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soft-persephone · 11 months ago

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An Easily Avoidable Accident (But I Needed it so Bad)

Sub!Nick Miller x Black!Fem!Reader

I do write with Black Women in mind, but my fics can be read by any woman.

AN: Thank you to my friends that helped me with this fic! It means so much to me and I am so grateful for your generosity! I truly hope you all enjoy this final product!

MDNI // Rating: Explicit // WC 3.8k // Warnings: light Sub!Dom vibes, mild exhibition kink, biting, marking, thing for sounds, extra light hand kink // masterlist

Nick and You had the entire loft to yourselves.

That meant you two had time for anything. No prying eyes and no need to be quiet or fear of being caught by anyone.

Naturally, that meant they had a no pants day.

Nick could free ball it in his boxers and you could wear that little tank top you liked to sleep in and walk around in your underwear.

“I’m pretty sure you were a man in your past life.” Nick joked as you excitedly shimmied out of your sweats and threw them on the other side of the couch.

“There is nothing wrong with me wanting to do this as bad as you! This is normal for all human beings!” You defended yourself with a huff.

“Yes, lots of people enjoy wearing less clothes at home, but you are excited about it in a man way. I can’t explain how, I’m just saying. . . It takes one to know one.”

You smushed his face with a hand and walked past him to the kitchen.

“Fuck you,” you playfully scoffed, “what do you want for breakfast?”

The rest of the day was pleasantly uneventful. As the day went by and the evening wined down, Nick had put his loose sweats back on.

They were old, thin, and ratty. He definitely could not wear them in public anymore.

“You might as well just not wear any pants.” You smiled at him, more out of shock than anything else. You weren’t sure what to think about such a horrible piece of clothing.

“They’re house pants!”

“Your dick is right there!” You yelled back. “It’s like if boxers came in pants size!”

He threw a pillow at you and you threw one back before he wrestled you onto the couch.

Excitement aside.

He was in his favorite spot on the couch, but in an even better way! He could prop his legs up and lean back as comfortable as he wanted to be.

He was a fucking king on his throne and he couldn’t be happier.

You were still walking around in your skimpy underwear and tank top.

He would have wanted you to go throw some pants before the guys come back, but hopefully it was one of those nights where they all found some women to hook up with and stay the night, or just fuck off somewhere.

Instead, he was too comfortable with your ass on his lap and you laying the opposite way on top of him, on your stomach, typing away on your laptop and shifting a hoard of papers to and fro, taking the moment of spare time to get ahead on some work while he lazily watched the game.

Or at least tied to.

God bless them, but he didn’t give a fuck about the Lions and who they were playing.

On any other given day he would have, but it’s hard to remember his love for sports when your hips keep sliding back and forth on him whenever you sit up real quick to get a better look at a paper, your hips pushed forward, right over his dick. Once you finally highlight or read whatever you were trying to read carefully, your hips moved back toward his chest and over his dick once again, leaving him to think of nothing but of how sexy you were.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a more intimate setting.

Hell, even at this moment.

You two in this loft alone, on this very couch in this very moment, naked for no one but God to see, you riding him just like this giving him no choice but to take whatever you gave him.

He brought a hand to his mouth and bit his finger, hard. Willing himself to stay still and not thrust his hips up onto your clothed pussy.

He needed a distraction, but football wasn’t working. You moving your hips and shuffling every five minutes wasn’t working either. Why were you suddenly moving your hips up and down on him like that?.

You slid your hips forward before sighing in frustration and moving them back until his dick was crushed under the weight of your stomach.

Were you trying to kill him? Did you somehow not notice his growing erection?

You sat up, quickly dragging your hips forward, again! But this time it wasn’t where he needed it. This time he needed you on his cock, desperately at that.

“Nick, you okay?” You turned your head back, putting down a paper. The movement causes you to push your glasses back on your nose.

Fuck, you were cute. He hoped you ran out of your contacts forever.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his chest to hide the sound of his moan.

“Nick?”

“Y—yeah.. yeah I’m good. . “ he managed to mumble out.

Solid cover dumbass.

He couldn’t help going back to the thought of you both naked. You turning around to look at him with a different look on your face.

“You got so tense all of a sudden.” You continued before turning around back to your work. “And I know you don’t care about the Lions losing, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything serious.”

“N…no.”

Oh, he was just making it worse, but you were a bigger dumbass than him, apparently. He says it lovingly, but how did you not know?!?!? Were you that into your work?

“Well, just let me know if anything changes.”

You give a quick wink before you turn around, and he moans.

His hips cant up with such force you bounce up and back down on him, and he couldn’t stop the whimper in time.

He covered his face, letting the sounds come out.

“Nick?” Your voice was in a fucking panic and it was embarrassing to say the least.

You try to move but he quickly grasps your hips. His nails are almost digging into your skin.

“Nonodontmove!” He slurs, his voice rising at a higher octave that makes you throb. “Stay,” he was panting now, his chest rising and falling as you put your hands over his,” please,” he openly whined, not holding back or caring anymore,” stay.”

Oh fuck…

You licked your lips and fought against the panic. “Yeah?”

“Can you just wait a little bit longer for me? I Promise to do something as soon as i'm done.”

“Okay,” he licked his lips, his eyes growing full and watery in such a way you wanted to hold your breath.

He looked at you with such adoration and emotion you swore you would die if you didn't look away. They were softer now, much softer. He looked more calm. A stranger to how desperate and wild they were seconds ago, but you weren't fooled.

No, there was a deeper, more sinister side to this yearning gaze.

While he saved putting his heart on his sleeve for rare tender moments, it was also a fucking weapon. A weapon created for your own demise. You fought the urge to give in, to throw her papers aside and everything she’s been working on to give him whatever he wanted.

But you couldn't. No matter how bad you needed it, you couldn’t.

You were emailing back and forth with a client and Xaiviar was cc’d on it as well. He was the lead lawyer on a case and you were helping him with it. The client was about to drop the case altogether, but you managed to find some evidence that would ensure the jury was siding in her favor.

If she was patient and held out, she would get everything she deserved and the bastard that hurt her could pay.

You just needed some fucking time!

Nick found a documentary about gorillas.

Nice!

As much as he loved them and tried to bring up the essay he wrote on them one morning after doing a bunch of mystery pills that he took one night, he could care less about them right now. He loved you just a tiny bit more.

He bit his lip and tried to let his better nature take hold of him.

Nick's hands were gliding across your skin. Smoothing and kneading the plump flesh of your thighs before coming up to rest at your hips for while, but it didn’t last. He soon became antsy, needing to touch you.

Hoping that just the feel of you in his hands would be enough to distract him from how hard he was. That it wouldn’t make anything worse for him.

But it was making it worse for you.

You could hardly concentrate.

After rediscovering every curve and dip of your body. Every scar, bump, and blemish of your smooth supple skin. It always held a subtle glow, bringing attention to your more than lovely over and undertones. He wanted to put you on display so everyone could see this much of your skin.

The world deserve to know how beautiful your skin was. How beautiful you were.

He decided to test puting his hands on your thighs to see if that would help. His fingers gently graze against your inner thighs. Going up and up until he was too close to your center, daring not to get too close, and moving them back towards your knee. He couldn't stop.

It was mindless action, hypnotizing even.

“Nick,” your tone was bitter in your mouth, sounding harsh to your owne ears, “stop it.”

You snapped around to face him with a glare.

Where these emotions were coming from was a mystery to you, but the foreign feeling twisted your stomach with anticipation.

Nick's eyes were half lidded and struggling to stay open. He gurgled out a moan, the action making him cover his face with his hands.

“Nick. . .” You absentmindedly licked your lips, “let me see your face.”

Nick's chest had been moving up and down erratically since you turned around. His soft pants spurred you on.

Your mind was racing with what to possibly say or do next.

Nick slowly placed his hands on his chest, rubbing at it in circles with his left hand. A sign that usually meant he was anxious.

Every part of him was strained in concentration towards you as if the mere thought of looking away would hurt too much. His eyes were dark, wet, and needy.

Your mouth fell open in a silent o, and you ground your hips down in one fluid motion causing you both to moan.

You both were so fucked.

A wave of something was washing over you. It crashed and crashed against your entire being and the anxiety bubbled in fear of it taking you under, whatever this was. The foreign lightning of it all cracked and crackled in your veins.

Your laptop quipped out a short sound. Then, and only then, you notice how quiet the room was.

You momentarily turned, checking the message in your email.

Dear Ms, I am sorry for getting so indecisive at such a crucial time in the case. Everything has just been so stressful. I wanted it all to be over as quickly as possible, adn i got in the way of you adn your firm doing the job that I, myself hired you to do. I am so terribly sorry. I would liek to see this man put behind bars for good or worse.

Thank you again for everything. I leave my fate in your hands.

Thank, God!

You said a quick prayer, and emailed your client back, making sure to cc Xaiviar.

You closed your laptop and shuffled your papers back into a bifold, tossing them along the further end of the couch, but not so far that they’d fall.

Keeping your position, you turned slightly, moving Nicks shirt up as high as it could go. You eyed his chest, the wide expanse of hair there you’ve obsessed over from time to time, the happy trail that was also a favorite of yours.

Nick’s body moved with the flow of your hand.

“Please,” his voice was higher and strained as stuttered the words out, “please, I’ll be so good please. Just please.”

You ground your hips on his, masking are you were positioned in just the right spot. The feeling of him through your underwear just felt to good. Your movements were slow and steady. Just enough to drive you both crazy, but not nearly enough for either of you.

The anticipation of it was thrilling. Your heads grew headier and headier with each sound he made. With every stutter, pant, and moan he made

The door clicked and you both froze.

“What pray tell is going on in here?” A voice boomed.

Nick cleared his throat and put his hands in a more casual position at your waist. Squeezing lightly just to keep you still.

“Hey, Coach.” It came out gravely but natural.

You were surprised, thinking about how he sounded like he was going to explode just a few moments earlier.

“Don’t, “hey Coach me. You weirdo.” He scoffed. “Go have sex in your room like the rest of us! Just because you're having sex with the same girl every night doesn’t make it okay to play exhibitionist!”

“Nick and his girl is doing what!” Winston slammed the door. “That’s disgusting!”

“Mhmm.” Coach sassily added.

“Oh. My. God.” Nick covered his face with his hands.

Needless to say. All the sexual tension was sucked out of the room. Sitting like this on Nick‘’a lap was starting to make you feel overexposed and awkward.

He reached over and stretched to pull the blanket usually strown accross the couch to cover your body with. You silently thanked him, and avoided looking Coach or Winston in the eye.

“You,” Coach pointed at you,” I am very disappointed in.”

“But, Ernie—“ you pouted.

“—No!” He interrupted. “No Earnie! From now on you call me Coach just like everyone else!”

“Bu—“

“No buts! You have to earn your way back up to calling me my name! “ he shook his head at you with so much disgust it felt absurd.

He was really mad at you. . .

“Now you two go to your room and think about what you did!”

“Mh mh mh.” Winston shook his head with an equal amount of distaste.

