

"So..what now?" You asked, slowly lifting your gaze to meet his. His face flushed, and this time, it was he who turned away. He muttered something under his breath—a prayer?—and looked back at you. He looked like he wanted to run away.

"D'you want to go to the fireworks with me? Like, as a date?" He asked. You giggled.

"That's like, six months away." You laughed. He shrugged.

"Yeah. I need six months to get ready, obviously." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, obviously. My bad." You held back your laughter long enough to accept. "I'd love to go with you."

Percy was just about to say more when Will burst out of the 'doctor's office'. The boy stood up so suddenly that he almost knocked his chair over. Will walked over and shooed Percy away.

"Yeah, yeah, we all like each other. Can you please let me work now?" He said, and Percy's ears burned bright red. He muttered a quick see you later and practically ran out of the infirmary.

"We thought he'd never tell you," Will commented, checking the back of your head.

"We?"

"Uh, probably, what, half the camp? Maybe more," he said absentmindedly. Giving you a once-over, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. "Dad did a good job on you."

He gave you the go-ahead a minute or two later. As you walked out the door, you saw Percy talking animatedly to Annabeth near the volleyball court, his back towards you. The blonde had an amused smile on her face, and when she noticed you, she put her hands on Percy's shoulders and spun him around. Catching your eye, the boy gave you a small wave and a smile. You waved back, a grin of your own on your lips.

With his slight blush and bright eyes, it was hard to believe a doomsday prophecy was in his hands.

The end of the world never felt so far away.

#percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson books #pjo imagine #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n

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pinksturniolo · 7 months ago

Text

If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.

Content warnings (not in every chapter): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, spanking, use of alcohol

word count: 3,887

written in first person pov

Spring 2023

I never liked L.A. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice city. Besides the cost of living being outrageously expensive, the weather was almost always nice and there were a lot of fun things to do. It’s the people that are insufferable. The increasingly large number of influencers and rude celebrities make me want to move away to a small town where nobody knows me, somewhere with a lot of nature and miles of land between you and your neighbor.

I grew up in Pasadena, moving closer to the city after my parents divorced and my mom switched me to a different high school. After I graduated, I got a job in merchandising downtown working for a clothing brand. It was always my dream to work in fashion and I was lucky to be in a spot I wanted.

Working in the fashion industry and living in L.A., I was bound to end up in the circle of today’s social media stars and to be quite honest, there were only a handful of people I actually liked. One of my coworkers, Jackson, became my best friend and he was very outgoing, always dragging me along to influencer parties and events. He had a lot of connections which were good for work but as far as I was concerned, I tried my best not to get involved with anyone on a personal level.

But life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop. Jackson introduced me to Mark who was also in the same line of work we were in. We instantly clicked, the conversation flowing easily. He was attractive, funny and nice. It didn’t take long before we became exclusive and our friends were over the moon, saying how good of a couple we made.

A few months had passed, and I was content. But there was something missing. He was a good boyfriend and treated me well, but I just didn’t feel… passion. I didn’t feel those fireworks. That heart racing, mind bending, butterfly inducing feelings that were portrayed in every romance movie or book you’ve seen or read.

The only person who ever made me feel like that was Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt and his brothers Chris and Nick happened to be really good friends with Mark, and I was introduced to them once me and him started dating. I found them charming, hilarious and some of the nicest influencers I had met so far. Me, Jackson, and Nick became inseparable, hanging out almost every weekend.

Mine and Matt’s friendship started out innocent. He was a little shy at first, but it didn’t take long for him to open up around me and we found that we had many things in common.

Maybe more than I have with Mark.

The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. And it was rarely ever one on one interactions. Most of the time, we all hung out in a group setting but I found myself looking to him when something was funny or observing his reaction when we were watching a movie, and hanging on to every word he said when he joined in on conversations.

As much as I tried to deny the fact that I had developed a huge crush, I couldn’t help that my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him.

Thoughts of his smile, his laugh, his eyes. The way he looked in the mirror when he fixed his hair, the way his pinky lifted from the cup whenever he took a sip of his drink. I found myself wandering how well his lips would fit against mine. How his hands would feel on my body, the sound of his voice panting in my ear if he was on top of me-

It was sinful. I felt horrible and disgusting and I’m sure there was a special place in hell reserved for me.

So, I tried to back off as much as I could. Whenever Mark went to the triplet’s house to hang out like we did almost every week, I made some excuse that I didn’t feel good, or I just wanted some alone time. He was a little concerned at first but then stopped questioning it after a while which I was thankful for.

Matt and Nick constantly blew up my phone, asking why I suddenly stopped coming over and I kept my responses as dry as possible. Even Chris called me a couple times, but I ignored it. I felt bad but I knew it was for the best.

I wanted to respect Mark because even though it pained me to finally admit to myself that I wasn’t in love with him, I did care for him, and I didn’t want to break up. We had only been dating for a few months so obviously we weren’t that serious yet to consider moving in together or even discuss marriage but that didn’t mean that he deserved for his girlfriend to lust over his best friend.

And then one night, when they were all at Top Golf, Jackson called me. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I ignored his call, so reluctantly, I picked up.

“Y/N! Get your bum ass over here, I’m sick of you avoiding us. You’ve had enough alone time. You need to come back to reality.” He scolded.

“Jackson, I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“You sure about that? Cause I could argue there is a certain someone-“

“Jackson.”

“Y/N. I’m serious. I miss you, everyone misses you.”

“I miss you guys too…”

“Okay, so why can’t you come out?”

“It’s… complicated.” I sighed in frustration, unsure how much longer I could keep dodging the situation without explaining it properly. I had a feeling Jackson knew why. He was my best friend, and best friends always knew.

“Complicated how?” He pressed.

There were a few seconds of silence as I tried to find the right words to say, but I just couldn’t come up with anymore good excuses and I knew I was fucked.

“Well, I’m not hearing any good explanation, so if you’re not at the triplet’s house by the time we get there, I’m literally coming over there and dragging you out of the house myself.”

Click.

Yeah, I was fucked.

I walked up the driveway to the entrance of the house, my heart racing and legs feeling like Jello. I really needed to get my shit together. I hadn’t seen Matt in a while, and I found myself extremely nervous as I entered the front door. I walked up the stairs, seeing everyone at the kitchen table. Everyone except Mark and Matt.

I smiled, setting my purse and keys on the table and greeted everyone.

“Mark said he had to finish up some work at the office. Something about a deadline that was coming up soon.” Jackson said, noticing the curious expression on my face.

“Okay…” I replied. That was weird, he’s usually good at communicating with me and I had assumed he had come back with everyone after Top Golf.

Jackson just shrugged, taking another bite of his chicken finger. Once I saw the familiar styrofoam box with red lettering, my jaw dropped and I put a hand over my heart, acting like I was just utterly betrayed.

“Wow, you guys got Cane’s without me?” I asked.

Chris rolled his eyes while Nick gave me a dirty look. “Excuse me, you haven’t been here in fucking 6 months.” He spoke.

“Don’t be dramatic, Nick. It’s been 3 weeks.” I replied.

“I’ll save you my last piece of toast if you promise to stay and watch a movie tonight?” Nick said, giving me puppy dog eyes.

My heart dropped and I gave him a soft smile. “Maybe.” I replied.

“Don’t get your hopes up, it took some threatening just to get her over here.” Jackson added, glaring at me.

“Whatever, you’ll only be breaking Matt’s heart if you don’t stay.” Chris said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Did it really matter to Matt that much whether I was here or not?

Chris started to speak but then Nick stomped on his foot which caused him to hunch over in pain. “What the fuck dude?” Chris said, rubbing his hurt foot. I raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jackson. What the hell is wrong with them?

He simply shrugged again, a small smirk on his face and went back to eating. His nonchalant attitude was starting to bother me. I was definitely having a talk with him later.

“What he means is… Matt misses you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls. And don’t get me started on that. You have a lot of making up to do.” Nick said, referring to the fact I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.

“I know, I’m sorry… Where is Matt anyways?” I asked, looking around.

“He’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” Nick replies, and I get nervous again, butterflies starting to form in my stomach.

I nod and walk away, towards Matt’s room.

I had only been in his room a few times and it was usually with Nick or Jackson, never just me and him. It wasn’t even a big deal but for some reason, the thought of being alone in his room with him scared me.

I knocked on his door softly, waiting for his response. After a few moments of silence, I knocked again, calling his name quietly. “Matt?”

He still didn’t answer. I was about to give up when I heard him respond, “Come in.”

I slowly cracked the door and could see it was dark in his room, the only light coming from the TV. I walked in and saw that he was in his bed, submerged under his comforter, only his head peeking out. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were barely open.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I said and started to move back towards the door.

“No no, its okay. I needed to get up anyway.” He rasped, sleep still thick in his voice.

He sat up slightly, moving the blanket down and I tried not to stare because he didn’t have a shirt on, and I was getting a full view of the tattoos on his arm. Even though he had just woken up, he still looked so handsome.

He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting me to sit down. My heart is still beating faster than usual as I sit on the edge of his bed, making sure there was more than enough space between us.

“All that golfing got you tired?” I ask teasingly, smiling at him. He laughs, a sound that I hadn’t realized I had missed so much.

“To be honest, I’ve been tired all the time lately.” He responds, running a hand through his hair.

“Me too.” I say, looking down to my lap. This small talk was killing me.

“Is that why you’ve been declining my calls? You sleeping too much?” He gets straight to the point, and I can feel his eyes on me.

I laugh nervously, unsure how to tell him the real reason I’ve been avoiding him.

“I’ve just been really busy with work. You know how that goes.” I say, hoping he won’t question me further.

He hums and nods his head, as I finally make eye contact with him. “I don’t really believe you… But that’s fine. I just hope it’s not because I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, of course not. It’s not that you’re doing anything wrong…” I reply, stopping before I say anything I regret. You’re just consuming my every thought and desire.

“So, it is something I’m doing then?” he asks, wanting me to clarify.

My words seem to get stuck in my throat as I look at him, unsure how to even answer that. His eyes are burning into mine, making my heart race faster.

“No.” I simply reply, and he raises his brows at my dry response.

“Yes.” I blurt, and his face is now plastered with confusion and hint of amusement as I get flustered, pinching my nose and closing my eyes in frustration.

“Yes?” He asks.

“No- fuck, I meant-“ I start and Matt interrupts me, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yes or no, Y/N?” He says, now enjoying the fact I was making a fool of myself.

“No, Matt. It has nothing to do with you, okay?” I say, getting up from his bed. Lies.

“Now can we go watch a movie before Nick starts throwing a fit?”

✿

A couple hours and three bags of popcorn later, we were all sat on the couch as the credits of Edward Scissorhands roll on the screen. I checked my phone and to my surprise, Mark still hasn’t texted or called. I’m sure he’ll just call me in the morning.

Jackson yawns and stretches his arms out in his seat next to me, announcing it’s time for him to go home. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He says to me, and I nod as he gives his goodbyes to Matt and Nick. Chris passed out halfway through the movie until me and Nick started spraying whipped cream smiley faces on his forehead, annoying him enough to make him storm off to his room.

Once Jackson is gone, Nick scoots next to me and throws his arm on the back of the couch behind me, giving me a suggestive look.

“Sooo… are you gonna spill the tea? What’s up with you and Mark?” He asks, nudging my shoulder.

I furrow my brows in confusion as his question. “What do you mean?”

I can feel Matt staring at me from his spot across the other side of the couch.

“Well, Mark barely even mentioned you tonight and then he randomly left saying he had to finish up some stuff at work. And I’m guessing he didn’t even tell you because you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for his call.” Nick says.

“Wow, you’re incredibly observant.” I respond and I hear Matt chuckle.

“I know. Also, that would explain why you’ve been MIA the past few weeks. Are you guys gonna break up or something?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.

“But something is going on with you two?” Nick questions.

I hesitate and look at Matt, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed, his legs spread slightly in his sweatpants. “Please stop beating around the bush, Y/N. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” He speaks.

I sigh, throwing my head back and tucking my hair behind my ears. “Okay. Look, we’re not breaking up. But I’ve just felt different recently… like… I don’t know, like I don’t feel the same way about him like when we first met. Maybe we rushed into things too quickly. He has been working a lot lately and I just feel… lonely.” Empty. Bored. Unsatisfied.