Needless to say you both retreated into Nick's room for a very awkward and short walk of shame.

“Please. . . Oh, wait. . . Fuck.” Nick moaned before whimpering out your name.

You made him cum with your hand twice, then three times with your mouth, and one more time after that because you just couldn’t help yourself.

His hands were gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles were white.

You had your hands braced against his chest and you slowly sat on his cock. He was stretching you wide with how thick he was. In this new position, it felt even thicker, making it harder than normal.

“Please,” his voice several octaves higher, letting you know just how close he was. “Let me help. Let me touch you.” He strained out before gritting his teeth.

“I.. got it.” You had to fight your instinct to tense your whole body once you had finally taken all of him in. He was so big and thick you could just feel him pressing against your spot already, making you breathless in the process.

You massaged his chest. Starting with his shoulders, and moving down to his pecs. You squeezed them, reveling in the feeling of his pliant flesh in your hands. In another time or setting you would have liked to bend down and suck on one. Biting and relishing the feeling is him in your mouth, so hard he’d bruise for weeks, fading until stray marks of your teeth were implanted into his skin.

Keeping your hands there for balance, you slowly rose up until only his tip was inside before grinding down slowly until all of him was inside of you again.

“Your doing so good baby.”

His cock twitched inside of you at the praise, making your mouth fall open in a silent moan.

You quickened your pace ever so lightly. Nick’s hands fisting the sheets. Each one spurred you on further, filling you with an unbearable heat. It seers through every pore of your body. Opening up every space of your skin, consuming every part of Nick as possible.

His whines, his pants, and his moans. The way his skin turned an angry red all over. Proudly displaying the evidence that you both were on fire.

“Touch me” You moaned softly.

He was on you in an instant. He pushed himself up by his elbows. His hands, his massive warm hands roamed every inch of your skin. Burning you in their haste to feel your waist, the expense of your back, and the peaks of your breast. He pulled, squeezed, and tweaked them until you had to push his hands away.

“Not nice is it?” He huffed in your face with a short laugh. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours. Where his began and yours stopped was indistinguishable as you both panted in the sliver of space between one another.

He leaned in for a kiss, and you pulled your head back slightly out of his reach with similar amusement.

“I never gave you permission to kiss me.”

His eyes grew wide and blown out. His brown irises drowned in the pools of his pupils as he looked at you with such reverence.

He quickly pivoted and moved to mouthing at your neck, biting you hard as he whined into your flesh.

“You're such a good boy Nick,” his hips thrust up into yours, hard. “Oh, you're so so good.” He did it again this time before squeezing his fingers into you. His nails were sure to leave little moons into your skin for weeks.

You laughed. It was breath, trained, and cruel.

“Ah, ah, ah,” You grabbed his hair tightly, pulling his mouth off of you. “I wanna hear you baby. I thought you were my good boy?”

“I am! I am, please!” He whimpered into your skin, keeping his head underneath your chin, his mouth open and close to you. Because if he couldn’t keep his mouth on you, he’d find a way to get as close to it as possible without disobeying you.

“You gotta let me hear every sound that comes out of your mouth baby, okay?”

His fingers adjusted their grip on your hips, pulling and stretching at your skin as tight as it could go, making hissed in response. Even when his brain was fuzzy with arousal and he was overwhelmed with praise or reprimand from you, he could still do the little things that drove you wild. Whether he was in control or not, he could bite, mark, and rough you up in all the ways you loved.

He’s going to drive you mad. You're sure of it now.

“I need your help baby?” You moved so you both would be eye to eye with one another. “I need you fuck me now.” You cupped both sides of his face. “I can’t get us both where we need to be.” You kissed him all over. His cheeks, his forehead, up and down his neck, before you bit down in several places, sucking harder than you ever had. He let out a soft meek sound you didn’t think was possible. Almost gentle if his voice wasn’t such a low raspy thing. Almost gravely sometimes when it wasn’t smooth and addicting.

The closest thing you could describe it as would be a mewl of some kind. It was a sound only you could pull out of him. A side of him only you were privy to. No one else.

Your walls clenched around him at the sound. He did it again.

“Fuck, baby.” Your chest heaved. “I’m not gonna last much longer, I need you to fuck me, now.” You pulled his hair for emphasis.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He rutted his hips into yours at a hard, brutal pace. And with every high pitched murmur of good boy, your so good, your so perfect for me, he thrust up into you harder.

“Love you baby,” you nibbled into his ear, “love how good you feel inside me. It's like you were made for me.” You kissed him as hard as you could without getting lost of how he was sliding in and out of you. The loud wet slaps of his hips hitting yours were filling the room, driving you both crazy. “You're mine. My baby boy, so good for me.”

He whimpered again, mewling into your ear as he cradled your neck with one final grip as he came. Filling you up. It was so so much. Your legs grew tight, your muscles squeezing past their limit before you followed him soon after.

He pulled out laying you down on your back. Peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“You're amazing!” His eyes sparkled.

“Was that really your first time doing something like that?” You grabbed at the sheets to hide your face. It was hot and burning even more so after the sex you just had. You did not want to talk about it.

“Hey, hey,” he uncovered your face and moved to straddle your lap. He grabbed your hands and put them over your head. “Please,” he looked into your eyes again,. “Don’t hide from me. I really want to know.”

It was what you two did.

When things were too tough to talk about. . . Or weird and embarrassing. Eye contact just worked. It made you both feel safer and calmer to see the other person wasn’t judging you. That they were genuine in whatever way they wanted to support you.

You nodded weakly. Not trusting your words.

“Well you're a natural.”

“Nick we gotta—“

“—Don’t worry. I will buy a planb for you tomorrow. We got a little carried away and forgot about condoms.” He waved his free hand in dismissal before smiling. “It’s okay. I got it handled.”

“I was going to ask if you could let me go now.”

“Let you go.” He tightened his grip on your hands. He still wore his charming smile, but his eyes were growing dark and cloudy, pooling with desire. “Now why would I let you go when I have to pay you back for every time you wouldn’t let me kiss or touch you.”

He suddenly thrust his thick very hard cock into you, still wet from both of you.

“I'm not done with you yet.”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

Please let me know if you ever want to be tagged on my fics! It’s no trouble at all and I would be honored to do so!

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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

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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

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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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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

I have a Joel request 🥰 Maybe reader was pregnant when the beginning of the pandemic happened and they got separated until years later when they reunite and their kid is older?? Whether or not joel knows about the pregnancy is up to you 🫠

Fluffy and angsty if you wish, but please not too angsty cause my heart is still healing from that angst fic 😅💔

(I see someone has already brought up a similar idea, but I thought I'd request for your take on the story cause I can never get enough of your writing!!!)

AN | Don’t worry babe, I’ve got you! But really I love this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Joel?" your voice shook, and it was so painfully obvious that you were trying not to cry. Then again, a lot of people had been doing a lot of crying lately. You couldn't blame them; the world had basically ended.

And now it felt like yours was ending all over again. Fuck.

You padded into the living room of the apartment that now served as home for god knows how long. You found him sitting on the couch and staring out the window. He wasn't paying attention to what was going on out there, which happened to be very bleak at the moment.

"Joel?" you called his name again, moving closer and hesitantly putting your hand on his shoulder. He startled easily lately; you didn't want to be the cause of it. He finally snapped back into attention and looked at you, all dark circles and empty eyes. It broke your heart, "I-I have something to tell you."

He remained quiet but looked raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, suddenly at a loss for words.

How were you supposed to tell him that you were pregnant?

The world had come apart at the seams and he'd just lost his daughter. This was absolutely the worst in the world for all of this to happen.

You waved your hands for a moment, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole, "I-I'm-"

Before you could go any further, a loud knocking came at the door. Both of you startled as Joel jumped up and walked over to the door, opening it hurriedly, "what?"

"New horde of infected," a man's gruff voice reached your ears, "FEDRA wants everyone to pack up and go now."

"How far away?"

"Less than a mile."

You did not like the sound of that. A lump welled up in your throat as you looked at Joel helplessly. His face hardened into an unreadable expression before he gave the man, you were pretty sure his name was Nick, a hard nod, “we’ll be ready to go.”

“Good,” he was already moving along to the couple next door, “now go, there’s no time to lose.”

Joel slammed the door shut before letting out a long sigh. He was tired, so, so tired, but he couldn’t just give up. He had to keep going, he had to keep pushing.

“Joel?”

“Pack a bag, whatever you want grab,” he motioned towards the bedroom, “it doesn’t really matter anymore, but get what you need.”

“What’s going to happen?” your mind was reeling with worry; about you, him, the baby, and whatever the hell was about to go down, “I-I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” he set his large hands on your shoulders, “but right now you can’t worry about that. Just focus on getting your stuff and leaving. Ten minutes, okay? Then we have to get over to the FEDRA station and leave. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed shakily, already padding back to your bedroom to get the few possessions you had felt in the world.

Joel nodded as he went to grab his stuff, knives and guns and other weapons, agreeing to meet at the door shortly.

Time seemed to move in a combination of incredibly fast and wickedly slow and before you knew it, Joel was calling for you to leave. You met him at the door the two of you looked at each other in silent understanding.

The trek over to the FEDRA outpost wasn’t far and the other people in the small community were already in a panic to get out, all scrambling around each other. You grew nervous, wondering if you’d be able to get out in time.

Joel’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you closer to the vehicles designated for exactly this purpose.

The rest of it all happened so fast. The first group of infected had come around and were making their way into what you had once believed to be a safe space. Chaos ensued as some people tried to get out as quickly as possible and others hung back to try and fight.

“Go,” Joel shielded you as he walked you over to the one of the vehicles. You were trying to get him inside with you, holding onto his hand tightly and pulled him.

“Joel-”

“Go,” he insisted firmly and for a moment, time stood still as he kissed you, “go. Get out to safety, okay?”

“What about you?” you hadn’t realized you’d started crying; you hated that he had to be such a good man, “please, come with me now. Please-”

“I’ll find you,” it was a promise both of you knew he might not be able to keep, “I swear it. I’ll find you.”

“Joel-”

“I love you,” he took a step back as the vehicle started up and a few stragglers tried to get on, “I’ll find you soon.”

“I love you,” you cried, “please. Please.”

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. Everything felt so surreal and left you in a daze; the next thing you knew, he was gone.

You were leaving to get to the next safe space and he was just gone.

You’d never felt more numb.

But you never let go of the hope that one day he’d find you.

Joel Miller was a good man.

A good man that kept his promises.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Luca!" you sighed softly as you tried to find your son. You loved him dearly, but sometimes he just stressed out. He was just a kid though, and you couldn't be mad at him for that.

He also happened to be extremely friendly and sociable, which made him popular among everyone. You walked down the street to one of his little friend's houses, sure they were just playing.

It was almost too quiet when you got there, and you were sure that they'd gone off somewhere else. You knocked on the door nonetheless and Lisa opened it, smiling when she saw it was you, "hey darlin', I'm afraid they're not here if you're looking for the little bundle of chaos they are."

"I had a feeling," crossing your arms over your chest you rolled your eyes playfully, "it's way too quiet and calm here."