Nick hums in understanding, tilting his head. “See, that makes sense. You guys have zero chemistry. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. Right, Matt?” He says, looking to him.

“Zero.” He replies instantly. His eyes have not left me since we started this conversation, and it makes me want to melt into the couch.

Suddenly, Nick gets a face time call and jumps up. “Shit, I have to take this. But we’re not done with this conversation, okay?” He tells me and I smile at him as he walks off upstairs.

I look at Matt, who now stands up and walks over to me, sitting down and putting his arm on the back of the couch, the same spot Nick had it in just moments earlier.

The way they switched places so quickly had my head spinning and the closeness of him next to me made my heart skip a beat.

“You know, you can sleep here if you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind if you stay in his room.” He said politely. I smile at him, shaking my head. “It’s okay. I prefer my bed much better, no offense.” I reply and he laughs. “I won’t tell Nick you said that.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls Matt… I guess my head’s just been a mess.” I tell him, looking to my lap, playing with a loose string on the rip in my jeans.

“It’s cool. You can talk to me anytime you need to though, you know. About anything.” He says ducking his head to try and make eye contact again. I give in, looking at him and his soft expression tugs at my heart strings like I’m a lovesick puppet.

“Thank you.” I reply. “But I don’t know if you wanna get caught up in that. I’ve been a little… frustrated, to say the least.”

His arm flexes behind me, and I see his jaw clench, a curious look now in his eyes.

“Frustrated?” He says and I realize I might have implied something with that statement.

“Uh, I mean, stressed, you know? Like I have all these pent-up emotions.”

Shit. What the fuck was I saying?

Matt is silent, and the way he’s looking at me has my heart beating a million miles a minute, my palms feeling sweaty and my head spinning.

Finally, he says, “Like you need a release, right?” My eyes are still locked on his, floating in a never-ending pool of icy cold blue that makes me feel warm in the palpable tension now filling the room.

“Mhm.” I say, afraid to speak, because I might continue to say incredibly stupid things I’ll regret.

I feel his hand ghost over the back of my neck, which causes chills to run down my spine.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes travelling down my face, pausing at my lips. “I could help you with that too. If you asked.” He said quietly, almost whispering and looks me in the eyes again, a playful fire burning there and a sly smirk on his lips.

Before I can even process what he said, the next second, Nick comes bounding down the stairs from his room and Matt removes his arm from behind me, clearing his throat.

I jumped up, causing a weird look from Nick. “I-I need to go home. I forgot I have some things to do.” I blurt, going to grab my purse and keys from the table.

He looks back and forth from me to Matt, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Okay… I guess I’ll see you later?” He asks and I give him a hug before walking to the front door past Matt, avoiding eye contact with him. “For sure. Later!” I say, trying to rush out the door as fast as I can.

Once I open the door and step out, I hear Matt run to catch up and I turn around while he shuts the door behind him.

“Y/N. Wait.” He says.

“Yes?” I ask, my breath coming out in short puffs.

The cool air of spring is blowing, leaves falling from the trees and flowers starting to bloom in the grass.

Matt looks at me in the same way he has all night and I notice he’s hesitating, his mouth opening but no words coming out.

“What?” I say, wondering what he could’ve possibly followed me out of his house for.

“Tell me you don’t feel what I feel.”

“What?” I say again, sounding like a broken record.

He moves closer to me, his body now a few inches from mine and I see his chest rise and fall quickly, his next words coming out breathlessly.

“Tell me you don’t feel something between us. I need to know the real reason why you’ve been ignoring me.”

My heart is pounding at his boldness, and I clutch to the keys in my hand so hard my skin stings with pain. I was not ready to have this conversation and all I could do is freeze as he waits for my response.

“Y/N, tell me you feel nothing. That I’m just a friend to you and nothing more.” He says softly now, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against my jaw with the lightest touch.

I want to tell him that yes, you’re just a friend and nothing more. That I don’t have any feelings for you and I don’t think about you every moment I wake up and every moment before I go to sleep. That I feel nothing.

But I just can’t. I can’t say or do anything but stare back at him, my eyes surely saying the complete opposite of what I’m thinking.

He closes the gap between us, now grabbing both sides of my face in his hands, brushing his lips against mine. “Tell me you don’t want me.” He breaths, and my knees feel weak as I clutch onto his shirt. “Matt…” Is all I can manage and I’m not doing a very good job of convincing him that I don’t.

He groans at the needy sound in my voice, and I can’t take the tension anymore as I press my lips to his, kissing him. He instantly kisses me back, his grip tightening on my jaw and I’m not even sure how I’m still standing.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, our mouths moving in sync and it’s electric. His lips are so soft but firm in the way he leads, and when his tongue glides against mine, I moan lightly from the feeling. His hands now slip to my waist, mine still on his chest.

The kiss is becoming heated as we pant against each other, his fingertips digging into my hips and pulling me even closer to him. I feel his heart racing, the world slipping away like nothing else matters.

He kissed me like he couldn’t breathe, and I was his oxygen.

I wanted more and more, unsure that I will ever stop before a little voice in my head tells me that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. But it feels so fucking good.

No. This is bad.

“No-“ I say, suddenly pushing him away from me, catching my breath.

I shake my head, backing away from him now. “This is bad.”

His cheeks are tinted pink, lips swollen and red, his hair a mess.

“Y/N.” He says, taking a step towards me.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” I responded, stepping further from him. “I have to go.” And I turn away, practically running to my car and slamming the door, taking off before I can change my mind.

As I drive home, the look on Matt’s face replays in my head, and I touch my lips, the feeling of his kiss still there.

I’ve never felt this strongly before, and as I drive further and further from him, I feel an invisible string tugging on me, willing me to turn around.

It’s a dangerous game to play, whatever we’ve started.

a/n: matts pov and disgusting smut in part two 😁

feedback and thoughts appreciated 💕

taglist:

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut

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angrygirlromero · 10 months ago

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PERFECTION — LUKE CASTELLAN

A/N: hi! I’d just like to say that this is based on the show, because I haven’t read the books as yet, and I’m so very in love with Luke and don’t worry I do know what happens to him, so hope you like it!

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo fem reader

Warnings: established relationship, mentions of asma attacks, bad parenting, soft luke, possible grammar mistakes.

REQUEST ARE OPEN! For: pjo, got, Saltburn, hotd, hunger games, fnaf, etc.

——————————————————————————

Adeline Basset had always been a daddy’s girl, doing everything in her power to prove herself worthy of her father’s affection no matter what it was or what it took, and even without all her efforts, Apollo would’ve still call her his favorite.

The Apollo girl had been in the infirmary all morning long attending to a young Ares boy with asma problems, “I know it’s the third time this week” explain the boy in embarrassment to his elder sister, Clarisse shook her head slightly in disapproval lifting her hand to play with younger boy’s hair, “it’s alright nick, if you ever feel the least bit breathless then just tell me” said Clarisse with a sympathetic smile.

“Now that you’re better remember you have training in an hour so go ahead I’ll catch up with you” ordered the Ares girl to which her half sibling nodded before getting off the infirmary bed, “thanks so much Adi” said the little boy with a grin, “anytime” to which Adeline replied with a friendly smile as she put away the tools she had used to get the boy’s breathing under control.

Leaving the two girls alone Clarisse spoke up, “I’m sorry about the timing” “it’s alright as long as he’s okay” smiled back the Apollo girl, “thanks by the way, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here early” said Clarisse with a stressed look overtaking her face.

“I’ve been reading up about his condition, and I spoke to my dad, and he said that there should be some herds in the enchanted forest that could help him” explained Adeline, “but it’s gonna be hard to get my hands on them” she went on.

“I could try and get them for you” offered Clarisse, “it’s not that simple, but thanks for the offer I’ll see what I can do, just make sure he has his inhaler with him at all times” said Adeline, to which Clarisse nodded, “I will thanks again” “it’s my pleasure” Clarisse gave Adeline one last thankful look before leaving to start training her siblings.

——————————————————————————

Ever since the night of the arrival of Percy Jackson Adeline had not seen much of her boyfriend, not because she did not want to, but rather because she had been more busy than usual at the infirmary.

From the very moment she had met the boy she knew he would do great things, despite his sassy personality Adeline and become quite close with the young boy, despite the short time of their meeting.

Adeline could remember that night clearly, she had stayed late in the infirmary with Luke that night, “come on pretty girl, you’re over working yourself, I’m sure there are other solutions” said Luke as he kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, his large figure wrapping around her from behind as he watched her scramble through old enchanted books.

“No I’m not, his condition is worse because of his father’s genes he’s harder to heal” said Adeline not moving her eyes from the book, “it’s late you haven’t slept in days, you need your rest, besides the Ares kids are always mean to your siblings they don’t deserve your hard work” spoke luke.

“I’m not doing this for them I’m doing this for him, for nick he’s so young and innocent, he can’t walk for two minutes without coughing” “are you sure you’re doing this for him, or is this you trying to prove yourself to your father?” Asked Luke as he turned Adeline around to face him.

Adeline kept her head down, Luke frowned at her reaction lifting his fingers to her chin to look up at him, “hey, hey I didn’t mean to make you mad pretty girl” he said, “no you’re right, it’s not only about nick, it’s about proving myself worthy of my father’s affection, he’s been talking to me a lot more recently, he’s been giving me more gifts and we’ve been bonding, and I feel bad for my other sibling that he doesn’t even talk to…” explained Adeline.

Luke paused for a moment leaning down to press a deep kiss on her lips, “you have nothing to prove, Apollo has adored since the moment you entered camp and you and everyone knows it, it wouldn’t matter if you weren’t the best archer or the best singer and song writer, even if you didn’t have your powers or knowledge, you’d still be his favorite. All the Gods are selfish and they know they have other children but they choose to acknowledge the ones they think are worthy” spoke Luke, “it’s not fair” “I know pretty girl it’s not” said Luke leaning down to press his forehead against his girlfriend’s”

“Adi! Adi!” Called out Grover as he entered the infirmary with Mr. D, Chiron and some other campers breaking the two lovers from each other, “what’s the matter?” Asked Adeline, “it’s the new kid, he’s injured he killed a Minotaur!” Exclaimed Grover.

“Set him on the bed” ordered Adeline, which the campers quickly did, as Adeline rushed to check him and begin to heal him.

Luke stood in the corner admiring his girlfriend work, doing what she loved, “aren’t you supposed to be in your cabin?” Asked Mr. D causing Luke to jump, “I-“ “get to your cabin kid” ordered Mr. D causing Luke to rush out of the infirmary stoping at the door to look back at his girlfriend, smiling as he watched her hands glow as she pressed her hands onto the new kid’s arm to heal him.

“Hey Adi” called out Perch smiling at her from the door way of the infirmary, “we’re heading to lunch, you ready?” Asked Percy as he glanced at Luke who stood behind him leaning against the door with a charming smile on his handsome face, “yeah I’m coming” replied Adeline smiling at her boys.

#fyp #fan theory #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #disney #anabeth chase #apollo

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pedrito-friskito · 8 months ago

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part thirty-three

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

jackson holds more than a few familiar faces.

a/n: these few chapters are so satisfying to me cuz it’s more my own creation that straight outta the show and i hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏻

word count: 7.4k

warnings: nothing crazy, y’all know the drill by now

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

The last time you saw Nick Cowan, Joel had just put a bullet in his shoulder, and he’d nearly put a bullet in Joel’s head. Then you’d picked up the gun Joel had dropped and pointed it right back at the then-FEDRA soldier, your…whatever he once was.

The last thing you said to him rings clear as day in your mind: “Guess I’m just as terrible as you thought.”

He looks…old. It suits him. It’s the eyes that give him away, that signature stare you had once grown so used to. Now, they pin you in place, and you have no choice but to stare right back, taking in the thick beard along his jaw, the scar across his nose, his hair greying and pushed back over his head. He’s bigger than you remember, all broad shoulders towering over you as he gets closer to you, closing the distance, making your brain run a marathon trying to make sense of it.

He’s here. He’s alive.

“Liv?” he croaks out, his voice snapping on your name. His eyes are glassy, those stupidly long lashes you were always silently envious of clumping together. “Is it really…is it really you?”

Nick Cowan opens his arms to you, his boots crunching in the snow beneath your feet. He goes to hug you, saying your name again, shock and happiness on his face.