"It's a nice change of pace if I do say so," she winked at you and the two of you exchanged smiles that only a single mother would understand, "do you want to come in for a bit?"

"Rain check?" You asked sheepishly, "I was going to go friend the kiddos….realistically I know they're fine but I'd rather see it with my own eyes."

"Definitely," she gave your shoulder a squeeze, "see you around."

It was a beautiful spring day, warm and breezy with small creatures scurrying about; it always felt like life was back to normal. Or what you had once known as normal…but this had been your reality for almost seven years now. Maybe this was your normal now.

Nonetheless you decided to remain positive and decided instead to head down to the pond where the kids liked to play. Spring had brought around a bunch of ducklings and you were sure that the kids would be mesmerized by them. But, to be quite honest, so were you. The magic of such simple things was not lost on you. Now, more than ever, these sorts of things were so important.

“Luca?” you saw a bunch of small figures around and screaming, and you finally relaxed. As you came into view, the boy grinned at you a big smile on his face, his curls roguish from the wind, “hey babe. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m okay,” he confirmed, his brown eyes sparkling as you ruffled his hair affectionately, “are you okay, mama?”

“Of course,” you crouched down so you were eye level with him, “all better now that I know you’re here. Remember when we talked about letting me know when you go out to play?”

“Yes,” he looked worried for a moment before you shook your head softly, “I’m sorry. I got excited about playing and forgot.”

“It’s okay,” you touched his cheek softly, “I’m not mad. Next time can you please remember to tell me?”

“Okay,” he wrapped his small arms around you, hugging you as best as he could. He was a sweetheart and of all the kids you could have ended up with, you were glad he choose you, “can I go back and play now?”

“Definitely,” tender kisses were pressed to his cheeks as you tickled his sides, “go and be good! I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, mama,” and off he was, running back to his friend as you watched him go.

You slowly stood up before stretching and relishing in the popping of your joints. Having been reassured that he was going to be okay, you decided it was time to go back and start tending to the communal gardens. You never really had a green thumb before, but the last few years had really helped you grow.

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts and almost didn’t notice the man in the middle of the sidewalk, clearly confused. You’d heard some newcomers might be headed your way, but you hadn’t come across any of them yet. Having new people around was something you’d come to love; it wasn’t common most of the time.

“Hello there,” you were practically beaming as you bounced over to him. The man turned around at the sound of your voice, “you must be new…”

You stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you met his face, suddenly unsure if this was real life or just a wicked dream. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and figure out if what you were looking at was real. There was no way…absolutely none.

But he looked just like him, watching you with equally curious eyes. Your heart was beating so fast you were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage. Your mouth ran dry but you managed to get one singular, “Joel?”

After a moment of stunned silence he nodded before whispering your name in return. The tears were already welling up and threatening to run down your cheeks. Before you knew it, the man that once was your partner, lover - everything - took you in his arms and crushed you to his chest. You didn’t mind.

He was all too familiar, bringing back a rush of memories and emotions as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. The two of you held onto each other tightly for some time; you were afraid that if you let him go he would disappear again and you would wake up to find it was all a horrible dream.

When he pulled back, he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away with his thumb. He drank you in, trying to understand every single thing that had happened since the day you lost each other, “hi.”

“Hi,” you grinned back with a teary smile, “you’re here. Really here.”

“I’m here,” he promised, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

“Joel, I-”

“Mama!” the small voice of your son reached your ears as he ran over to the two of you, “I found a little duckie and I don’t see the mom duck and it’s so small and can I keep him?”

“Whoa, bud, slow down there for a moment,” he tucked himself behind your legs, suddenly feeling shy when he realized Joel was there. You could see Joel’s eyes flick to the young boy as his brow furrowed in confusion. You put a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to introduce himself, “can you say hi?”

“Hi,” he sounded so young as he looked at Joel; their eyes mirroring each other, “I’m Luca.”

“Hi Luca,” he held out his hand to shake the young boy’s much smaller one, his mind racing and reeling with questions. But he was a smart man and could put two and two together, “I’m Joel.”

“My daddy’s name was Joel,” Luca mused as Joel turned his attention back to you, “that’s what mama said anyway. Can I go back to the ducks now?”

“Yeah babe, go ahead. Don’t touch them though and let the mama duck do her thing. I'm sure she'll be back,” he nodded in response before trekking away again, throwing a little wave at the two of you. You nervously turned your attention back to Joel.

“A son?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion as you nodded softly, “we have a son?”

“Yes,” it felt like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders as you finally got to tell him what you had wanted all those years ago, “we have a son. He looks just like you.”

“I never…I had no clue,” he ran a hand over his face in surprise, “I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

“I found out that day,” also known as the day. When everything fell apart for a second time and you were separated from each other, “I was trying to tell you, right before Nick had come and knocked at our door. I realized that morning that I was…pregnant. And I never got the chance to tell you…when everything just started happening, it didn’t cross my mind again. And then…I lost you. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“You had to go through all of that alone,” he looked at you in awe as you shrugged lightly, “you had to go through being pregnant alone and then raised our son alone.”

“I had a lot of help along the way,” you admitted softly, “turns out that times like these are good at bringing out the worst and the best of people. I told him about you; from when he was little. I always wanted him to know what a wonderful man his father was. And now…he got to meet you.”

“All this time,” he could cry thinking about it all. You, alone and scared, being pregnant in a world that was collapsing, and then having to raise a son alone. He’d lost Sarah, a loss that hurt still, and he knew always would, and he’d almost lost his son. But the universe, fate, or whatever was out there had given him a second chance. Not only to find you, but to be you and the son you shared, “baby.��

“It’s okay,” this time the tears running down your cheeks were happy, “it’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. And now you’ll get the opportunity to know Luca, and it’s…all I ever wanted.”

“We have a son,” he repeated as though he was in a daze, a happy blissful daze.

“You don’t have to…if you don’t want to spend time with him or anything I-I understand,” it would kill you, but you’d understand, “I don’t want you to feel obligated just because. O-or if there’s someone else.”

“No,” he shook his head fervently, “there’s never been anyway else. How could there ever be? It was always you for me; you’re still it.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a small laugh, relieved to hear his answer, “it’s always been you for me too.”

“I was just planning on passing through,” he touched your face, thumb gently brushing over your cheek, “but if it’s okay with you, I could stay a while.”

“How about forever?” you asked softly, “i-if you want to. I-I mean we can figure it out, but-”

“Forever sounds perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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mangosrar · 11 months ago

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congratulations.

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

tooth rotting fluff ans then smut 😈😈😈

the warm sun was peeking through the window as the curtains danced with the breeze. rolling over and reaching your arm out, you were met with nothing but cold bedsheets, but the smell of pancakes wafting through the house, along with the sound of 'congratulations' by mac miller, revealed the answer to your boyfriends absence.

he hadnt noticed you yet. he was hunched over the counter, his shoulders flexing indicating his concentration. you padded over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle, and placing a nimble kiss to his bare back. "smells good"

"she lives" he exclaimed ,making you giggle, before turning to face you with a toothy grin, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours.

"happy birthday" he said softly, pulling away. you pressed your head to his chest and sighed contently, listening to his steady heartbeat, creating a memory that you would think about in years to come, when you were spending birthdays with your children, and grandchildren. he let you bask in the glow of the morning, resting his chin on your head and humming to the song, while his hand travelled up your back, then down again.

"what do you wanna do today?" he asked, putting both hands on the side of your face, pulling you up so you were eye level with him, waiting for the answer to the question he had asked you every single day for the past 3 months. he was adamant that you should have a huge party and make a big deal out of it but you didnt want that. you told him you would decide on the day.

"i just wanna spend it with you" you whispered. his smile grew wider as his eyes studied your face, searching for any sign of uncertainty, and when he found nothing, he pressed his lips to yours again, whispering a soft 'okay' as he did so.

matt had took your words as gospel, he hadnt left your side once. the two of you ate breakfast, opened your presents, got ready and headed out. he took you shopping, he took you ice skating, he had even let you drive his car, upon your request. he had completely spoilt you. it had been the best birthday ever.

it was now later on in the evening and you were slumped on the couch, leaning on matt, with chris and nick on the other end, your favourite movie was playing but you couldnt take your eyes off of matt. for about an hour now he had been fidgeting, bouncing his leg, chewing his nails or messing with your hair. there was something etched onto his face that you couldnt decipher, a deep crease in his brows.

"you okay?" you said softly as to not gain the attention of his two brothers. he looked down at you as he turned and took a deep breath in. he said nothing as he suddenly stood up, grabbing your arm and pulling you down the hallway to his room, without uttering a word to nick or chris, despite their calls of confusion.

once he was inside, he closed the door and made a bee line for his bedside table, opening the drawer and taking something out. you watched him with furrowed brows, trying to figure out if what he was doing was a good or bad thing.

neither of you said anything as he made his way back over the end of his bed and sat down, ushering you over. you found home, standing in between his legs, before running your hands through his hair, making him look up at you, an emotion in his eyes you just couldnt place.

"whats going on?" you asked. matts insides rolled at the softness of your voice, he knew he wanted to do this, there was nothing he wanted more.

"i know i already gave you all of your gifts, but theres one more," he paused, still looking up at you. "i bought it for your birthday last year but it wasnt the right time, however i know that now is the right time, and i dont want to spend a second longer holding on to this." he said. your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as you watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a small box. he kept his eyes trained down, too worried to look at your reaction.

it was a silver ring with a small gem stone sitting in the middle, and the inside of the band had a small love heart with the letter 'M' carved into it. you couldnt help but gasp and bring your hands up to your face. matt watched you with intent eyes, waiting for any sense of distaste.

"matt its beautiful" you whispered. he stood up, grabbing your hand and sliding the ring onto your finger and laying a nimble kiss to the back of your hand.

"now i know im not asking you to a marry me but, this ring is a symbol of promise, and i promise that i will marry you one day, and we will have kids, and big house with a white fence, and a dog and we will spend our nights sitting on the porch watching sunset, because i love you and i wanna spend every singe birthday with you for the rest of our lives." he had cushioned every single word with the strong beat of your heart, each one bouncing off and being wedged into the large space he took up. you couldnt help but let tears pool in your waterline. his eyes bored into yours as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, waiting for you to speak.

"i love you" you whispered before pressing your lips to his. matt smiled into the kiss as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. one of his hands travelled up and rested at the base of your neck as the kiss grew more intense, he pushed his tongue into your mouth and ran it along your lips before tugging your lip between his teeth and pulling away, earning a whine from you.

you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and doing the same with yours, before turning you around and pushing you on the bed. he stood for a second, admiring you, basking in the glow emitting from your body, before he crawled up the bed to hover over you.

"happy birthday baby" he whispered breathlessly before his lips were on yours again, tongues dancing together, your hands pulling his hair, pulling soft groans from his mouth.

he continued his kissed down your neck and chest while whispering sweet nothings.

"so beautiful"

"i love you so much"

"so good for me"

he was now at your thighs and while you were enjoying this, you needed him.

"matt please" you whined.

"what is it baby, what do you want mh?" he came back up to your face, placing a single kiss on your mouth, waiting for your answer.

"i want you inside of me" he did nothing but smirk at your words before sitting back on his heels between your legs and pulling off your pants, painfully slow.

matt watched through hooded eyes as you squirmed under his intense stare. he was enjoying this too much, watching you become so needy for him.

the second he had pulled off your panties, he was pulling off his boxers and lining himself up. he looked up at you through his lashed, wordlessly checking you were okay. you nodded and he pushed himself into you, bottoming out, causing you both to moan.

he stilled inside you for a second, doubling over, desperately fighting the urge to plough into you. he pulled back for a second, looking at your face and when he saw nothing but pleasure, he pulled his hips back before snapping them into yours again and again and again.

at this point you were a mess, moaning and whining underneath him as he continuously pushed his cock in and out of you, each one being harder than he last.

"fuck baby, doing so well for me" matt said breathlessly as he sat back up, pulling your legs up onto his shoulders and continuing his hard fast thrusts. you let out a moan of his name and he let his head drop back, letting out a deep groan as he did so.

"oh matt, feels so- nhg good fuck" you chocked out. your cracked voice and broken sentence only made matt drive his cock deeper into you, making your back arch off the bed and your eyes roll back.

"fuck y/n i can feel you squeezing me" matt said through a strangled whine. his words were only turning you on more and you could feel yourself reaching an endpoint. you could only moan at his words and paw at his arms, desperately trying to ground yourself.

"matt im so c-close please dont stop" you stuttered. your high was approaching fast and the sight of matt looking down at his cock ploughing into you relentlessly was not helping.

"god baby, look so beautiful taking me" and that was all you needed to hear before reaching your high, letting your legs drop back onto the bed and pulling matt down on top of you, clawing at his back as you basically screamed as you rode out your high. matt left soft kisses on your neck, soothing you, as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven.

you felt his cock twitch inside of you before he shoved his head in the crook of your neck, groaning and letting out desperate chants of your name, painting your insides white and riding out his own orgasm, slowing down his thrusts before he eventually stopped and collapsed on top of you.

he pulled his head up, peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle before he spoke.

"happy birthday sweetheart"

matthew.sturniolo: happiest of birthdays to the only girl ever. you are my sun and moon, my dreams and nightmares. you’re 20 now but i owe you lifetimes of happiness for the amount you have given me these past 3 years. you are an angel. i thank my lucky stars every day that i met you in this life because heaven would not be the same without you. thankyou for being my sense of consistency when i need you to be. happy birthday sweetheart i love you❤️‍🩹

tagged: y/n.

_______________________________________________

IM BACKKKK😈😈😈😈😈

passed my driving test so prepare to be sick of my ass 🙏🤣🫵

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @urmyslxt @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @kenleighsbl0g @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000

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writtensturn · 5 months ago

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enamored | m.s

PAIRING : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

GENRE : fluff! bsf matt, love interest.

SUMMARY : matt and his bestfriend learn to know more about their feelings.. with eachother.

!WARNINGS! : use of y/n & cursing.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

y/n and matt have been bestfriends for years, they met in highschool and haven’t gotten close until senior year. after that they’ve spent of their time together, she got along great with his two other brothers nick and chris who she treated like her own. when their youtube career took off and they moved out to california, the two were a little crushed since they always hung out. it started off as y/n saving enough to fly out and spend weeks with them to matt buying her business class tickets and having her stay even longer, sometimes she gets spoiled with first class. a couple weeks into her staying at the sturniolos her and matt went out for icecream.

“no don’t do that” she smacked his hand from touching the radio volume

“im just saying there’s better artists than tyler the creator” matt’s voice echoed back to her, and with that she gasped.

“so you mean like mac miller” she scouted out his favorite artist getting under his skin as they drive to the store

“exactly” his attitude shot back at her with a small smirk

“uh no by better you mean frank ocean, daniel ceaser, and mm maybe childish gambino. oh! don’t forget about the love of my life dominic fike” y/n said back to him quickly her smile growing bigger as she spoke

“and that’s where i keep my mouth shut” matt added back, before pulling into a spot infront of ralph’s. her and matt got out of the car as she walked around the front, her steps aligned with his walking in sync. her eyes looked up to the moon and how it shined down on the two, matt and her walked in the doors him heading to the frozen isles knowing exactly where it is while she was still getting used to the town. the two walked down the isles and he stoped infront of the ice cream.

“uhhh” matt managed to get through his lips as he looked cluelessly at the many flavors and combinations, he spotted one of her favorites and moved to open the door to grabbed it.

“take this” he said not looking aiming for her arms, having her moving forward so she could take it from him. she looked at the flavor of ben and jerry’s and smiled while shaking her head, knowing it was her favorite. matt continued to look his eyes wondering to figure out what he wanted.

“cmon slow poke i don’t have all night” she said fixing her stance and letting a breath out

“yeah what better do you have to do” matt said grabbing his half baked and pushed her shoulder to start walking out of the isle with his hands on her shoulders, as he walked slowly behind her.

“uhh i don’t know anything but that” she smiled as she walked to the self checkout, she scanned her ice cream holding in her head before grabbing matt’s from his hands and scanning it. she pressed everything while matt took his wallet out from his back pocket and got out his card, she quickly swatted his hand.

“you flew me out let me pay for once” she groaned as matt’s eyes looked into hers

“no” he said back sternly, and that was the end of discussion. he tapped his card, grabbing the receipt leaving her annoyed. they walked out moving back to his car, once she opened the door and sat in matt started it and pulled out. she watched his hands as he pulled into a spot further back where there weren’t a lot of cars or lights, she put on frank ocean humming around as she took the spoons they took from the house out of the cup holder and opened the top of her ice cream, and m took a couple bites.

“close my eyes and fall into you, you. my god shes giving me pleasure” she sung softly, she turned to feel matt’s gaze on her. she looked at the way his hair fell perfectly above his eyes, his blues staring into her own. she feels a feeling in her stomach she’s never felt with matt before, she lets in a shaken breath.

“what” she let out softly loud enough for matt to hear

“you just” he said letting out a content sigh as he tilted his head and his hand came up from his lap and was placed on her chin, wiping off a drip of ice cream on her lip. as matt’s thumb ran across her lip, her expression immediately dropped her heart beginning to beat a little faster and that feeling in her stomach growing. maybe it was the music, or the late hour but suddenly her world fell around him.

“matt” she whispered again as he hand fell from her face returning to his side

“hm” he replied softly his eyes pouring into hers again

“um” she shook her head with a smile trying to shake off the feeling as she leans over the arm rest, wiping some of the chocolate from his face. matt let out a small laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. she watched his expression turn serious his head tilting as they were inches apart, she watches him flutter his eyes at her before licking his bottom lip.

“can i kiss you.” matt’s voice moved to her ears, a pit in her stomach started to form. her lips parted, his question shocking her. all the years they’ve been friends they’ve never once been intimate, had a moment or took anything seriously. sure they were hugs and soft cuddles but this, never.

“yes.” she whispered back at him, her eyes flickering from his to his soft pink lips that moved against hers. his hand came up to rest on her waist, hers moving to his face. it was sweet and warm, as she pulled away she looked at him with a smile, quickly turning into a laugh.

“matt” she shook her head leaning back into her seat

“what” he smiled back “i’ve wanted to do that for the longest time” he shook his head looking down into his lap

“you should’ve just-“ she was caught up by his subtle quick moves leaning over her and kissing her quickly again, and again.

“matt!” she was able to mutter threw his quick kisses, laughing at his lips on hers moving to her cheek and coming back to lay against hers again this time for longer and more gentle.

“god i love you” he said leaning his forehead against hers, the relief of letting it out. they’ve said i love yous before but this time was way different, it wasn’t quick and over the phone or saying goodbye it was in the moment.

“so what do you want this to be” she let out a small laugh under her breath as her eyes looked up into his as he left more space between them.

“whatever you want this to be” shooting his sweet smile back at her making her smile even more.

(do you guys want this as a series)

#sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #writers on tumblr #matt stuniolo fanfic #fanfics #Spotify #writtensturn

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sturniholo · 11 months ago

Text

white ferrari - chris sturniolo

a/n: please the amount of courage it is taking for me to post this is embarrassing 😓 this is lowkey shit, so please bare with me. also i was listening to frank ocean while writing, hence the title.

chris x fem reader !

Tears dried on your cheek as you looked out the window of the minivan. This would be the last time you would be riding in it. The car where you would sing along to Mac Miller with Matt and Chris, go on late-night McDonald's runs, or needed a ride to hang out with Chris.

Matt was currently taking you home. Today was probably one of the worst days of your life. After some thinking, you and Chris decided it would be best for the two of you to go your separate ways. With his YouTube career kicking off, you wanted him to have as many opportunities as possible. With that being said, he told you they had found a house in LA.

Tears couldn't help but spill from your eyes as you replayed those talks of breaking up in your head. It absolutely shattered your heart, but you wanted what was best for Chris and his brothers. You knew it was going to be the most painful decision of your life, as he was your first love.

You rested your head on the window, looking out at the stars. Due to the silence in the car, you had the perfect opportunity to think. Your mind began to drift off, thinking about you and Chris' relationship.

the first time you met chris...

It was freshman year. You and Nick had become friends after having history class together. Today you were finally going over to his house to hang out. You knew about Matt and Chris, as you had seen them around school and Nick told you about them.

However, when you got to Nick’s house, you didn't expect to meet your future boyfriend. You remember it clear as day. When you walked in, Chris had been sitting on the couch, drinking a Pepsi. He had been on his phone, but he looked up when he heard you walk in.

"Nick’s friend right? I’m Chris," he greeted with a grin.

You returned the smile. "Yeah, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you."

From the moment you laid eyes on him you thought he was cute. Little did you know he felt the same way.

the day he asked you out....

It was about a year after you had met Chris. He had been planning this moment for a while. The two of you were hanging out, eating ice cream. The whole night you could tell something was off. He wasn't his normal self. Instead, he was acting nervous, like it was your first time hanging out.

"Chris, what's going on? You seem so...anxious," you asked, taking a bite of your ice cream.

He looked up at you, making short eye contact. "It’s just..." He thought for a moment. "We obviously have a thing for each other, and I really want it to be something, something official." A smile spread across your face. You had been waiting for this moment for a few weeks. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You swear your heart could burst. "Of course I will, Chris." After those words, you swore you could see the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank God, I probably would've run into traffic if you rejected me," he joked.

The rest of the night he wore a smile on his face. He was so happy he finally made you his girl.

the night of senior prom...

The thing you remembered the most about this night was the look in Chris' eyes when you came down the stairs. The sparkle in his eye showed how much he adored you.

You picked out a blue dress to match what he was wearing, and of course, your mom wanted to get pictures of the two of you. Chris suggested you do the iconic prom pose. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving his biggest smile. You couldn't help but smile and melt into his touch.

As you and Alahna danced with each other, you couldn't help but hear Chris' laugh. He was sitting down, watching as you danced with Alahna. The look in his eyes as he watched you made you want to melt into the floor.