And you fucking deck him.

You’re pure adrenaline, and you hear the crunch of your knuckles hitting his face more than you feel it. It’s like every eye in the street turns to you as it happens, and Cowan reels backward, spitting blood into the snow and cupping his face. Your hand explodes with pain as you fall back a step, cradling your hand against your chest, and Joel materializes at your side, curling a hand around your elbow.

“Okay,” Cowan grunts, spitting again. “I probably deserved that.”

“Probably?” you nearly shout, stepping forward, but Joel tightens his hold and hauls you back. “It’s okay.”

You wrestle yourself out of Joel’s grip and close the distance between you and Nick. But this time, you hug him. You grab his forearm and throw your arms around him, squeezing him tight. It’s a moment before he returns it, a low chuckle reaching your ears. There are more tears on your face, and god fucking damn it, your hand hurts something fierce, but then you feel something connect with your shin and a tiny voice shouts, “Get your hands off my daddy!”

Nick steps back, releasing you, and you look down to see a little girl, no older than five or six, pulling back to kick you in the shin again. She’s cute, all bright blue eyes and blonde braids and her cheeks flushed with cold. “Deanna, stop it,” Nick chides, reaching down to scoop her into his arms. She goes willingly, giving you the best evil eye you’ve received from someone so young, and it makes you laugh.

You’re still reeling, your aching heart barely able to process. Tommy? Cowan? Alive and well, all this time. It’s almost too much, and then—

“Deanna, come back here!” an unfamiliar voice calls, and you look in its direction to see a young man making his way through the crowd to where you’re stood.

And your heart sinks into your toes.

“I’m sorry,” he says to Cowan, reaching into his pocket and producing an inhaler. “She just ran off before I could…” He trails off, and his eyes move to you. “Liv?”

The image of the little boy in your mind is instantly replaced with the older version standing before you. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Cowan, the mop of dark curls now cropped closer to his head, short enough that you can see the scar on his forehead. The memory jars you. He was so little, chasing Emily around the food court, and you’d heard him yelp as he fell. A few minutes later, his dad was carrying him into the medic area where you were working with Deanna. Poor kid cracked his head open and was sniffling around the wad of napkins his dad had pressed to his bleeding forehead.

You’d taken over, carried him over to one of the cots and found a wad of gauze that would soak up the blood a bit better. Henry was all sniffles and big round eyes, staring up at you as you dabbed at his wound. You distracted him, talking about anything and everything while you cleaned it and found him a bandage and told him he was brave. It wasn’t terribly deep, but it had left a thin line above his eyebrow, one you could only really see when the light caught the right way.

“Henry,” you breathe out, and a moment later, he’s in your arms. Despite the height he now has on you, he’s that ten-year-old kid again, hugging you tightly. The kid that groaned about math but still did every piece of homework, that sat vigil at your bedside after you got the shit kicked out of you in lockup, that sweet-talked Joel into a game of Monopoly the first time they met.

Maybe not your son by blood, but the closest thing you know you’ll ever come to one.

And he’s alive.

But then the mood sours, all in an instant.

“You told us she was dead!” Henry shouts, still clinging to you, but pulling away to spit the words at Cowan. There are tears on his face, making his cheeks ruddy, and you can hear the way his chest wheezes. “All these years, you told us she was gone! You fucking liar!”

You can see the hurt on Nick’s face, the way he flinches back. The little girl — Deanna — hides her face in Nick’s neck, putting her arms around him. A blonde woman appears at his side, puts a hand on Deanna’s back and murmurs something to Nick that you don’t hear over Henry shouting.

“I fucking hate you! You’re a goddamn liar! She was our family!”

“Henry, stop,” you say softly, trying to placate him. “It’s okay, it’s not—”

He wrenches out of your arms and disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Nick to watch him go. Nick hands Deanna off to the blonde and she gives you what you think is a sympathetic smile before also walking away.

“I never meant for it to work out this way,” Nick says, and part of you feels bad for him, but another part wants to deck him again. “They were just kids when we…” He shakes his head. “Deanna and I agreed, it was better that way. That maybe it would stop them from wanting to go back to Boston if they didn’t think you were still there.”

You feel a presence behind you — Joel. His hand rests at the small of your back and you swipe tears from your cheeks. “Well, I was still there, Nick. Wondering this entire time if you were all alive or not. You couldn’t have had the decency to at least let us know you were okay?” Your voice cracks on the question and Joel puts his arm around your waist now, tugging you against him. You’re grateful; it’s the only thing stopping you from punching Nick again.

“Everything I did was to protect them,” Nick says, staring down at his boots. You got him good; his jaw is an angry shade of red, and there’s a spot of red on his bottom lip. “You know exactly why I did what I did.”

Joel bristles, angling himself in front of you, raising a hand. “Can we not do that right now?” he grits out. “There’s a lot going on right this second; we all need to calm the fuck down and you need to watch your mouth.”

Nick doesn’t say anything at first, just nods, but then his eyes flick back to you. “I’m sorry, really, I am. Tommy knows which house is ours, if you want to talk more.”

He turns on his heel, but you stop him. “Nick.” He swivels back to you slowly, his hands dug in his pockets. “I’m assuming the little Deanna is named after the one that took care of us back in Boston.”

“She is,” he nods. “Dee passed five years ago.” But then he stops, and you know the next thing out of his mouth might crush you. “The same flu that took Emily. They’re buried together; I can show you where, if you like. That’s probably where Henry took off to.”

You inhale sharply, stumbling back a step, but Joel doesn’t let you go far. Tommy’s on your other side now, Ellie a half-step behind him, and the woman who had told you to come to Jackson breaks the silence that settles as you watch Nick walk away.

“Why don’t we get you all something to eat?”

You’re all quiet, the only sound at the table is the clatter of cutlery hitting plates. Joel can barely remember the last time he ate off a real plate, let alone sat at a table while he had a meal. It must have been back in Boston, he thinks, back before…

He glances at you between bites. You’re picking at your food, your shoulders hunched around your ears, eyes downcast. Worry knots Joel’s stomach, but goddamn it, he’s hungry. “Liv, honey, eat,” he says, nodding across the table where you’re sat beside Tommy. “Please.”

You just nod, lifting your glass of water and taking a sip.

Beside him, Ellie is wolfing down her food, scraping the plate, eyes glued to the meal like someone might try and take it away from her. “There’s more if you need it,” Maria — the woman who’d brought you here — says from her seat at the head of the table.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Joel says with a slight nod, pausing his own eating. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie quips, taking another bite. “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

“Ellie,” you chide, your eyes widening for a second and Joel’s eyes dart between you.

“Sorry,” he says to Tommy and Maria. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy gives Joel a small smile and lifts his hand, giving your shoulder a squeeze. You offer a half-smile in return, reaching up and squeezing his fingers.

Ellie’s attention is dragged across the large room, and her almost menacing, “What?” makes you both flinch.

“Jesus Christ, Ellie,” you groan, rubbing your hand across your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asks, his eyes darting to the girl who’d been hiding behind a pillar, watching your table.

“What about her manners?” Ellie calls, loud enough for the girl to hear, and you sigh heavily.

“She was just curious,” Maria supplies, her tone placating. “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right,” Ellie says with a tight nod. “Well, maybe I’ll teach them.” She glances at Tommy, at you beside him, and then her eyes move back to Maria. “And I want my gun back.”

They’d taken your weapons before you got on the horses, and the other riders had whistled at your barb-wired bat. Joel didn’t doubt you’d get them back, but now isn’t the time or place.

“They also aren’t armed,” Maria replies.

“We don’t need to be,” you add, earning an open-mouthed look from Ellie. “Not in here.”

An awkward silence settles for a moment while Ellie cleans her plate, and Joel’s worry subsides some when he sees you take a few more bites.

“Y’know what,” Tommy starts, glancing between you all, “I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

“She was gonna have her guys kill us,” Ellie almost sneers, and your eyes dart to Joel before you reach across the table, just laying your fist on the tabletop.

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. It’s all bark, we’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well, you got a couple of ninety-year-olds shitting themselves out there.”

“Ellie!” Joel grits, and you put your face in your hands.

“They say that you leave dead bodies around?” she continues, ignoring both of you.

“Those are the people who tried us,” Maria responds easily, barely fazed.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy says, and Joel sees the recognition on your face as you drop your hands, squaring your shoulders slightly.

“Not always, at least,” Maria says. Her eyes linger on Joel as she says it, and it makes him bristle. He sees your face pinch from the corner of his eye and you lean up, straightening, laying both elbows on the table.

He can see you holding yourself back, wanting to jump on the defence. So he tries to change the subject. “Ma’am, we’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he lays down his fork and looks to his brother, “but it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

You inhale sharply, reaching for your water glass again.

Tommy pauses, balks, before, “Well, um.” He reaches a hand out and Maria takes it, a small smile on her face. “Maria is family, actually.”

Your water glass rattles as you set it back down. “Oh shit!” Ellie says, her tone suddenly lighter. “Congrats.”

Joel doesn’t have words, barely registering you putting your hand on Tommy’s arm and murmuring, “That’s great.”

“Joel,” Ellie calls softly, snapping him out of it, “say congrats.”

“Congrats,” he repeats drily.

The silence that settles after is so awkward Joel wants to crawl out of his own skin, but his brother breaks it. “How about a tour?”

You nearly jump into action, collecting the dishes and cutlery and stacking them together, waving Maria off when she tells you to leave them. Joel makes his way around the table to your side, helps you into your coat. You mumble a thank you, give him a tight smile when he finds your hand and gives it a squeeze.

Maria leads you out of the mess hall and back onto the street. The air is so bitingly cold, such a stark difference from the warmth inside, that Joel flinches, and you tuck yourself against his side, ducking under his arm.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria tells you as you start walking, her voice loud over the noise of the street. “Just a handful of us back then.” She points to one part of the wall. “That section was already a gated community so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

“And you said Infected?” Joel asks, rubbing his hand over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” Tommy answers, “but usually smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here, it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope, sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half mile out.” Joel smirks; his brother, forever the gun nerd.

It gets Ellie’s attention. “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel says immediately. He’s half-expecting you to interject, but you don’t say a word. “How do you keep this place quiet?”

“Carefully,” Maria responds. “Being in the middle of nowhere helps, not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

That makes Joel stop, and you do too, your hand curling into a fist at his hip as Tommy shoots him a look.

“House of worship,” Maria continues, either unfazed or unaware of the silent exchange as she points out buildings, “multi-faith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s gaze drifts up, to the power lines linked along the street. “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that working a couple of years ago,” she says with a nod. “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters, lights.”

Ellie shakes her head, glancing around. “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

You keep walking, eventually coming to an area that looks like a makeshift farm. A herd of sheep runs past as you all step through the fence, bleating as they go.

“Hey, Joel,” Ellie calls, beaming, “check it! Baa!”

You both laugh, and Joel squeezes your shoulder.

“So, are you like, in charge?” Ellie asks Maria, clearly starting to get over her earlier…ferocity.

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria answers. “I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repair, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy chimes in, “greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

“So, communism,” you pipe up, leaning around Joel to look at Tommy.

Tommy’s expression is pure confusion as he shakes his head. “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that,” Marie corrects him. “Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stops in his tracks, clearly shocked at this revelation, and Joel has to stifle his laugh as he walks past his brother. The conversation trails off as you come up to a row of stables, and Ellie is instantly taken by a young foal poking its head out of the half door.

“Well, I’m sure they’d all like a shower, some new clothes,” Maria says, looking at Tommy. “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nods. “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

You blow out a breath, turning to steam in the cold air. Joel can hear the words on the tip of your tongue before Ellie interjects, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

It bothers him more than it should. She looks back at the two of you with a grin on her face that quickly disappears. “We’ve been doin’ fine.”

“Joel,” you say quietly, turning your body against his.

Marie doesn’t miss the exchange and looks at you. “Well, I can take Liv and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up?” She pauses. “Unless, you—”

“No, let the brothers do their thing,” you say with a nod, peeling away from Joel’s side. He wants to pull you back the second you’re gone, but he stops himself. “I have a few…unfinished conversations of my own to take care of.”

Maria nods. “I can show you where the Cowans live; it’s not far from our place.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, watching as you walk over to where Ellie’s standing, reaching up and petting the foal’s nose. Ellie seems to relax further when you touch her shoulder. “Okay.”