That was also the same night Chris learned how to slow dance. You had somehow convinced him to dance with you. His hands gripped onto your waist, your arms wrapping around his neck. The two of you slowly swayed side to side, enjoying each other's warmth. Kisses were occasionally exchanged, which made the two of you laugh.

the first time chris had come home after being in la...

Chris had been in LA for a little over two weeks and you were missing him like crazy. You had Facetimed pretty much every day, but you needed to see him in person.

As you waited at the gate, you couldn't help but pace with excitement. The moment your eyes met the triplets, your heart began to race. You had missed them terribly.

Chris ran over to you, immediately engulfing you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his back, tightening the hug. He rocked you back and forth, pressing a kiss to your head. As you pulled away, your eyes couldn't help but meet his. They were glossy and full of love. He leaned in, connecting his lips with yours.

After a minute, you guys pulled away, both wearing a smile. You turned around to meet Matt and Nick, wrapping your arms around both of them. Smiles were evident on everyone's faces, happy to be reunited.

As those sweet memories crossed your mind you couldn't help but cry out. Matt’s heart broke at the sound of your sobs. He rested a hand on your knee, giving it an assuring squeeze.

As he pulled into your driveway one last time, you finally took your eyes away from the window. You met Matt’s gaze. You noticed his eyes began to gloss over, which made your heartbreak. You had grown to become very close with Matt over the years, so it was like double heartbreak.

Matt walked behind you as you made your way to your front door. You stuck your key in the door, twisting it. Before you pushed open the door, your arms found their way around Matt. His arms wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest.

The two of you stood like that for a few minutes. Tears continued to fall from your face, sniffles occasionally coming from your nose. You could hear Matt also sniffling from above you. As you pulled away, you wiped your tears.

"Well," you breathed out, "thank you so much for everything, Matt. I love you," you said shakily. He squeezed your shoulder one last time before he let you go inside.

Your heart completely shattered as you closed the door. The realization had just hit you full force. You were closing one of the most important chapters in your life, but then again, you would do anything for Chris to be happy.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 9 months ago

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you're a bad idea (i'll never say no to)

Summary: After an awful one night stand, you find some comfort (and more) in an unlikely source

Pairing: Nick Miller x fem!reader

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+, oral sex (fem receiving), sexual innuendo, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating

A/N: i remembered i had this draft lying around and it was not as bad as i thought, so here it is for y'all to enjoy!!

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession (not sure if you care about nick miller, but if you do, i hope y'all enjoy!! if you don't want to be tagged, let me know <3)

\_/

Entering the loft, you found Nick laying on the couch in complete darkness. You only noticed him because of the dim light that shone through the windows. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, his hand wrapped around a bottle of booze that, in the darkness, you couldn’t entirely make out.

“Hey, Nick.”

He groaned, raising his bottle in what you imagined was his way of greeting you home.

“Anyone else home?”

He answered with another —negative— groan, putting his lips around the bottle and taking a long sip. You sat down on the other end of the couch, reaching out for the bottle that, after a scowl, he handed to you.

“So, what are we drinking for?” you asked, after gulping down some of the liquor. Probably whiskey, given the burning taste it left in your mouth.

“I’m drinking,” he started as he sat up on the couch, “because life sucks.”

“Preach.”

You took another sip under Nick’s tipsy but inquisitive stare.

“Why are you drinking?”

“Can’t I just drink because I want to?”

Nick raised his eyebrows, scoffing slightly and raising his hands in surrender. “Trust me, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

You nodded, lowering your gaze on the glass bottle in your hands as you pondered pensively if it was wise to drink more of that. You had to show up at work the next day, you couldn’t miss another shift without a reasonable excuse.

“Didn’t you have that big thing tonight?”

Your fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle.

“Yeah, you had that date with the guy you met a while back at the bar.” He turned towards you, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa. “How did it go?”

You didn’t answer. You just took another swing of the liquor —definitely whiskey, your burning throat confirmed— before giving the bottle back to Nick.

“Wow…” he chuckled as he placed the whiskey on the floor, “that bad, uh?”

“I mean…” You threw your head back on the couch. “It wasn’t going that badly but then…” You groaned in frustration, covering your face with your hands.

Nick scooted a little closer, the leather of the couch creaking under him. “Well, well, color me intrigued.”

Your arms fell to your lap as you skeptically looked at him. “I don’t think you really want to hear anything regarding my misadventures in dating.”

“You underestimate me, I love hearing about other people’s misfortunes.” He took the bottle once again before handing it back to you with a smile. “Makes me feel better about my awful life.”

You snorted as you gladly accepted his offer.

“Well, then you’re really going to enjoy this.”

“His mom?!”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes through the embarrassment. Your hand moved on his own and brought the nearly empty bottle to your lips; some more booze to hopefully quiet down those memories freshly ingrained in your brain.

“And she did not only walk in on us having sex, but she also started giving both of us a lecture on protections, trust and cheating…”

“Don’t tell me he has a girlfriend,” he murmured, already in a fit of giggles.

“He has a girlfriend! Good job, Miller!”

You clapped as you watched Nick almost rolling with laughter. His head was thrown back, his body incredibly close to falling flat either on the couch or the ground, depending on which direction he swayed in. Every time you thought he was about to fall face-first into the floor, and every time he managed to balance himself at the last moment and not break his nose.

“That’s the LA experience right there, little Day.” He gave you a fist bump and stole the bottle from you. “You haven’t lived here unless you’ve had at least one weird hook-up.”

As he downed what remained of the whiskey, you realized how cute he looked when he smiled. In the two weeks since you had ‘moved in’ with your sister, crashing in her shared apartment while you looked for one of your own, Nick Miller hadn’t exactly been Mr. Sunshine. The moment you had set your foot through the door of the loft, he had made clear he didn’t love the idea of you staying there —or at least, that was before you said you were going to help with the rent— and since then, whenever you were around he acted more like a robot than a human.

Answering in monosyllables, sometimes even ignoring you when you were in the room, it was almost logical that you had come to the conclusion that Nick Miller hated you.

“He does not hate you,” Jess had assured you despite your skepticism. “He’s just not the biggest fan of change.”

Telling the truth, from what you had seen so far, Nick wasn’t the biggest fan of anything. He spent most of his day complaining about everything he could think about. The half-broken sink. The socio-economic injustice that plagued the US. Pants with tight crotches.

But most of all, something that he avoided like the plague itself: talking with other people. Sure enough, he and the other three roommates talked all the time: always fighting, bickering, gossiping, bothering each other in that irritating but loving way that you —as a sibling— could understand. However, when it came to opening up and communicating without filters or jokes, it seemed like he would’ve much preferred jumping off the roof of the loft than to actually say how he felt. He could do it, but he always seemed about to puke when he had to.

After the cold shoulder he gave you for two weeks, you were surprised that you were able to have a civil conversation with him at all. Obviously there were no feelings or any other deep emotional stuff, but it was still baffling how easy it was to just be with him like that.

Maybe it was just the booze.

“I bet you’ve had many weird hook-ups,” you teased him, poking his leg with your shoe.

“I’ve…” Nick trailed off for a moment, his eyes following the shape of your leg —from the ankle to the knee— before clearing his throat and looking away. “I’ve had my fair share.”

You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head as you watched Nick in the dim light. It might’ve been the booze, but he looked incredibly hot. Since you had arrived at the loft, your eyes had always been drawn to Nick, one way or the other. You often found yourself lingering on him as he walked by, replaying every interaction you two shared in your head for hours before letting it go.

His scruffy attractiveness wasn’t a subjective matter, it was a fact. But at that specific moment, there was just something more to him. Perhaps it was his hair, all messed up and going in all different directions, or his cheeks, slightly flushed because of the whiskey… or perhaps —you thought— because of you.

When he looked back at you he scoffed, shaking his head and standing up, his gaze glued to the ceiling.

“Don’t look at me like that, little Day.”

“Like what, Nick?”

He didn’t answer: he just stepped away from the couch, heading to the kitchen while chanting no to himself. You followed him with your eyes as he opened the fridge and took a beer. The condensation glistened on the glass as Nick opened the bottle and brought it to his lips. You swallowed as you watched him drink, transfixed by the movement of his Adam’s apple with every gulp he took.

He came back to the couch, sitting on the other end of it, putting as much distance between you two as he could. Despite that, he kept glancing at you before looking away immediately after.

“You’re Jess’ younger sister.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“She will kill me if I…” His eyes darted to your face, falling to your mouth and then lowering even more. “If we…”

“If we what?”

He shook his head and took another long sip of beer, avoiding your piercing stare.

Frowning in annoyance, you stood up and plopped on the couch next to him. You took the beer from his hand and put it on the shelves behind the couch. When you did, your fingers brushed: despite the cold bottle in his hands, his skin was warm. You blamed the booze for the thoughts that started filling your head, wondering how his fingers would’ve felt on you.

“If we what, Miller?”

Nick took a deep breath before turning towards you with a wry smile. “It’s the rules of the loft, little Day.” He moved one arm on the back of the couch, just behind your shoulders. “As roommates, we vowed not to nail each other or each other’s siblings.”

You raised your eyebrow with a smirk. “So you want to nail me?”

“I never said that,” Nick pointed out immediately, shaking his head with a smile, “and I’m ready to deny these accusations in court.”

You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“So…” you started again, shifting on your seat until your shoulder was pressed against his side, “you don’t want to nail me?”

The smile on his face faded, leaving behind just a hint of softness in his features. “I never said that either.”

He stood still, looking into your eyes while someone shouted in the streets below and a far away car alarm kept ringing. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers moved on the back of your neck, brushing on your skin and leaving behind a trail of fire. You held your breath for a moment, getting used to the sensation and keeping your tipsy mind from roaming too far away.

“I see,” you whispered as your fingers moved along his jaw, the rough stubble grazing against your fingertips. “It must be a very hard decision for you.”

He nodded, his mouth opening ever so slightly when you pressed your thumb on his bottom lip, still damp from the beer. You leaned in, stopping just a couple of inches from his face. So close that you could feel his breath on your face.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

You pulled away with a smirk, quite amused by Nick’s annoyed face. “So you can make up your mind without any distractions.”

You pushed yourself up, headed to Jess’ bedroom. You were already dreading sleeping once again on the air mattress that she had kindly lent you when a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back on the couch.

As you fell across Nick’s lap, one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other held your waist. His mouth was on yours before you could say or do anything, and when his lips started moving your brain melted just as much as your body did in his hold. It was unexpected, a mess of crashing limbs and lips that tasted of alcohol and poor decisions, and a warmth almost too intense for your fogged mind.

When you pulled away, breathless after just a few seconds, you found him staring at you, his lips parted as he inhaled shakily and a longing glimmer in his eyes.

“I think I might’ve made up my mind.”

You snorted, gently holding his neck as you ran your thumbs along it. “Took you long enough.”