“We’ll be fine,” you tell Joel, and he’s not quite sure who you’re trying to convince, you or him.

Tommy starts to lead him away, and Joel gives you one last glance before following his brother away from the stables.

Standing on the front porch of what Maria has told you is the Cowans’ home, you feel nervous, of all things. Your fury has subsided some, turned instead to a quiet ache that lingers in your chest, makes your heart rate rise when you let your mind wander. You feed yourself the facts instead, still trying to make sense of it all.

Nick is alive. Tommy is alive. Henry is alive.

Deanna is dead. Emily is dead.

Somehow, the confirmation makes it easier. You can’t even begin to add up all the time you’ve spent wondering over the years, when Nick first took them away, when Tommy left with the Fireflies. The wondering always made it worse. It was the same when the outbreak first hit, stuck in Boston, not knowing who lived or died. It was Nick that gave you the closure that your parents were gone. Then Joel’s panicked admission that Anna had lived through being bitten, but then FEDRA carted her off, never to be seen again.

That’s one bit of closure you still don’t have.

My parents are dead. Bill and Frank are dead. Sarah is dead. Anna is…dead.

You suck in a shaky breath, the iciness of it chilling you from the inside out as you lift your hand and knock twice.

It’s a few moments before the door swings inward, revealing the blonde woman who had stood beside Nick earlier in the street. “Oh,” she says, her voice bordering between overly bright and cautious, “it’s you.”

“Olivia,” you offer, extending your hand, “but call me Liv.”

“Sloane,” she responds, taking it. “Nick’s upstairs. D’you wanna come in?”

You stall, thrown off by her invitation. “Oh, uh, sure.”

Sloane steps aside to let you in and you step over the threshold, immediately soaking in the warmth that greets you. “This must all be very…strange for you.”

You lift your brows, glancing around the house as she shuts the door behind her. It’s quaint, with a Christmas tree in one corner of the living room that you can see, a kitchen to the other side. You can see little Deanna perched at the table, crayons in hand, and it’s so reminiscent of Emily, of your life back in Boston, that you nearly turn on your heel and dart back into the cold.

Your face must give you away, and Sloane seems to think she caused it. “Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you cut her off, waving a hand. “Strange is probably the nicest way to put it.” You try to laugh, try to make the atmosphere a little lighter, but the sound twists in your throat. “I’m the one who should be sorry; I didn’t mean to barge in here like this.”

She gives you a small smile. “I invited you in, Liv. It’s okay, really. Nick told me a lot about you.”

“Only the good stuff, I hope,” you say, returning the grin while inwardly praying he left out some of your…finer details. “Although, there’s not a lot of good stuff, which I’m sure you know.”

“We do what we have to,” she replies, lifting her shoulder, and you balk. “It all happens the way it does for a reason. If you’d stayed together, he wouldn’t be here.” She pauses, looks over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “And I wouldn’t have that beautiful little girl.”

Tears spring in your eyes and you blink furiously while she’s not looking, willing them away.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” she says, turning back to you. “Nick said she kicked you in the shins after…”

“…after you clocked me in the jaw,” Nick finishes, coming down the stairs, sporting the starting of a bruise along his beard. “Glad I only ever taught you to shoot. If I’d taught you how to punch, I’d probably still be unconscious in the street.” You open your mouth to say something, but you’re caught off guard as Nick leans over the stair rail to kiss Sloane hello, which she returns with a grin.

He looks so…at ease. Jealousy sparks in your gut something fierce. Not that he’s kissing her and not you — that ship sailed many moons ago. But seeing them here, in their home, with their daughter. It’s a postcard reminder of all the things you and Joel don’t have. Have never had. May not ever have.

“Nick, can we talk?” you ask, shoving your hands in the pockets of your coat. “Please? I promise not to clock you again.”

He barks a laugh, reaching for his coat on a hook near the door. “Let’s go.”

Sloane kisses him again before he leaves, leading you out the door and back into the cold. You fall into step easily, heading deeper into Jackson, past more houses and people. It looks almost like a real neighbourhood, kids building snowmen in their front yards, Christmas trees glittering in windows. You’re both quiet, but Nick’s the one that breaks the silence.

“Go ahead and ask, Liv,” he says, digging his hands in his pockets while you toy with your own. “I can hear the wheels in your head going from here.”

“Maria said this settlement has been here seven years,” you start, his words all the confirmation you need to start asking for the answers you need, “but you left Boston what, fourteen years ago? What did you do between Boston and here?”

He sighs, his breath turning to a cloud of steam in the air. “Whatever I had to. I only got us out of the QZ by asking for a transfer, and we barely survived the trek to Chicago with FEDRA on our side. But we were there almost five years.” He gestures to the left when the sidewalk splits, and you follow his direction. “After Chicago went to shit, we did whatever we could. Lots of sleeping on the road, hiding in abandoned buildings. The kids hated it, Deanna even more so, but there were more of us then, some people she’d befriended in Chicago, a few other soldiers who’d grown tired of the bullshit, like me. Sloane was one of them.”

“She was FEDRA?” you ask, genuinely shocked.

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding. “I think she’s the only person who’s given me more of a run for my money than you did.”

“Nick—”

“I don’t blame you for doing what you did,” he says, staring at his boots as you keep walking. The sidewalk splits again and this time, you go right. The houses are further apart here, a small copse of trees coming into view at the end of the street. “Or Joel. He was just trying to protect you, and I’m sorry for what I—”

“You shot him in the head, Nick,” you say, bristling. “You can’t just apologize for that and make it all go away. You could have killed him. His hearing hasn’t been the same since it happened.”

He stops in his tracks, staring at you, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You heard me,” you tell him, defiant only to cover up the way your bottom lip is wobbling. “And then you tell Henry and Emily that I’m dead?”

“Well, I couldn’t tell them the truth, could I?” he shoots back and starts walking again. You inhale sharply and follow. “Henry was so mad when we left. He kept asking where you were, if you were gonna meet us in Chicago, over and over. It just seemed…easier. And how in the hell was I supposed to know that you’d show up here one day and prove me wrong?”

“You could have sent a message,” you say, your chest growing tight, “when you got to Chicago. Or when you got here. Never mind, I should give Tommy a fucking earful for not telling me you’ve been here this whole time.”

“I asked him not to,” he admits, and your brows shoot up. “Yes, I lied, okay, Liv? I’m a terrible fucking person. But you were just as bad as I was. You put that entire QZ at risk coming back when you did, and I—”

“Stop it,” you grit, lifting a hand, shocked when he cuts himself short. “Never in a million years would I have come back if I wasn’t sure. I made Joel promise to put me down if I so much as twitched. I made him swear to put a bullet in my head and leave me there, then go back to the QZ and tell everyone how fucking sorry I was.”

You’ve reached the end of the street, the edge of the small forest, and Nick keeps moving forward, stepping onto the snow. You follow, grinding your teeth together as you go.

You walk in silence for some time, Nick stepping quickly, a few feet in front of you, and you keep your distance, unsure if you can handle the rest of this conversation.

The clearing comes into view after a bit of walking, and Nick moves to the side, revealing a graveyard of sorts, a few rows of grave markers dusted with snow. They’re simple markers, wooden crosses driven into the earth, names scrawled across them, painted on a few. One of the graves is fresh.

Seeing Deanna’s name feels like a punch to the gut, but Emily’s hits twice as hard. You drop to your knees in the snow, reaching out and brushing your hand over the cross, the wreath of flowers that sits atop it. “Sloane does that,” Nick tells you, his voice hushed. “She’s got a whole garden in our backyard just to bring the flowers here. Grows them inside in the winter. She loved Emily.”

Your tears flow freely, dripping off your chin and hitting the snow. “It was a flu?”

“Yes,” he answers, crouching down beside you. “Five years ago, now. We’d been here six months, and things felt good, but then the kids started getting sick, a lot of them. Henry got it too, and I thought he’d go before Emily, with his lungs being so awful, but he didn’t. A few other kids passed, and Deanna was so hellbent on helping as many as she could, swearing up and down that she wouldn’t catch it.” His voice snaps and he clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

Despite it all, you reach out and put your hand on his arm. “You and I both know that’s not a battle you would have won, Nick.”

“I know,” he answers, his eyes glassy as he covers your hand with his. “And I know that I can’t just apologize and make it all go away, Liv, but for whatever it is worth to you, I am sorry.”

“I am, too,” you reply, squeezing his arm, “for whatever it’s worth.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “This is all so fucked up, but it is good to see you.”

Slowly, you both get to your feet. Your knees are shaky and you can’t bring yourself to pull your gaze away from Deanna and Emily’s grave. After a moment, Nick loops his arm around your shoulders and tugs you against him. You let it happen, glad for his warmth, and lean your head against him.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

Nick walks you back to town, points you in the direction of what you learn is Tommy’s bar. The snow crunches under your feet, and as you cross the road, you feel lighter than you have in a long time. Your heart aches, but you can make peace with the loss of Deanna, and to a lesser extent, Emily. There’s no denying the grief that has you by the collar, but knowing they didn’t turn, that they weren’t torn to shreds, that they didn’t die like…that. It brings you some strange sense of peace.

You catch sight of Joel walking out of the bar as you get close, and you can tell he doesn’t notice you standing there. There’s a faraway look on his face that makes your gut twist with unease, the Christmassy atmosphere around you doing little to distract you.

He pulls his coat on and you watch him step down onto the sidewalk, feet carrying him towards the nearest lamppost. He leans heavily against it, one hand lifting to press against his chest, the other curling around the post, and you surge forward, calling his name.

“I’m fine,” he spits at you when you get close, his head lifting, waving you off. “I’m—”

The words choke off in his throat, his eyes caught on something over your shoulder, and before you can ask, he steps away from the post, moves past you, and you can see what he’s looking at.

If you didn’t know she was gone, you’d think you were looking at the back of Sarah Miller. An older version, taller, her hair a bit longer than your memory serves, but the similarities are uncanny. Your heart crawls into your throat as a young girl bounds toward Sarah’s doppelgänger, falling into her open arms with a giggle.

More tears springing into your eyes, you step closer to Joel, putting a hand on his arm. “Baby,” you murmur, letting your hand drop, reaching for his, “let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?”

He doesn’t move. You both stay where you are, Joel’s eyes tracking the girls as they disappear, but you can almost hear the wheels churning in his mind. You say his name again, but he ignores you, and as you watch, that hard mask — one you haven’t seen for a while now — forms on his face, effectively pushing you away.

“I’m goin’ for a walk,” he bites out, and before you can reply, he’s gone, tugging his coat closer, stalking off through the crowds.

You have half a mind to follow him, but something tells you you shouldn’t, and you stay put, wipe the tears from your lashes, looking around at the town. There are just so many…people. Happy people, healthy people.

Part of you wants to deck Tommy for not telling you to come sooner, but then you remember Maria’s pointed look in the mess hall, when he’d said that having a bad reputation doesn’t always make you bad. What stories has he told his wife? How much does she know? She’d kept him off the radio, after all, leaving you and Joel to spiral back in Boston.

You blow out a breath, refusing to dwell on the past, on all the things you don’t have the power to change now. You made it here, found much more than you bargained for, and hopefully, Joel got some information from Tommy about where you go next. Peering around, you realize you’re not totally sure where you’ve ended up, making your plan to head to the house Maria had briefly shown you before taking you to Cowan’s a moot point. You turn on your heel, contemplating going into the bar to talk to Tommy, when you barrel straight into someone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say immediately, your boots sliding against the snow. The other person grabs your arm, keeping you upright, and your eyes flick up, widening. “Henry!”

It’s obvious he’s been crying. His eyes are red-rimmed, his nose bright, and he sniffles as he nods at you. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be,” you assure him, reaching up and cupping his cold cheek in your palm. “Honey, you’re freezing.”

“I was at the graves,” he tells you, and you nod, “but when I heard you and Nick coming, I ran. I didn’t know what to—”

You shake your head. “Henry, it’s okay, really. I promise. This day has been…intense. I was just about to go back to the house Maria put us up in, but I realized I don’t really know where I’m going. Why don’t you show me the way, and I’m sure we can scrounge up something warm to drink inside?”

The corner of his mouth lifts, a tiny smile, but a smile all the same. “That sounds good.”

“Good,” you agree, and he offers you his elbow, turning you in the opposite direction you’d about to start walking. “God, you’re so tall.”

“Giving Nick a run for his money,” he says, and you can hear the smile still in your voice. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, honey,” you tell him, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow as you start walking. “Anything.”

“Do you remember my parents?”

Oof. “A little. I never really got the chance to know them well; I wasn’t at the mall very long before they died, but I remember them being very nice, very kind. Your dad was very funny, he was always trying his hardest to make you kids laugh.”

“And my mother?”

You swallow hard, ignoring the scene that flashes in your mind. The last time you’d seen Tim and Marcy, FEDRA soldiers had been carrying their bodies out of the mall where you’d all been staying. Tim had blood on his mouth and a bullet in his brain, and Marcy’s throat had been ripped out.

“She was beautiful,” is what comes out of your mouth, and it’s not a lie. She was a beautiful woman, and part of you aches at the realization that you and Deanna never really talked to the kids about their parents much, at least not while they were in Boston. “She chased the two of you around a lot, but I remember she’d tell you bedtime stories every night.”

“I remember that, I think,” Henry says, and you squeeze his arm. “I remember her telling me she’d always chase the bad dreams away.”

You lean your head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry it’s all worked out this way. It’s not fair.”

He falls silent, and you walk quietly until the house comes into view. You head inside, finding a note from Ellie that she’s across the street at Maria and Tommy’s house. The house is warm, and sure enough, it’s easy to find a few stray tea bags, some mugs, water and a kettle.

Henry takes a seat at the kitchen island as you make the tea, arms propped on the counter, shoulders hunched. Part of you wants to ask him about Emily, but you hold your tongue, searching the kitchen cabinets and eventually finding a few sugar packets.

“Deanna still talked about you a lot,” Henry says suddenly, and his voice almost makes you jump. “After we left Boston. I think she was mad at Nick, for taking us away, and I don’t know if they ever made up, really and truly.”

“She was mad?” you repeat, dropping the tea bags into mugs and filling them with hot water. “At Nick?”

He nods. “I don’t think she really believed him, when he told us you were dead. Em and I were just kids, but Deanna…she’d give him shit all the time, anytime he made a decision on the road, she’d always counter him and say something like, if Liv were here, she’d do this.”

It makes your throat tight. Sounds like the Deanna you remember.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and your brow lifts, “for believing him.”

You shake your head, setting one of the mugs in front of him and taking the seat beside his. “Henry, honey, you were just a kid. You couldn’t have known; you don’t need to apologize.”

He taps his fingers against the side of his mug. “You were always there for us, Liv. I remember that.” His forehead furrows. “I remember…you getting hurt? You slept on the couch in our apartment for a few days and…” He trails off, shaking his head, but you remember.

“I fell down the stairs,” you say, recounting the lie you’d offered to cover up the beating you’d received in FEDRA lockup, your penance for Joel and Tess coming into the QZ. “That was just after Joel showed up.”

He nods. “I remember being really, really worried when I saw all the bruises, and Deanna told me not to worry, that you were tough and you’d be fine, but I snuck out of bed that night anyway and just sat by the couch, made sure you were still breathing.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “I remember. You scared the shit out of me, honestly.” That earns you a laugh, and you put your hand on his knee. “But then you started crying, and so I hugged you and told you I wasn’t going anywhere, that there was nothing that could take me away from you kids.”

“But then Nick did.”

You inhale sharply. You’re entering dangerous territory. “He did. I don’t agree with him telling you that I was dead, but he had his reasons, Henry. And he did his best to protect all of you.”

“Do you know the reason?” he asks, and your heart sinks. “Because even if you were dead, it doesn’t make sense why he dragged us out of Boston like that.”

“I don’t understand FEDRA anymore than you do, honey. He told me you stayed in Chicago for a while; if they sent him there, he probably didn’t have much of a choice.”

“But why did he want to take us away from you? And why didn’t you come looking for us?”

Fuck.

You shove a hand through your hair with a sigh. “I didn’t know where he’d taken you. I was the last person FEDRA was going to divulge information to, and without knowing even which direction he’d taken you, there was nothing for me to go on.”

It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s not entirely a lie either. You had no idea where Nick had taken them when he did, leaving behind only the note he’d written, telling you not to come after them, that you should stay in Boston and that he’d keep your secret. A secret you don’t think you can bring yourself to tell Henry. Not yet, anyway.

Henry sips his tea and you stare down into your mug. Silence settles, but it’s only a few moments before Henry breaks it. “I miss her every single day,” he says, and your eyes lift. “Emily.”

It feels like a punch in the chest. Your eyes are sore from crying already, and yet tears spring anew. “I do too,” you tell him, “and I don’t have the same version you did. She’s still a little kid in my mind, drawing butterflies everywhere.”

“She got really good at it,” he continues, a sad smile pulling at his mouth. “Drawing, I mean. It was all she ever wanted to do, and Nick always made sure she had something to draw with. Good of him, I guess, despite it all.”

“Henry, honey, you can’t hate him forever,” you say, veering for a subject change, if only to beat down the grief rising in your chest. “You’re allowed to be mad; I’m mad as all hell. But Nick Cowan is the closest thing you’ve had to a father in this world, and you know that as well as I do. He did what he had to, and he did it to protect you.” You inhale sharply. “If the roles were reversed, I’d have done the same thing.”

That gets his attention. His head snaps up, eyes meeting yours. “What?”

You sigh. You can’t tell him, you know you can’t. But despite all of it, Nick lied to protect them because of you, and you can’t let Henry hate him because of what you did.

“It was my fault,” you say finally, and the grief feels like it might spill over anyway, but you can’t keep up the facade, can’t let Nick take all the blame for this. “I messed up, and it put everyone in danger, and that’s why Nick took you away. I never came after you because I didn’t know where you went, and Nick told me to keep my distance. It was never anything you did, or your sister, or Deanna. It was me, Henry. I caused this. So if you’re going to hate anyone, it should be me. Nick did what he had to.”

He stares at you for a long moment. You wish the floor would split open and swallow you whole, but it doesn’t. You brace your hands on the countertop, waiting for the shouting, the same words he’d hurled at Nick in the street.

But instead, you get, “Are you staying? In Jackson?”

Not what you were expecting, but you’ll take it. “Not for long. We came looking for Tommy, hoping he might know where to take Ellie.”

“That’s the girl that’s with you?” You nod. “You’re taking her to the Fireflies?”

Your brows shoot up. “How do you—”

He waves you off. “Tommy likes to talk when he’s drunk.”

“You—” You cut yourself off, unable to lie any further. “Yes.”

“And after? When she’s where she needs to be?”

Your brow furrows and you shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. Joel and I haven’t decided. We’ve never had a decision like this available to us, and we’d have to talk to Maria more first, I think.” You stare down into your mug again. “I don’t think she likes us much.”

“Aren’t you supposed to hate your in-laws?” he jokes, the mood instantly lightening, and you bark a laugh.

“How would you know?” When his cheeks go red, you smile. “Someone special?”

Henry nods. “Very special.” He swallows, setting his mug on the counter. “His name is Cal.”

The spark in his eyes makes your gut twist with happiness. Despite it all, Henry’s managed to find something that makes his eyes light up like a Christmas tree, something that brings him joy you can feel.

You throw your arms around his neck. “I’m glad, Henry. I’m so, so glad.”

And you are.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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bobawitch · 5 months ago

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Highschool Battlefield | C.S

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem reader <3

cw: none!

wc: 2,379

a/n: OMG YALL IM SO SORRY! i did not mean to disappear off the face of the earth thats so my bad. life got crazy and my writers block was unrelenting. but heres the first chapter in a chris fic that ive been working on off and on. hope yall enjoy ;P

Chapter One:

You always had a distaste for “normal” highschool activities like pep rallies and homecoming afterparties. Which landed the question of why were you here? At the homecoming pep rally for your highschool. Well that was easy, your best friend Allison had dragged you. She had begged you for the last week and a half to come and eventually you gave in. Now Allison was the literal opposite of you, popular, bubbly. She was the girl everyone loved, and you were her best friend that no one understood. Most of the school just knew you as Allie’s friend, it wasn’t uncommon for people to not even know your name. She had it all, the style, the boyfriend, the grades, she was head of student council as well as head cheerleader. Honestly sometimes you wondered why she was your best friend, you were nothing like her. You were the outcast art kid that could have amazing grades if they cared, but you didn’t. Honestly if you hadn’t met Allie in 2nd grade you doubt y’all would’ve become friends. So now you sat on the top of the bleachers watching Allie lead the cheerleaders in their big routine, the football boys sitting on the front of the bleachers as the rest of the school screamed and cheered. Even though the homecoming pep rally was mainly for the football team the other sports teams were encouraged to wear their jerseys. Among the jocks you saw Chris, anybody that was anybody knew who Chris Sturniolo was. Potentially the most popular lacrosse player in the whole school, and way out of your social group. Though his older triplet brother Nick was a good friend of Allie’s so sometimes you’d cross paths. Your eyes drifted from his messy curls over to Allie and her beaming smile. You grinned to yourself, looking down at the sketchbook in your lap. A small sigh escaped your lips as your thumb pushed the volume button on your phone. Djo blared in your ears and you closed your eyes, laying your head back against the wall.

As you drifted into your own imaginary world you felt someone tap your shoulder and your eyes shot open. You were met with Allie’s big blue eyes and toothy white smile. You nodded at her as she sat next to you. “Hey.” You mumbled, tugging your earbuds out of your ear by their chord. You grabbed the pencil out of the ring of your sketchbook, opening it to the page of doodles of people in the auditorium. “I’m so glad you came Y/N!” Allie nearly yelled into your ear. You smiled over at her. “You’re my best friend, of course I came!” You shouted back. She grinned, leaning her head on your shoulder as her boyfriend came up to her. Jackson, Allie’s boyfriend, head of the football team. They were textbook prom queen and king. You gave a half smile at Jackson as he nodded to you, pulling Allie back to her feet. “Hey babe, the sports teams are going to get some pizza, wanna come?” Allie nodded before looking back at you. “Yep! And you’re coming with Y/N.” You looked up, your eyes fluttering in a confused look. “Uh, no thanks I’m good.” Allie shook her head and grabbed your arm, tugging you to your feets and causing your pencil to drop next to your docs. You sighed, Allie got like this sometimes, where she’d decide it was her turn to pick what we did. You slowly bent to grab your pencil and stuff it along with your sketchbook, back into your bag. You then adjusted the ratty flannel that clung to your arms as Allie let Jackson lead her away, following closely behind. You loved Allie but whenever she tried to force you into going places with Jackson and her cheerleader friends you felt a bit out of place. It was overall uncomfortable for you and usually no one would talk to you.

Soon enough the 3 of you arrived at a pizza place by your school and you stepped out of the car. A singular earbud securely tucked into your ear as Allie and Jackson pranced into the place, arm and arm. You crossed your arms as you walked in afterwards, finding a seat at the end of the table where some of the hockey and lacrosse players sat. You pulled out your sketchbook and began drawing again, peering into the back where a tall boy with black hair flipped some pizza dough. You quickly began a sketch of the boy, it was a hobby of yours to just sketch the people around you. It was so common that you had almost managed to draw everyone in your small high school. “That’s really good.” You jumped slightly from the sudden voice, looking up and being met with bright blue eyes. You stared at none other than Chris Sturniolo who met your gaze before looking behind him to see the boy you were drawing. “You’re really good at drawing.” He spoke again. “Oh uh, thanks. It’s just a hobby.” You shrugged, suddenly feeling the need to put your sketchbook away. He watched as you slid your sketchbook closed, setting down your pencil. “You’re Allie’s friend right?” He kept eye contact with you as you looked at the rest of the table. All of his teammates were chatting and laughing and yet here he was looking at you. “Uh, yeah.” You finally answered his question, looking at Allie who was talking to Chris’s other brother, Matt. Matt was on the hockey team with the triplet’s friend Nate, though you could still feel Chris’s eyes boring into the side of your face. “Does Allie’s friend have a name?” He spoke once more, causing you to turn. “Oh, sorry. Yeah hi, I’m Y/N.” You quickly muttered out. You weren’t good with socializing and you couldn’t quite wrap your head around why Chris Sturniolo of all people was talking to you. “I’m Chris. Nice to meet you Y/N.” You smiled lightly before looking down again, staring at the cover of your sketchbook. “Oh Y/N you met Chris?” Allie was suddenly sitting shoulder to shoulder with you, smiling with joy. “Uh, yeah.” She smiled and leaned closer to Chris. “You’ll have to excuse her, she’s not very social.” She said, nudging you playfully. You rolled your eyes before nudging her back, a smile tugging at your lips. “I am too, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me here.” You rebutted, looking at Chris again. His lips were tugged into a playful smirk. You rubbed your nose, your rings gently clicking against your septum piercing. You looked back towards where the pizza boy was, he had since left causing a sigh to escape your lips. “Did your muse disappear?” Chris teased from across you. You rolled your eyes. “Not my muse, I just like drawing candids.” “Then draw me.” You scrunched your nose, furrowing your eyebrows as you studied the boy’s face. “Uh no.” You shook your head, slowly opening your sketchbook and swiping past the drawings of the pep rally. “Why not?” You could’ve been imagining it but you almost thought you heard genuine hurt in the boy’s voice. “Because.” You tried to search for a reason but honestly you didn’t know why you wouldn’t draw him. “Because why?” He leaned closer, his tone a teasing and playful one. You sighed and flipped to an open page. “I don’t draw people when they are posing for it.” It wasn’t your best argument but it would work. “First time for everything right?” You sighed, examining the blue-eyed boy that sat in front of you. You chewed on your inner cheek before giving in. “Ok fine. Just act like I’m not drawing you please.”