Your back soon met the cushions of the couch as he cupped the back of your neck —tugging ever so slightly at your hair— and dove back onto your mouth, deepening the kiss when you parted your lips again. Gripping his scratchy flannel, you pulled Nick closer as you kissed him back, wrapping your legs around him. When you felt his crotch pressing against your core, a groan of desire left your lips, silenced by Nick’s mouth while his hands wondered along your thighs and towards the hem of your shorts.

“Jess can never know about this,” he stressed as he pulled away, just enough for your eyes to meet. “Ever,” he added, your lips brushing when he spoke.

“I’ve lied successfully to my sister thousands of times.” You nudged your nose against his with a smirk. “What about you, sweaty-back? Will you be able to hide it?”

Nick rolled his eyes, half a smile gracing his face before you pulled him back in for another kiss. Despite the stubble, his lips were soft and gentle, even when you were eating each other’s mouths. It might’ve been the booze that still lingered on them, but the more you drowned in their taste, the more intoxicating it got and the harder it was to pull away from them, even to just breathe.

“Maybe-” you gasped, moaning softly while Nick left a trail of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, “maybe we should go to your room. Before anyone-”

He shoved those few words back in your throat with another kiss, pushing your shirt up as his hands glided along your skin. His warm palms pressed against your bare waist created a loud cacophony of sensations which made your guts twist all around.

“Yeah,” he nodded as he pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his lips ever so slightly glimmering with spit in the dim light. “Let’s do that.”

It took you all of your self-control not to drag him back on top of you.

He clumsily stood up, his legs all tangled in yours, and then helped you to your feet. Before you could take another step, Nick placed his hands on your waist and pulled you into him. His mouth was back on your neck, almost tickling as he kept kissing and sucking your skin.

“Nick, I swear to God,” you muttered between a giggle and a moan as he dragged you both to his room, “if you give me a hickey I-”

His mouth moved from your jaw and sloppily closed around yours. His tongue moved on your lips, that opened to it without any resistance. You threw your arms over his shoulders, pulling him in as he blindly opened the door and then closed it.

After hearing the lock click, you felt the plywood pressing against your back while his mouth wandered even deeper into yours. Your hands tightened on his hair, gaining a moan from Nick that died in your throat.

When he finally pulled away, the only sound in Nick’s bedroom was your heavy breathing as your lungs slowly filled.

“As I was saying,” you sighed with trembling voice, “I will not hesitate one second to throw you under the bus.”

“God.” His whisper brushed onto your numb-kissed mouth, his fingers cupping your jaw and running on your bottom lip. “Do you ever shut up?”

You threw your head against the door, eyebrows cocked and a smirk gracing your glistening lips.

“Do you want me to shut up?” With your eyes glued to Nick’s, you hooked your finger to his jeans and pulled him in. “Or do you want to hear me scream, Miller?”

“Fuck!”

The moan left your mouth louder than you expected as Nick curled his fingers inside of your cunt, reaching the deepest part of you before pulling them out and then thrusting them in at an agonizing pace.

“Do you like this?”

His whispered question hit your inner thigh, followed by the grazing of his beard as he let his lips run over your skin. His warm breath brushed on your core, tingling on the wet and sensitive skin between your legs.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding quickly as you watched him pushing his fingers in again, both of them disappearing inside of you up to his knuckles. “Can you go faster?”

Nick chuckled against your leg, curling his fingers once more —almost touching that soft spot inside of you— before slowly pulling them out. You groaned, throwing your head back on the pillows, while he moved the sticky fingers up and down your thigh.

“You don’t have a grain of patience in you.”

“Well, at least I’m not edging someone who’s had a terrible-”

You took a sharp breath in when his tongue lapped your folds, his hands grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. Before you could even think about anything else, he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking onto it, stealing another loud whimper from you.

“God, you’re so loud.”

His words rumbled against your slick, twisting the knot in your abdomen that was aching to be released. You bit down on your lip as you felt a flush of warmth growing on your face, suddenly too aware of yourself, too bare in front of him. Then a soft tapping on your thigh drew your gaze back between your legs. Nick was there, looking back at you with a smirk pulling upwards his lips damp with your slick.

“I love it.”

Your throbbing core sent one last aching pulse before Nick, his eyes still stuck in yours, dove right back into it. When his tongue slithered inside you, lapping your folds and walls, you closed your eyes as your mouth started letting out the most lewd sounds you had ever heard.

He kept fucking you with his tongue, moving it back and forth as you bucked your hips towards him for more friction, chasing that release you’d been looking for all night. Then Nick turned his head ever so slightly —an accident, probably just trying to find a position that hurt less for his neck— and, with every thrust inside of you, his nose started nudging your clit. Over, and over, and over.

Your hand jolted to his hair, keeping his face in place as you bucked your hips again and again, as much as you could despite the rush of pleasure that was starting to overcome you, the same rush that had transformed you in a whimpering mess, unable to form one single word.

“Fuck- I-”

Whatever you wanted to say, it died in your mouth as his tongue curled inside of you and his nose nudged once more against your clit. That was the last push you needed; soon after you were writhing in the bed, your hands tightening around Nick’s hair as the knot in your abdomen finally loosened and a sudden warmth rushed to your face, and every other inch of your body.

As your muscles and grip eventually relaxed, you felt one final lick running along your sensitive and over-stimulated folds before Nick sneaked out of the nestled spot between your legs.

“So.”

He crawled to the spot next to you, his fingertips roaming along your sternum as your chest kept slowly raising and falling with each breath you took. With the rush of adrenaline and desire still running through your veins, even his ghost touch was enough to make your insides tremble.

“So what?” you breathed, turning your head to meet that annoying, attractive grin — still glistening with your cum.

“Was it or was it not the best oral of your life?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I see, you’re speechless.” He nodded to himself. “Understandable, I’ve trained a lot for this.”

“Ah, yes…” you chuckled lightly, taking his hand in yours and playing with his fingers. “Nothing more romantic than to hear about your previous one night stands.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Was this supposed to be romantic?”

“This? God, no! But next time…”

Nick scoffed. “You’ve already decided there’s going to be a next time?”

“Why not?”

“Little Day…”

Before he could say more — before he could try and convince you how that was a really bad idea — you pushed yourself up and sat on his abdomen, legs spread on either side of his body.

“I mean, at least let me ride you before you decide.”

His mouth hung open for a few seconds, a couple of terrifying seconds. Then his hands slowly crept along your thighs, taking hold of your flesh with a mischievous grin.

“I would never say no to that.”

#nick miller x reader #nick miller #new girl #jessica day #annie writes

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romana-after-dark · 9 months ago

Text

Rooms on Fire: I Will Run To You

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna learns more about her role and the dynamics of the household.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

Extra warnings for chapter: Mentions of medical malpractice, death in childbirth, mentions of male sexual assault via power dynamics, lots of complex feelings.

A/n: next chapter things ramp up.

3.1k words

A/N I gotta apologize y'all. this was meant to include so much more but I guess this chapter is getting split bc I just put so much Jonah lore. I hope y'all are formal about liking him. We finally get some backstory on the uprising, Tom, and Madonna's dad, who BTW, had a name change. JACK IS NOW MARCUS more info after the story!

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

One so young, so changed Should not be left alone Two in love should confess And not be left alone And I will run to you Down whatever road you choose Yes, I will follow you down I will run to you ~I Will Run to You, Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty

“You paint a lot of fire”

Jonah’s voice startled you, making you turn around but you relax when you see it’s just him. Reyansh was watching you outside your studio, and Jonah coming meant you must be summoned somewhere.

You were painting a picture of a burning house, something you saw in a dream last night. Ben and Will treated you normally, fucking you but also spending time together. You supposed Francisco’s behavior was normal too, considering that he continued to treat you like you only existed to fuck when he had to fullfill his duty. He never touched you alone. In the week since you got your period Santi was ignoring you. He’d call you to his room, fuck you with your face pressed into the mattress, and then toss you out. Last night he shoved you into the hall with your dress still bundled up in your arms.

“I paint what I dream.” You mumble, tired and not totally there. You were terrified to sleep, and after a second visit from the succubus it was getting worse, forcing yourself to stay up later and later. Lack of sleep was making it difficult to be alert, and little noises make you jump.

Jonah approached where you stood, keeping a respectful distance. He’d been distant as well since the night you saw him, and you still were unsure what you did wrong and why Iris was so upset with you.

“You dream of houses burning?” His voice was gentle but curious.

You take a deep breath, too tired to fight off any questioning. It’s best not to lie, anyway. “Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of fire. I dreamed I was dancing in front of it. I dreamed I caused it, and it was out of my control and now I must dance in the smoke and watch as the flames consumed things that I loved.” A pause, tears beginning to burn behind your eyes. “Sometimes, he stood inside them.”

“He?”

“My father.”

Jonah drew in a sharp breath and you worried he thought you were sympathetic to his traitorous cause. You weren’t, you had remembered how betrayed you’d felt that he’d thrown everything away to follow Deacon Davis, the judas who had killed the Divine Mother. As per tradition, when someone is sentenced to death, they burn at the stake and the unmarried women are expected to dance. The closer you are to the individual, the closer you are to the fire. You had been Marcus’s only family, him and your mom having adopted you as an infant. He died in front of you as you danced, embers blowing in the wind and singeing your white dress and sensitive skin. You were only 12, but you knew right from wrong, and your father was wrong. Sometimes you woke up still smelling his burning corpse. You had danced longer than anyone, keeping all the energy your child body could give you until you passed out.

You turn to Jonah with tears in your eyes, “I hold no mercy in my heart for him, please know that. I am loyal to the Divine Mother, I am loyal to my husbands above all else! I don’t know why I didn’t get pregnant but know I’d die for them happily should it came to that!” Crying now, you desperately plead to him but it’s not Jonah you are speaking to, truely. You know Pope is questioning you right now, and you cannot bear the thought that he doubts you.

“Honey” Jonah’s voice is strained, pain anguishing him. “How much do you know about the uprising…”

Your face is wet with tears, almost shaking in fear and frustration. You didn’t know how you’d messed this up so badly so soon. You just wanted to be held, you don’t remember the last time you’d been held without sexual desire… it was probably your father, may he be damned.

“Deacon Davis… he was an advisor to the Divine Mother, a friend to my husbands… he and Deliliah conspired against the Divine Mother and her family. Dad- um, Marcus, was a part of the traitors and he allowed Deacon Davis into Divine Mother’s quarters where he murdered her. Deliliah was Will’s betrothed before. She had seduced him for information and, and betrayed her husband! I would never do that, Jonah!” You realize now why he was questioning you, he thought a traitorous blood ran in your veins. Had Pope sent him? Had Francisco seen the evil in your heart, the evil that was inviting a demon?? Or had Jonah simply seen you for what you were. “I would rather die than betray them! You have to believe me!” You sob, closing your eyes as you are no longer able to look into his in shame. Strong arms wrap around you, practically holding your body up.

Jonah held you tightly and you cried into his shirt, so tired, so sleepy… You just wanted to feel peace again. Jonah allowed you your release, wetting his shirt with your tears until your breathing slowed. It occurred to you that you were hugging and being held by a man who was not your husband, so you take a step back looking down.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I haven't slept well-”

“It’s okay, honey.” His voice gently reassures you. “It’s okay to cry sometimes.”