Chris’s grin was impossible to hide as he bounced up and down in his chair. He cleared his throat before looking directly at you, apparently this was how he wanted you to draw. You shook your head, yet another sigh escaping your lips. “No, just start talking to your teammates and I’ll draw you. I don’t want to draw you staring at me.” He furrowed his brows, obviously confused as to why you cared so much but obliging anyway.

You stared at Chris’s features as your pencil danced along your sketchbook paper. You hated to admit it but Chris was actually pretty fun to draw. His hair swooped it a way that you enjoyed replicating. After about 20 minutes you had filled an entire page of your sketchbook with quickly drawn poses of Chris. You cleared your throat to catch his attention, him immediately stopping his conversation with his teammate and looking at you. He smirked when he noticed the clutch you had on your sketchbook. You slowly slid your sketchbook over to Chris before sliding your hand back. For some reason watching him inspect your drawings of him made you anxious, your heart beating out of your chest as you waited for some kind of reaction from the boy. He stared intently at the page before his hand gripped the edge of it. With a long ripping noise he pulled the page of drawings out of your sketchbook. You watched with an agape mouth as he folded it up and placed it securely in his pocket. “Thanks pretty girl.” He winked at you before turning to his teammate and beginning to speak again. You were absolutely stunned, staring blankly at the insanely popular boy. “Uh… yeah. Don’t mention it.” You looked over to your phone that lit up and frowned, taking your sketchbook and stuffing it in your bag. You stood, leaning over to Allie. “Dad called, I gotta get home. See you tomorrow.” Before you left the pizza place.

You gazed into your friend’s mirror, glaring daggers at your own reflection. Once again you found yourself questioning what you did to get into this predicament. You were in a black denim mini skirt with a black lace tank top hugging your curves, complimented by your signature fishnets and platform doc marten boots. You looked over to Allie’s bed where your green denim jacket laid. Quickly you grabbed it, snaking it around your arms before pulling it around your waist, hiding your torso from yourself. You hated when Allie made you dress up for things and today was no exception. Somehow you had talked Allie out of making you wear a big dress to homecoming but when you attempted to talk her out of making you go you were less successful. So you sighed and put on your least tomboy outfit before heading to Allie’s. She also insisted on doing your hair and makeup. You had sat as still as possible as the girl did a “clean girl” look on you. You quickly fixed it by adding some dark eyeliner and a little bit of liner on your waterline, darkening your eyes. Seemingly content with your look and her own, Allie dragged you to your truck. You had agreed to drive her so she could get wasted even if it meant you had to be at a high school dance completely sober. Not only that but Allie had already signed you up for going to at least one homecoming after party.

Within no time you had gotten Allie to the school, helping her tipsy self out of your passenger seat before walking her over to Jackson. Jackson smiled at her and she quickly tackled him, smashing her lips against his. You cringed and looked away, making a fake gag face. You hated PDA, maybe just because you had never experienced it with someone, maybe because watching people swap saliva was gross. Who knows. After the two broke apart Jackson led Allie off towards the opening of the dance, looking back at you and nodding for you to follow. You looked down at your beat up boots before sighing and slowly dragging your feet to the front. Alison walked in with Jackson without a second glance at you, just expecting you to blindly follow her into your own personal hell. The overwhelming urge to cover your ears hit you like a ton of bricks, followed quickly by the smell of teenage sweat. You sighed walking over to a table that Allie had thrown her bag on. You sat down and pulled out your pocket sketchbook, grabbing your pencil from the messy bun you had thrown your hair into. You were granted a few fleeting moments of peace before you felt a tap on your shoulder. Upon swinging your head around you were met with a newly familiar pair of eyes. You felt your heart leap through your throat as you stared at the Sturniolo boy. “Hey pretty girl. Wasn’t expecting you to be at one of these, doesn’t seem like your thing.” He spoke in his usual charismatic way though he was forced to a near shout by the loud music. Chris held eye contact with you as he sat in the plastic chair next to you. “It’s not my thing, Allie made me come.” You replied to him in a shout, looking over to where Allie danced with her boyfriend. You sighed before looking back to Chris, a smirk still on his face. “Oh and stop calling me pretty girl. I have a name.” Chris chuckled, causing you to wonder if what you had said was funny. Chris opened his mouth to say something but before he spoke you felt a weight collapse on your shoulders. Your nose was immediately filled with the rosey perfume you knew Allie wore to events. Your hands moved up to hold her arms that had wrapped around you. “Hey Allie.” You said, Allie’s drunken giggling in your ears. She looked up and smiled at Chris. “Hii Chrissy!! I’m so glad you met Y/N, she’s so funnn.” You looked at Chris who was softly admiring you. Eyes darted away as your cheeks grew warmer. You stood, one hand still holding onto Allie’s arms and the other catching your sketchbook. “Come on Allie let’s go dance.” Allie smiled and moved her arms, grabbing your hand instead. You set down your sketchbook and gave a glance to Chris before walking off to the dance floor.

#bobawitch #bobawitch asks #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

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sturnsluv · 8 months ago

Text

meddle about pt. 1

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when Y/N finds herself falling for her big brothers life-long enemy, will she choose love or family?

warnings: mentions of blood

⭒˚.⋆

3:43 pm

I watched Matt storm off, blood dripping from his nose, and chest heaving like some sort of MMA fighter after a match. My head whipped back towards my brother, who stood there like he was some sort of god, shoulders broad, face solemn, and that same bloody nose leaking wine-looking stains all over his white shirt.

“What the hell Jack!” I shouted. This is all they ever do: fight, fight, and fight. My brother Jack and Matthew Sturniolo have hated each other for as long as I can remember, which I completely understand. Matt’s an insufferable dickhead with an ego the size of the Titanic. Despite my best efforts to avoid him, I always manage to find myself around him, caught in the crossfire of their endless feud.

Matt’s brother Nick has been my best friend since 2nd grade when he punched a boy who made fun of the tiara I wore to school that day. Since then, I have been forced into a house that always consists of Matt. Although my hatred partly came from my loyalty to my big brother, Matt’s attitude had a way of making me hate him all by myself. Like all the times he’s made snide comments about Jack’s ability on the hockey team. Or the way he looks at me like his eyes are bullets piercing into my skin with every remark he makes.

“What? he was being a dick!” Jack hollered back, his face contorting with a mix of confusion and anger. His short, permed, brunette hair fell messily in front of his eyes, and the back stuck up all which ways. He stood tall like Dad, but his green eyes came from our Mother.

“Mom is going to kill you Jackson,” I say through gritted teeth, my frustration with their constant fighting boiling over. Mom had explicitly warned Jack that the next fight with Matt would result in him being done with hockey, but it seemed like these two senseless men couldn't keep their hands off each other, no matter the consequences.

Jack only had the energy to roll his eyes at me and stumble away, most likely to go clean up his battered face. I sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of our recurring “Sturniolo” drama settling in once again. Ignoring the turmoil brewing inside me, I reached down to my back pocket and pulled out my phone, immediately clicking on Nick’s contact.

Y/N:

our stupid brothers fought again 🥱

nick😛:

you HAVE to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N:

I wish I were bro

Nick😛:

at this point I think they’re secretly in love and this is all a cover up

I giggle to myself cause honestly, he’s probably right. Nick always has the perfect way of making me laugh, and he’s one of the only people in my life I never feel judged around. Nick has held me as I cried and laughed with me hours later over the stupid boys who’ve broken my heart. He’s even forced Matt to pick me up after I had been stranded at parties or events. Overall, he’s always been there for me. I have other friends of course, but those friendships have never felt real to me, always one-sided on my part.

Looking up I slide my phone back into my pocket and begin the most dreadful trek across the football field. Okay, that was dramatic but looking for Jack isn’t exactly something I'm up for right now. Tonight is going to be restless from the amount of bickering I'm about to hear from him and Mom. The house was already loud enough with Mom and Dad fighting. Ever since I was eight years old, Mom and Dad haven’t gotten along. They’ve tried almost everything to mend their marriage. Even couples counseling, but nothing ever worked, so me and Jack just have to deal with it.

I sigh to myself as my mind races, and the gentle trudge across the field continues toward the locker room, where I assume I’ll find my brother. But the fighting won't even be the worst part of it all. The worst part will be tomorrow when I'm over at Nick’s house, hearing Matt bitch and moan about Jack. I swear every time I’m around him I have to fight the urge to strangle him. All he talks about is the stupid cheerleaders he’s hooking up with, or lacrosse this, hockey that. His voice is unbearable and it’s genuinely the reason I question if I want to go over every time Nick asks.

Suddenly I'm broken out of my thoughts when I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around and see the one and only center of my anger. Matt. His voice cuts through the tension-filled air like a knife. His expression is unreadable, but his body language exudes a mix of exhaustion and hesitation.

“What do you want?” I yell back at him. He’s standing about twenty feet away from me with the same bloody face he had about thirty minutes ago. My face drops when he starts to jog towards me and I’m filled with a feeling of ‘please leave me alone.’

As Matt gets closer the sound of his sneakers hitting the wet, sloshy turf rises, and so does my frustration. “You have a ride home?” He breathes out, panting lightly. Matt places a hand on his knee to steady himself, while the other scratches the back of his neck. His face is flushed and red. The fight obviously damaged him, and he looked nervous to be standing in front of me.

“That’s seriously all you wanted?” My face gains a snarky scowl and I look him up and down, noticing the way his hand is running through the hairs at the back of his neck and the way he lightly taps his foot on the ground. It's apparent he’s on edge, which I assume is because of the fact he just beat my brother's ass, but I couldn’t care less about either of them right now. I mean I do love my big brother, but not when he’s acting so prideful after doing something so wrong. Even if he wasn’t the one to initiate it. Matt’s loud but unsteady voice cuts off my thoughts.

“Well I just assumed Jack left, and Nick's order is to always look after you, even if I want to kick your face in,” He exclaims as he smiles sarcastically at me. I scoff and look away mumbling a quick ‘I’m good’ under my breath. I hear him start to speak, but I cut him off by turning around and continuing my path toward the locker room. I assume at that moment he turns as well, going off in search of his car.

As I walk away my feet drag against the turf, little beads coming up beneath me and I’m overwhelmed with strange, alluring thoughts of Matt’s bloody face.

⭒˚.⋆

11:47 pm

God, will they ever shut up? I listen to Mom’s and Jack’s muffled voices from the kitchen. Tossing and turning in my bed, I put my fluffy, pink pillow around my ears to attempt to surround myself in silence. That doesn’t work as the pillow is too thin, and the yelling continues pounding into my eardrums.

When the school called earlier and told our parents what happened, Mom was pissed immediately. Even though the fight was after school hours, it still took place on “school property” so both Jack and Matt ended up suspended. On any normal occasion, I’d be delighted to hear about Matt’s suspension (as it happens quite frequently), but now that Jack’s involved I think I might go insane. His presence in the chaos only amplifies the tension in our home.

But I keep thinking about Matt, and what he said to me. He’s usually not the type of guy to walk over offering any type of help. He’s one of those mysterious types of guys who always get into trouble, even though you barely see them talk. I think it’s all an egotistical act he does to seem tough. Whenever I’m at Nick’s he’s hidden away in his room playing video games made for children. It’s so out of character of him to even think of me and the more I contemplate, I can’t help but grin. Sitting up on my mattress I slap my face. What the fuck am I thinking? Nothing about Matt Sturniolo should be making me smile. Not the way his hair flops in front of his eyes, or the way his mouth lifts to the side when he smiles. Even the way his arms flex when he wraps his hands around a lacrosse stick. Ew! What am I doing?

I lay my head back on my pillow, letting the thoughts of Matt drift out of my mind. My brain starts to calm and just as I’m about to fall asleep- Ding!

“Ugh,” I verbally groan at the sound of my phone snapping me back awake. I reach my hand out and turn it over, and the bright screen practically blinds me. As my eyes start to adjust I’m finally able to see what the message is.

Matt Sturniolo:

hey I gotta ask you something

⭒˚.⋆

a/n: first chapter lmk what you guys think! 😊 comment to be on my taglist!

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #Spotify #sturnsluv #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 4 months ago

Text

Mr. EVP

Nicholas Jackson X Fem reader

Main Masterlist

Summary: Y/n spoils Nicholas on his special day

An: Today is Nick's Birthday!!! My favourite EVP turns 35 today so of course I had to write a little something for him! This one's a short one since I'm still recovering from Jaw surgery but I hope you enjoy it!

Today was Nicholas’s birthday. I knew all he would want to do is relax since he has been under so much stress recently with work but I wanted to celebrate his special day. I made sure to wake up early and prepare a special breakfast for him. Protein waffles and pancakes and a variety of pastries and fruits scattered around the dining room table as I waited for Nicholas to get up. I was in complete concentration as I frosted the cake for his party later tonight, so much so I didn’t hear him come down the stairs. My concentration only broke when I felt his arms wrap around my waist, kissing my kneck. “Good morning birthday boy” I told him as I turned to face him. “You did all of this for me?” Nicholas asked with a faux inosince. “Of course I did, it’s your special day. Today is all about you baby” I told him as I placed a delicate kiss to his cheek before pouring him a cup of coffee. “How are you feeling this morning?” I asked him concerned. “Are you still sore from Wednesday?” I cringed at the wounds on his chest that shined in the light. “I could be better. I could really use one of your special massages, I think that would really help me” I was quick to notice his light blue eyes turn deep blue. “It’s been so long Y/n” Nicholas’s breath was shaky as he spoke. His body was yearning to be touched, touched in a loving way, not in one of violence and brutality. “I know baby, It’s been way too long” I told him in a soothing tone. “You have been so busy with work, that place has been taking you away from me. Let me take care of you. Let me help you relax. Let me spoil you on your special day” “I would love that”

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daddyhausen · 1 year ago

Note

Can we get 1, 9, 10, 13 from the NSFW prompt list with Kenny Omega and both of the Young Bucks please and thank you

• strangers in the dark — the elite •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { aew masterlist } | { kenny omega masterlist } | { matt jackson masterlist } | { nick jackson masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } — their lust, raw and untamed. they set their sights on you and we’re going to have you by any means necessary

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact } cnc, spanking, free use, degradation, sexual humiliation, group sex, face slapping, public sex, groping, car sex, fingering, corruption, dacryphilia male masturbation, oral sex { male + female receiving }, throat fucking, anal sex, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotetcted sex, male + female orgasms, throatpie, internal cumshots, cumshots, facials, anal creampie, squirting

{ word count } — 1.7k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x kenny omega + matt jackson + nick jackson

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell l @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ 1 } — i love it when you moan my name

{ 9 } — you can get louder, can’t you?

{ 10 } — look at what you do to me

{ 13 } — if you wanna cum you better beg

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

the three of them had you surrounded

backed up against the car door, surrounded by empty vehicles in the seemingly lifeless gym car park

it was dark, the gym practically deserted at this hour

you’d seen them working out a mere hour previously,

having caught their names while they were chatting amongst themselves yet unable to fully distinguish who was who

you assumed the two brunettes were brothers, they looked similar enough

matt and nick, you heard the blonde one call them, yet you did not know which one was which

you felt their glances peer at you from time to time but thought nothing of it

unknowing that they had lust filled eyes for you

their eyes stared deep into you

scanning your flesh as if you were a simple piece of meat in their eyes

nick grabbed both your arms, locking them behind your back with one hand as he snuck behind you

a large palm fell to your right breast, groping the pillowy flesh underneath your sports bra

a smirk fell to his lips, a deep chuckle rumbled against the skin of your neck

“don’t be afraid of us angel, we just wanna have some fun with you”

nick pressed his hips against you, his erection evident against your ass

kenny and matt admired the boldness of the youngest of their trio

matt’s eyes fell to the waistband of your gym shorts, noticing the thin material beginning to soak through

without warning, he stuffed his hand into them

gathering your wetness onto the pad of his fingertips

adoring the way you writhed back against the feeling

hips almost instinctively grinding back against his younger brother’s cock

“looks like she’s enjoying herself, she’s fucking soaked”

matt pulled his fingers from beneath the fabric

bringing his soaked fingers to your tightly pressed lips

him having to pry the petal coloured buds open with his fingers

essentially forcing you to taste yourself

the sensation left you choking and sputtering around his fingertips

hot tears brimmed your water lines as he finally allowed you to breath

yet despite the burning sensation in your throat you enjoyed the taste of yourself

your teary eyes fell to kenny, who merely stood back and watched the scene unfold

his cock pressed firm against his sweatpants, the outline evident in the grey fabric

he made strides towards you slowly, the brothers still having their way with you

you doing nothing to stop their torment, thoroughly enjoying the way they held you in suspense

“look at what you do me”

he forced your head down, tightly gripping the back of your head so that you were now staring at his crotch

he pried the waistband of his sweatpants down, revealing just how hard he had become at the sight

before shielding his modesty once more

kenny reached into your gym bag, fishing around for your car keys

dangling them around in front of your eyes before tossing them to matt who promptly unlocked the car

nick handed you to kenny, who kept you firmly planted against his chest

entering the back seat and quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants

kenny’s lips instantly locking with yours, with surprisingly little resistance on your part

sure, the situation was not ideal

yet you could not seem to find yourself fighting back or rebutting

“now, princess…” kenny began, voice as dark and sultry as ever

“you gonna be a good girl for us and let us play with you?”

you nodded, far too eager given your current predicament

“good” he remarked

matt was far too impatient to get things started, fingers grasping at your thin sports bra

ripping the fabric clean in half

your breasts now exposed to their gaze

you gasped at the sudden chill of air that washed over your nipples

perking the sensitive buds up instantly

“matt be careful, you don’t wanna scare her off now do we?”

the younger looking of the two, who you had calculated must be nick, remarked to his brother, stroking his cock while his ocean blues stared you down

matt batted his long eyelashes with a display of faux innocence, toying with the ripped fabric between his fingertips

“oh sweet brother, you don’t have to be a gentleman” matt remarked, flailing his hands in a mildly exaggerated manner

“kenny said we could be rough with her” matt’s words made your blood run cold, although you were not sure if with fear or anticipation

“besides, she deserves it after that little show she put on for us back there”

what show?! the last thing you remember doing were squats in the mirror and it surely was not for their enjoyment

“oh yeah…you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you, angel?” nick interjected, through a groan

“teasing us with that pretty little ass of yours-“

“enough talk” the blonde, kenny had forcibly turned you around, pushing you to your knees

the gravel was coarse against your knees, making you wince poking the skin as he held your head still, facing nick’s cock

kenny’s fingers knotted in your scalp, slowly pushing your face closer to nick’s crotch

“let’s see how much of a slut she really is”

kenny forced your head down, lips pried open by the tip of nick’s cock

the youngest of the three quickly asserting his dominance, taking your head from kenny’s grasp as you whimpered and choked around his surprisingly large size

“shit, look at her! i’ve never seen a slut more hungry for cock” matt remarked despite your obvious attempts to free yourself

feeling utterly humiliated under their gaze

kenny and matt sat back for a moment, simply watching the sight unfold

the blonde reached into his sweatpants, prying his cock from the thick fabric, pre-cum coating his tip as he slowly began to pump himself

matt felt himself grow hard, secretly wishing you were choking on his cock instead of his brother’s

nick gripped the car door, his knuckles burning bone white with pleasure

quickly he pried your head up, at least allowing you to breathe for a moment

“nick…” you whimpered, more like a plea than a statement of his name as air finally entered your lungs

hot tears rolled down your cheeks, begging for the torment to stop

nick’s cock twitched at the sound of his name leaving your puffy lips

aroused at how well it rolled of your tongue

“i love it when you moan my name, angel”

he was quick to resume his movements

stuffing his cock down your throat just as quickly as he pried it out

kenny thought it was his turn to interject

offering matt a parting glance for the moment as he stood behind you

the blonde propped you up, now standing slightly, mouth still full with nick

kenny, doing as matt had previously done and ripped your gym shorts clean in half

he motioned for the older brother to join him, matt’s eyes lit up at the direction

“eat her out while i fuck her ass”

matt’s smirk only grew upon kenny’s instructions

positioning himself underneath you, your folds laced with your wetness, he could practically smell how sweet you were

stroking his cock as the tip of his nose nestled in between your folds

kenny lined his cock up with your puckered hole, not even bothering to at least use his spit as lube

he wanted to force his cock deep into you, feel how well your tight hole takes his size

he wanted to hear you scream and beg for even a shred of mercy

kenny filled you deeply, even with some resistance from your tiny hole

your mildly pained screams muffled around nick’s shaft, he was mesmerised by the sound of your cries

matt wasted no time, diving in tongue first, adoring the way you tried to desperately to pry your cunt away from his tongue

it proved futile as it only sent your back against kenny’s cock

“c’mon, princess. you can get louder, can’t you?”

kenny mocked as both brother’s lungs filled with sadistic laughter

matt’s tongue vibrated against your cunt, sending shockwaves down your thighs

nicks cock throbbed in the back of your throat, signalling his end nearing

and you must admit, despite the mental turmoil, you adored the way kenny’s cock stretched out your puckered hole.

“oh fuck-“ nick came down your throat with no warning,

his hot seed feeling like it was filling your lungs with the amount he had released.

he pulled out of your throat, the sound of your choked moans was heavenly, like a choir of angels.

“shit i think she’s close-“ matt remarked, adding his index and middle finger to aid in your pleasure

pumping your swollen cunt while his tongue teased your aching clit

nick harshly slapped your cheek, the buildup of colour burning your flesh

repeating the action until your skin stained pink with his hand print

“if you wanna cum, you better beg, sweetheart”

matt’s breathy words fluttered delicately against your clit despite how violently he was eating you out

kenny offered harsh slaps to your ass, a form of motivation for himself to cum as he watched the flesh jiggle with each slap and thrust he gave

“please…please…”

your begs sounded so hopeless and pathetic, just the way they loved it

kenny was quick to fill you up, his seed dripping from your puckered hole as he pulled out

such a delicious sight it was

matt grew impatient with your lack of orgasm up until this point

increasing the speed and force of his fingers as well as his tongue

he could not help but cum himself

his cum splashing onto your stomach

dripping down your thighs and cunt in small beads of white

“fucking cum you stupid whore, he hasn’t got all night”

nick slapped your cheek once more, the initial sensation made your cunt quiver around matt’s tongue

eventually spilling over, sweetness glistening in his dark beard as he drank you in

the three of them stood around as you lay helpless and naked in the gravel

staring you down like vicious wolves after using you

“what shall we do with her now?” kenny questioned the brothers as they tried to regain her breath

matt turned to his younger brother, shrugging at the blondes question

“lets take her home with us” nick proposed

“i bet she’ll be very useful to us”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#the elite #the elite x reader #the elite smut #matt jackson smut #nick jackson smut #kenny omega smut #aew #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #aew imagine #aew wrestling #aew fanfiction

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delilahcalicocat · 8 months ago

Text

Darling~ {Nicholas / Nick Jackson}

-✉️ Requested

-❤️‍🔥 small bit of smut :)

-💚- Storyline with Fem! Reader

TWs: Mentions of sexual acts, Reader is Dating both of the Young Bucks (Nick is a little more possessive than Matt), Yandere Personality traits, Nick calls Reader His Little Star, a small tad of cursing

{♧}~{♧}~{♧}~{♧}~{♧}~{♧}

Summary: Nick just returned from his big match at Revolution, and wants. No Needs. His Woman

Word Count: around 1k or 2k

Nick had last seen you before March 3rd, He was a wreck. He and his brother never shared they were dating the top contender for the AEW woman's championship Y/N.