You shake your head. “No… no I’m happy, I should be happy here, happy with my husbands, I am!” You’d shown weakness, surely Jonah would tell Pope that you were unhappy, that this was proof of your doubt, of unworthiness… Instead, Jonah pulled a sleeve down on his hand, stepping up to you once more. He ran the sleeve carefully under your eyes wiping the tears.

“There is nothing wrong with feeling what you feel. Your husbands are blessed with a kind, beautiful, artistic wife and they should be so lucky you sit at their table, nonetheless someone who cooks them dinners and paint them pictures. It is they who are unworthy, not you.”

You gasp at the blasphemy. “Jonah! No, no they are-”

“Gods, I know.” He wipes snot from your running nose. “But you… you’re like a daughter to me, and a father is allowed to place his children above Gods. Marcus may not… he may not have made the right choices, but he wanted nothing but good for you, just like I do. So please, for me, show him and yourself a little grace.”

With a little sniffle, you nod. “Thank you, Jonah.”

He gave you a smile, the bright one you like that made his eyes squint. “Good girl. Now, I got a surprise for you that I think will brighten your day.”

Jonah watched as you practically skipped down the hallway. When he told you Frankie wanted to take you out for a picnic, you perked up so fast it was like you hadn’t even been sobbing in his arms a moment ago. He wished he could be honest with you, he wished he could tell you the truth about Tom, Delilah, and most importantly, Marcus… but you were so brainwashed, there was no way for him to break through to you. He couldn’t simple tell you everything you’d know and believed whole heartedly, your religion, your life, the very thing that you chose above your father was a lie… not yet anyway. Maybe one day you’d doubt, you’d question, and the first people you’d go to would be Iris or him, maybe even Reyansh. Rey played the part well of a good soldier boy, he wasn’t as overt as Iris was but he knew you trusted him.

Despite being late already with the crying, you insisted on stoping in your room to grab a ribbon for your heart. Jonah’s heart hurt watching you put so much effort into this.

Will treated you well. Despite Jonah and Will’s… past, he couldn’t deny Will was a good husband. He took care of you.

Ben was a little shithead and was absolutely going behind your back with women still he just couldn’t figure out who. Ben had to be more sneaky now. This didn’t stop him from very loud late night fucks with Frankie that it seemed only you and Santi weren’t aware of. Still, he gave you affection and spent time outside of sex with you.

Santiago, he expected nothing less. Santiago’s moods were unpredictable, they had been ever since he was a child. Jonah had known Santiago and Beatriz since he was young, when all this was fairly new and traction was growing more and more. Jonah didn’t exactly believe, but his wife Jess did. Maybe he did for a while, it was hard to not with the things he saw… Beatriz had taken an interest in him and thus, despite being married, he spent a lot of time at the mansion with her. Jonah felt like a hooker, like his body was a commodity and up for grabs from anyone, and the worst part was how okay Jessica was with it. She fucking encouraged it. “Its an honor!” It wasn’t such an honor when she died giving birth to Iris and was denied medical treatment. Doctor said it wouldn’t have helped. Jonah knew Beatriz had something to do with it. He was luck Irish lived. She was his only reason for living sometimes.

It was Frank he was surprised about. Jonah had known all four men for most of the 3 decades of their life, and next to Santi, he knew Frank the longest. Frankie was raised with Santiago, practically as brother. Beatriz couldn’t adopt him, because something something divine blood, but that didn’t matter when Santi pissed her off enough. Jonah had witnessed the lashings and beatings he had taken, but what seemed to hurt the teen the most was when Beatriz would hang his godhood over his head, saying that it should be Frankie who was the savior, not him. After Jess’s death, Jonah was moved into the mansion and promoted to captain of the guard. It was just an excuse for Beatriz to demand sex even more.

Frankie was a good kid, but he always followed Santi like a lost puppy. Santi became obsessed with Frankie, forcing Frankie to become more and more withdrawn. Still, the nice young man was in there somewhere, and Jonah would bring it out. After the girl came to his room crying about Frankie not loving her, Jonah spoke to him and said he needed to do better by her hence the picnic.

Rey was out at the stables by the time Jonah got there, preparing the three horses. He was there a lot, knowing a lot about horses. If he has any choice, Jonah was certain he’d have been a vet. Another life, he supposed. Jonah and Rey would accompany them since they were going out a ways.

“Hello, Francisco.” She spoke softly, but enthusiastic. For all he and Santi hurt her, she loved him.

Frank gave a small smile. “Hi, Madonna. I thought maybe we could take a picnic. Get away from… everything else.” He brushed the mane of the horse.

Everyone else, Jonah thought.

“That sounds wonderful!” You walk over to him. “What’s his name?”

“This is Cielo. And those two,” He points to the other horses being settled. “Are Estrella and Flora.”

“Will we be riding Cielo?” You ask, but Frank turns away.

“I’ll be riding alone.”

You look dejected again, so Jonah steps up, frustrated with Frankie. “C’mon, you can ride with me.” Jonah puts a put in a stirrup, launching a leg over the saddle and onto Flora, his favorite horse.

“Actually” Frankie interjects. “I think she should ride with Rey.”

Of course. 10 years later and everyone was still suspicious of him. Frankie climbed onto Cielo, and Jonah rode up to him, whispering. “Compliment her ribbon. She picked green just for you.”

Reyansh pulled you up and onto the saddle, allowing you to ride the side saddle to protect your modesty in the dress. If you knew you’d be riding a horse, you’d have worn pants. It wasn’t the most comfortable, and you feared falling, but Reynash’s arm was strong around you. He was careful to keep his hands at appropriate places, which you were thankful for.

“How is your painting going?” He asks, as since Jonah leads the group and Francisco is in the middle still not keen on talking to you. Still, this was a step forward.

“It’s good, thank you. It’s nice and peaceful. I miss-” You stop yourself. What you missed was when Santi used to sit and watch you paint, drinking his wine and intent eyes on you. It had been a comfortable silence. “I do miss having company sometimes…” You missed your husband, you missed his laugh, his smile, his praise.

“Hey, I’d love to sit in on a session!” You could tell by the tone of his voice he was smiling. “I’d love to see a real artist at work!”

You laugh just a bit, “I’m not an artist, but if you’d like to watch, I'd like that.”

“Deal.”

You sat against a tree, legs bent modestly in your skirt and eating the sandwich Iris packed. She also packed apple juice, which you loved.

Francisco was silent. He’d thanked you for your help setting up the blanket and spoken as he served his food, but now he simply sat there. He looked sad, but even then he was handsome. Francosco sported a mustache, which had remained consistent the whole time you’d known him. Santiago was growing out his hair and beard, which was making your heart ache even more that you couldn’t kiss and touch him like you wanted to. Still, the silence wasn’t awkward. You had begun to wonder if he was just… quiet.

“Thank you for taking me out.” You say, speaking quietly. Jonah and Reynash were circling the parameter and you felt… watched. “I hadn’t realized how much time I spent inside until now.” Had you even left the house at all since your wedding? When was the last time you felt sunshine before today?

To your delight, while still looking down, he smiled. “I’m glad. Don’t like seeing you cooped up in that house all day.”

Your heart warmed at his concern for you. Feeling emboldened, you scooch close to him.

“It’s not cooped up with the men I love.”

This makes his eyes flick up to you. He narrows them suspiciously, but not angry “You… love… me?”

Your heart nearly shatters at the question, and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “But of course I do!!!” Careful, you place a hand on his face and feel the patchy bit of stubble. “You’re my beloved husband!”

“But… you had to marry me.”

You shake your head. “No, Francisco I chose you, I chose all of you and I love all of you. Is that why you’ve been distant? Is that why you’ve been so cold to me?”

“I-” He stutters over his words. “I don’t think this is good for you… I don’t think I’m good for you…”

If there were ever words you hadn’t expected from him, it wasn’t that. Francisco was a God, he was holy, good and righteous, how could he not be good for you. It didn’t matter. Clearly he was hurting, and as his wife, it was your duty to make him happy again. “Francisco Morales, you are my husband, you are the foster child of the Divine Mother, and the love of my life. I chose you before, I choose you now, and I will choose you in heaven, Divine Mother willing.” You bring your face closer to his. “I adore you, in all your God and human.” Feeling brave, you bring your mouth to him and tenderly take his pouty lower lip into your mouth, making him whimper. You liked that sound.

“You choose me?” He whispers, slowly kissing back. “Out in the open, no secrets?” His voice is slightly higher now, almost whining as he begins to chase your mouth.

“Always” The desperation growing, you give him everything you have. You don’t care that it’s an open field surrounded by trees, you don’t care that Reyansh and Jonah could ride up at any point, and you don’t care who might see you. You were divine and if you wanted to make love to the god of nature in his own fucking land you will. You had Francisco Morales, demi-God, whimpering for your touch. You had HIM, finally had him and you weren’t going to waste it for one second. He wanted thing sout in the open, you would show him you weren’t ashamed to be seen getting filled by his seed. Before you, your husbands were not celibant, that much was known. The sex parties were stuff of rumors and you couldn’t decipher the truth from fact. However, it was clear that public sex was not off the table. Shame is a punishment for the sins of Adam and Eve, and for men born without original sin, there was no shame in sex. “I choose you, always.”

Frankie entangles his fingers into your hair, feeling the green tie in your locks. His other hand slides up to cup your breast.

“I love this ribbon, it suits you.”

“Whatcha think’n, old man.” Rey asks as he rides up to Jonah. Both are perched up on top of a hill overlooking the field you lay on and he watches you kiss Frankie.

“I’m thinking,” Jonah turns to Rey, nodding his head back home. “That I got it here, and since the others are out, you should run back and try and sneak some time with Iris.”

Rey smiled at that, but hesitated. “You sure? Morales didn’t seem like he wanted her with either of you.”

Jonah rolled his eyes, but it was good natured nonetheless. He liked Reynash, loved him even. He was a good kid. Iris was put in the position she was in, not any older than the girl was now, because of his shortcomings, his weaknesses. She was punished to punish him. She deserved all the good she could get, and Reyansh Saha was about the only bit off good left in this world, beside Iris and now Marcus’s kid he was looking after. He reminded Jonah of Delilah in a lot of ways. Always smiling. Always kind.

“Look at ‘em.” Jonah referenced the pair kissing below. “She’s going home on his lap.”

Rey laughed brightly, turning his horse. “Oh yeah, you’re quite the matchmaker!” And he road off, long dark hair wild behind him. Handsome devil.

The words matchmaker hung in the air. Was Jonah giving her false hope he wondered? Or was he giving her the time she had left and filling it with better memories. He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was delaying the inevitable. It was always going to end one way for her. There was no way to live up to what Santiago wanted.

Because what Santiago wanted was Frankie with a womb.

SO MUCH JONAH HAPPENING!!!!!!!!