As Nick and Matt sat in their locker room before the big main event, Nick looked at his phone which had a message from his girlfriend that read.

["Missing you :("]

He replied simply with a:

["Missing you too dear"]

He then put his phone down and looked at his brother and asked

"You think Y/N Misses us?"

Matt sighed a bit before saying

"Not after the week before we left. She probably can't even walk still"

Nick slapped Matt's arm playfully and chuckled

"Your probably right."

Nick continued on with the night, even after a loss. He didn't care he rushed backstage. He was frantically looking for his phone, He muttered under his breath how he needed to text his beloved Y/N. He found his phone and immediately texted Y/n

["Sorry My little star.. but we lost."]

Y/N replied with a frown emoji

["I know, Matt and Me weren't expecting to lose."]

He growled and slammed his phone down then, the force was enough to shatter his phone screen

"Ugh! Why the Hell did I do that!?"

He said, Matt staring at him confused

"Goddammit!"

Nick was seemingly upset about breaking his phone screen

"Nick calm down its just a screen!"

"Calm down? Calm Down!?"

Nick was fuming at his brother

"I can't talk to my little star because I just broke my phone!"

He growled

*time skip to after getting off the plane*

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"I wish Y/N was here..."

Nick said, sitting alone in the airport

"Matt went on another flight home. I'll be here until Y/N arrives.."

Nick sat there for over 4 hours

Until you got into the airport, he immediately stood up when he saw you, you ran to him and hugged him like you always would.

Wrapped around him like a koala, cuddling him as you two walked out of the airport to your car.

"So who's driving?" Nick jokingly asked

"Me of course!" You said back with smirk

"Really Star? I'm surprised you can walk"

"Oh! How dare you!" You playfully slapped Nick

You two got in the car, you sat in the passenger seat since Nick insisted you had to.

Halfway through the drive to the hotel, you curiously grabbed Nick's thigh

He jumped at the contact and then looked at you

"Don't you dare little star."

He firmly said

You persisted and kept your hand on his thigh.

He chuckled coldly and grabbed your chin to make you look up at him

"When we get back to the Hotel, you'll be paying for this Darling~"

"What do you mean?"

You asked him blinking innocently

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

He said to you

you scoffed a little

"Just try not to break the bed and pay extra this time"

You chuckled

"I won't, but it'll be enough to make you sore."

{♡} Thank you for reading, Part 2 is soon {♡}

#aew fanfiction #nick jackson x reader #aew smut #fem!reader #aew x reader

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edgessunflower · 9 days ago

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Changing sides

Pairing: Rey Fenix x Fem reader

Description: You turn on your older brothers Matt and Nick Jackson during their feud with Rey and Penta revealing your relationship with rey

You and Rey held each other in his hotel room sharing one more kiss before you snuck out back to your room to get ready for the day and have breakfast with your brothers Nick and Matt before all of you worked out and relaxed before lunch and another work out then getting ready for that night's show of Dynamite. For the last three months you and rey had been taking things slow with no one especially his brother Penta and both your brothers having no clue about your relationship over the last five months and the pressure from your brothers about not just becoming a top female wrestler in the company but also to be as known as them was starting to get to you and making your anxiety act worse than it ever had before over the last two weeks ans it was breaking rey's heart seeing just how on edge you were all the time due to the stress of your career and the pressure from nick and matt, "Remember, young buck gal" you quietly nodded at matt's words as the three of you stood by the curtain for their match against rey and penta with you and Pac at ringside as the match immediately took off and the heat only grew as the match went on for the next twenty minutes and at every turn to give your brothers a hand up in the match you refused even when they saw you shake your head with your hands up at penta when he noticed how close to the apron you were which made them confused. Nick telling you to jump in and have the match end with no winners but finally you had enough as you looked at pac when he saw you slowly climbed up on the apron but everyone was left stunned when you jerked matt down and jumped in the ring clotheslining nick while the ref was dealing with penta behind their backs, you and rey stared at each other before you kissed him making the crowd absolutely lose it as you crawled out leading to penta and rey winning the match smiling as rey lifted you in his arms kissing each other before you waved at matt and nick while on the apron before heading backstage where rey asked you why you did what you did out in the ring and the only reason you have was him and explained that you had enough of the demands from your brothers and wanted to be your own person hugging rey as the two of you left the arena hand in hand.

#aew x reader #rey fenix #rey fenix x reader #aew

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itjazzbicch · 2 years ago

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Best Friends Brother

Pairing: Matt Jackson x Fem Reader

Summary: The reader being in the Elite, has always been best friends with Nick, but hid the truth about her crush on his older brother Matt. Once alone, Matt calls her bluff and neither of them can hold back when they admit the truth…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!)

Word Count: 1.5k

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks @rubyred1980

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

"Hey, you'll be okay by yourself for a second right?"

We had such a long day of traveling and all I wanted to do was lay down, but still being kind, looking at Nick from the bed:

"You want me to go pick up the food? I know you're tired."

"It's okay," He smiled, heading to the door, "I have some stuff to handle with Brandon anyhow. You relax."

"You're the best, Nick," I smiled, laying back in bed.

Nick was the best friend I could ever ask for, even while tired, he was still doing stuff for us to have a good night before the show. But the second Nick walked out of the door, I jumped at my phone ringing.

Matt.

The one thing that drained my energy in this friendship was how hard I was crushing on Matt. I was just afraid that it would hurt Nick and I's friendship like that's his older brother.

Any time I talked to Matt, my body naturally made a sweet voice, answering:

"Hey, Mattie."

"Hey girl," He had the same sweet voice, asking, "I'm on my way to the hotel. You and Nick made it right?"

"Yeah, I'm just hanging out," I smiled up at the ceiling, loving the sound of his voice, "Nick just went out to get us some food with Brandon."

"Nice," Hearing some footsteps in the background, I could tell he was close, "You won't be alone here in a minute. Just got here."

"Okay, I'll see you in a second," I sat up in bed when I hung up, straightening up the room knowing Matt and I would be alone.

Just the thought was making my heart race, but sat in bed, cool as a cucumber when Matt walked in.

"There's my girl," He smiled while stepping in, putting up his suitcase and taking off his shoes.

One thing that always aroused my curiosity was how Matt acted differently when Nick wasn't around. When Nick was around, quiet, would stay platonic, but alone? He was really himself.

My cheeks heated up at the way he said that, calling me his girl. Not looking at him directly I still answer, "And there's my Mattie."

It surprised me that there was a moment of awkward silence, Matt was straightforward about it, reading my body language at the end of the bed:

"Why are you always so nervous when we're alone?"

"Nervous?" I chuckled to play it off, but damn it, I sounded nervous, and Matt? Was he a mind reader?

Hitting the nail on the head, he laid on the bed, head resting in his hands and kicking his feet, smiling:

"I know why."

"I'd love to hear your answer," I was already racing through thoughts about how this would go, defeated when he answered:

"You like me."

Nothing was my response, but he kept reading me like a book and added:

"And I bet the only reason why you haven't made a move is because of Nick?"

"He's my best friend," I looked down, letting him know he was right, fidgeting with my hands, "I just don't want it to make anything weird you know?"

"I know," He acknowledged, but was smiling, "But it's your life. If you want something, go for it. If you want me-"

Connecting with his gaze, I stared deeper while he crawled up the bed a little to be closer, a smirk on his face:

"Go for it, because I'm tired of beating around the bush."

There was no denying that I felt the same way, how badly I wanted him, how much he was always on my mind and I've dreamt about moments like this. I wasn't letting it slip away.

"So. you won't mind if I do this?" It was my turn to make a move, leaning closer to kiss, pressing my lips while I took a deep breath, and when our kiss broke? All of the chains that held us broke too.

Clothes disappeared while kissing each other as much as we could and once I was down to my tank top with no bra, Matt took me by the thighs, throwing me on my back, spreading my legs wide:

"I am pretty hungry and I know exactly what I want to eat."

Whining at the hard suck on my clit, my hand was already holding his head, Matt letting his hair down for me to pull, then doing exactly what he said, eating me from the inside out.

Every swift lick of his tongue had my body jerking, holding his head by the hair and grinding against his face, a burn from his beard and none of that phased him, only devouring more with the small breaths he took.

My vision was growing blurry, kitten-like lick at my clit along with his finger slipping into me, pumping slowly before adding another, then pumping as quick as he could, nerves so wild that my body started lifting me with shakes:

"Sweet Jesus, Matt!" I cried at how hard I came, falling to my back and squirming at how tight I was around his fingers, both of us coming to a stop when we heard my phone ringing.

It was Nick.

Matt was sitting up on his knees, readying himself for when I was done, answering the phone:

"Hey Nick, what's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know, things didn't really go according to plan with Brandon and filming some BTE, but we just got the food. So, we'll be back in a bit," Nick explained, my head nodding and wanting to end this conversation:

"Okay, I'm here, so-"

Mid-sentence, Matt had his cock positioned at my entrance and slammed right into me, having me whine hard at it while on the phone, almost dropping it and I heard Nick:

"Y/N?! You good?"

"Yeah," I huffed out quickly, biting my lip to hide moans when Matt started rolling his hips, laughing under his breath and delivering quicker thrusts, trying his hardest to get me to break, "I just stubbed my toe is all. I'll see you when you get here!"

I threw my phone after I hung up, sitting up slightly and grabbing Matt by the hair, pulling him down to kiss and bite his lip:

"You think that's real funny, huh?"

"I wasn't letting him ruin my fun," He snickered, freeing his lip with his tongue going into our kiss, taking my wrists and pinning them down to the bed, slamming his hips harder, "And if he's coming back, I better make you cum quickly."

"You mother-" I went to scold him, but the pleasure building up from my toes to my head was so good, burning up at the touch of our skin, chest to chest while he began to kiss my neck, feeling hard sucks, "Matt!"

Getting me off wasn't going to be a hard task with the way he was going, his soft grunts and growls adding to it all, shifting his hips so my legs were higher in the air, the grip on my wrists even tighter.

"Think that, stubbing your toe, will be a good enough excuse when you're walking with a limp?" He loved to poke at me, in this manner, it only wired me up more, walls clenched and spasming at that tone along with the tip of his cock hitting my deepest spots.

"I sure as hell hope so!" My eyes were shut so tight, feeling his forehead against mine, the tensity in both our bodies as I started to unravel.

"You know, I think I just heard the elevator. Can't really tell when you're moaning my name so loud," He teased one more time before growing serious, his voice deep and low when he commanded, "Cum for me."

"I am cuming, Matt!" My legs latched around his waist and locked, shaking and my nails digging into my palms when I formed fists, gasping for air and gushing around him, whining his name softly as he let his cock enjoy it with soft thrusts, kissing:

"Fuck, that's so good."

"Good isn't the word," I whispered against his lips, both of us stopping when we heard footsteps at the door.

We have never moved so quickly, a struggle to get dressed with how bad my legs were shaking, thankfully that I wore a hoodie tonight. I was hoping I would be able to hide the shake in my legs when I sat upright in the bed, covering the wet spot I left with a blanket, and wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

Matt was sitting in the chair next to the bed, fixing himself in his sweats, throwing on his hoodie too, and so nonchalant that you would never expect that we were just going at it like animals.

"Food has arrived!" Brandon stepped in first, coming to the dresser to unload it with Nick.

"Sweet," I smiled, hoping I seemed normal, taking my food from Nick:

"Here's yours and yours."

Whenever he handed Matt his food, Matt's eyes were on me, teasing knowing only I knew what he meant:

"Thank you. I've been needing something tasty."

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling oneshot #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew smut #aew oneshot #matt jackson #matt jackson xreader #matt jackson imagine #matt jackson fic #matt jackson smut #matt jackson oneshot #read and enjoy

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