And poor madonna bc Jonah christ smelling your dad burn is a lot

So Marcus's face claim is David Habour, this came out of some chats with. @umnitsa in my romanaverse discord server. He is now your adopted father to keep things inclusive, but this is important as he has background info and ties in a lot. Think hopper in stranger things. Also May is already shipping him and Jonah so that ship name is Jonus lmfaooooo

If you are an active participant in one or more of my universes and have a discord (this means commenting or comment Reblogging, im looking for people who want to theorize and chit chat) dm me for a link! This is primarily focused on giving you extra content and sneak peaks but a lot of cool people are there too and you can share your work!

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock@neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows@hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile@rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado@mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog@miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @mjnomaryjane @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa@mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg

If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

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romanarose · 7 months ago

Text

Love and Friendship

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Joel drives you and you friends home.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and getting drunk, brief mention of cheating and bad relationship not with reader or Joel, but her friend. Joel being respectful as hell.

Immersivity: Reader is fem and drinks

Written for the @swiftiscruff fic exchange! This is dedicated to every single one of the people in my RomanaVerse discourd server, in no particular order.

Lila, Angie, Kit, Kate, Katie, May, Tara, Winnie, Alicia, Del, Whitney, Dolli, Fen, Haru, Ivy, Mickyla, Pimo, Soup, Olive. Thank you to all you guys who have been supporting my work for years or few weeks. I love you all. If i somehow missed your name its just bc im silly i swear.

******************

“JOOOOOOOOOOOEL!!!!”

Joel had to pull the phone away from his head as you screamed over the thumping sounds of the club. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. While you were out with friends, he had spent the evening and into the warm summer night Sarah’s room putting in a built-in bookshelf. She was on a trip with his parents for a few weeks and wanted to surprise her when she got back. Sarah always wanted a built-in bookshelf.

“Shit! I’m so sorry darl’n!” Joel ran down the stairs, shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his keys. “I lost track of time, I’ll be there in 10!”

Joel was supposed to pick you up at 1 AM from the bar. It was 1:53, and he wouldn’t get there until the bar closed.

“It’s okay baby!” you didn’t sound peeved at all. “But could we maybe drop off my friends too? Since we’re out anyway?”

He hopped into his car. “Yeah, of course baby, of course. Just stand outside once they close up, don’t talk to no one and don’t go near any cars. Make sure Angie doesn’t wander off with no one.”

You promised to stay on the phone with him until he got there. Joel didn’t like you leaving the bars on your own, too many freaks and perverts out there.

Joel pulled up to find you with your friends standing by the building, and he got out to open the door for you and them. “Sorry the back’s a little messy, ladies, work truck and all- hold on.” As you got in the front, Joel got a blanket from the black and laid it over the seats “There, less dirty.”

Angie, Kat and Lana all thanked Joel, and climbed in the back.

While Joel drove to Lana and Kat’s, you talked to you rfriends about the night.

“I can’t believe you danced with him Ang, what the fuck. He cheated on you three times.”

“I knoooooowwww!” She giggled. “But he’s sooooooo cute!!!”

Kat rolled her eyes with a smile. “Girl he looks like a grown up Big Mouth guy.”

“Nick Kroll?”

“What? No. Like the cartoon guy grown up.”

“Yeah, the weird Big Mouth kid was modeled after Nick Kroll so that’s just Nick Kroll? And he’s hot??”

Kat groaned, sinking down into their seat. “No, not Nick Kroll, the one voiced by John Mul- wait, you think Nick Kroll is hot?”

The conversation continued with Angie trying to justify how she wants to give Jake ‘Just one more chance!’

Finally, you turn to Joel. “What do you think, baby?”

Joel sighed, and shifted in his seat a bit. “Well, it ain’t none of my business, and I shouldn’t really git involved…”

You smile at your boyfriend. “But you have an opinion anyway.”

With a good natured huff, he lets it out. “It’s just that Angie, I think you’re a nice gal, and if I may, respectfully, easy on the eyes and I think you could do better than a 30 year old still trying to get his rap career off the ground and looks like a naked mole rat.”

The truck erupted in laughter, including Angie,at Joel’s half-roast, half compliment, and he smiled softly. He liked your friends, and he wanted them to like him too.

First up was Kat and Lana. Lana was quite drunk so Joel put the truck in park and helped Kat take her girlfriend inside. Once through the door and up the stairs and safe, Joel said goodnight and locked the door as he left.

Angie was asleep by the time he was back.

“She alright?” He asked about your best friend.

You mumbled, tired but with a smile. You had a great night, and loved your friends very, very much. “Yeah, she didn’t drink that much. She’s just not used to being up this late”

Joel hummed in recognition. “That’s right, she works the early shift. She’s probably up at like what, 4 AM?”

Turning to him with a bright smile, you giggle a bit. “How do you remember that?”

He shrugged, not thinking much of it. “Angie’s usually the first to leave, so it makes sense.”

You can’t help beam at him, streetlights periodically illuminating his pretty face, strong nose, full cheeks. Your friends mattered to you, them and Joel and Sarah were your everything. So many times, you hear of women whose friends hate their man and vice versa, how there was contention. Hell, Angie’s stupid ass ex never wanted her to hang out with your girlfriends, saying you and them were bad influences, accusing Kat and Lana of trying to sleep with her, etc etc etc. Joel was never like that.

From the beginning, Joel was respectful, kind, and welcoming to your friends and family. They were welcome over any time, and sometimes came over when you weren’t home to wait for you. You trusted them with Joel and Joel with them. He’d always offer to BBQ something on a warm day, or make you drinks. Slowly, as he’s gotten more comfortable, your precious, shy man has been joking around with them, which makes you smile. Joel was more nervous than he let on a lot of the time, hiding his anti-anxiety pills from you for months after you moved in. Still, he always welcomed your friends and in return they were respectful of his space and self.

Pulling up to Angie’s, she’s sleeping like a baby.

“You’re gonna have to carry her and put her to bed, ain’t noth’n wake’n her up once she’s out.” You are about asleep yourself, leaning against the window.

Joel bawled. “I can’t do that!”

“Sure you can, have you seen your arms? Jacked.”

“No- I mean-” He sighed. “I can’t take a drunk lady to her bedroom, it’s indecent!”

“Well she ain’t sleep’n in the truck, c’mon I’ll walk with you.

Joel sighed again but agreed. Walking around the truck, he unbuckled her, scooped her up and carried her to where you opened your door with your spare key. You guided your boyfriend to the bedroom and excused himself to get her water. There was no way you were gonna be able to put her in pj’s by yourself, so you just unzipped her dress to give her room to breathe and took off her strappy heels. You put fuzzy socks on your feet, the aloe infused kind she loved and covered her in her blankets.

A knock on the door. “She decent?”

“Yeah, come on in.”

Joel placed the glass of water and an Advil on the counter and a trash can by the bedside and said he'd be in the living room.

You sit by your friend’s side, just for a moment, stroking her hair, admiring how pretty your friend was. Beautiful woman, beautiful heart. Your best friend.

She murmured your name. You took the opportunity to sit her up, making sure she drank some water. “Yes babe?”

“I like Joel a lot.” Angie yawned. “You should keep him.”

You chuckled. “He can’t escape me if tried.”

Once she was asleep again, you walk out and take Joel’s hand, wrapping your arms to hang off his. Joel opens the door for you, and you slide into the middle of the seat, snug against him when he gets in the driver’s side.

“Seatbelt.” He reminded you, you mutter ‘blah blah blah’ but he reaches over you and straps you in.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, darl’n.”

You drive down the road, Joel taking the long way home just so you could watch the night sky together. His truck rumbled and vibrated and bounced, but his arm around your shoulder steadied you.

“They like you a lot. My friends.”

“I like them too. And baby, I ain’t try’n.”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“To escape.” Joel kissed your forehead tenderly. “Heard what you said to Angie, and I ain’t trying to escape. Not in a million years.”

******************

due to everything happening, this will be my last fic for a little. If you know my other writing formates, I will be updating there a bit here and there but with everything going on I think it's best to keep things quiet for a min. the timing is fitting, as I have a lot of projects to do before school finals.

Then, I'll be backand raring to go again! I think a break will do me good.

I love you all dearly!

No tags bc given everything, I don't wanna draw attention from myself to anyone else. Don't feel like you gotta reblog this one, I would suggest you don't to avoid the heat.

Hugs, and thank you to everyone whose supported my writing for the last 3 years.

#PPCUGiftExchange2024 #Joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #joel x reader

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dark666posting · 6 months ago

Text

Dark666Posting Masterlist

TW: ALL OF THESE ARE DARK FICS. READ ALL WARNINGS.****** Don't understand why people read stories like this? Click here.

Started: 5/13/24

Total Works: 11

Stranger Things- (I no longer write for ST.)

Eddie Munson:

Stress Relief (Eddie x Innocent!Virgin!Reader) NON CON!! Your best friend finds a new use for you.

Mine. (Eddie x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! He's not accepting of your new relationship.

Billy Hargrove:

Doll Face (Billy x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! Breaking and entering and breaking and entering.

Until He's Bored (Flayed!Billy x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! Billy corners you at your new job.

Next Time? (Billy x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! You're a mechanic and an old classmate comes in for a tune-up.

Obsession (Flayed!Billy x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! Breaking up was never an option.

Fed to You (Billy x Drunk!Fem!Reader) NON CON!! A surprise near the end.

Bad Friends (Billy x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! A new addition to your friend group puts a strain on your on/off relationship with Steve.

Henry Creel (001):

In My Solitude (001 x Fem!Number!Reader) ((Reader is an adult, she's just also a number)) NON CON!! You're an unruly subject in the lab and somehow, you end up as Henry's pet.

Fallout (TV/Game)-

Ghoulish Overkill (Cooper x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! Cooper finds you in a bind and now you owe him.

Random-

Taking too Long (Nick Miller x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! Talking is taking too long, he's impatient.

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soft-persephone · 11 months ago

Text

I won’t be home for Christmas (Another Intentional Accident)

Lots of kisses and fluff // masterlist // WC: 2.7k

AN: Happy Holidays! I hope you all enjoy!

Nick was nervous.

He hadn’t done a clean shave since he started dating you. He wasn’t the most self conscious man in the world. As long as he and his clothes were clean and comfortable, he didn’t worry about it what he looked like too much.

But women were diffierent. Especially the ones you were in a relationship with.

Even if he didn’t care, they most oftentimes did. Caroline sure as hell did. He always ended up trying harder for her. Wearing certain shirts for her, ironing them more often than he would, not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to avoid the fight she’d most likely cause over it if he didn’t.

You made a comment if his shirt was dirty or if it had a hole in it, but you never pushed for him to wear anything that made him uncomfortable. In fact, you had a knack for buying him better versions of things he already liked.

For his birthday, you had brought him a more durable, expensive, maroon hoodie! The fabric was so damn buttery soft and it was heavy in the way expensive clothes were!

You were just amazing like that.

So, in an effort to remain the best boyfriend ever, he planned to surprise you a week before Christmas.

He invited a few of your close friends, and Winston, but that was only because they’d both have to drive over to Chicago in a few days so they’d make it home. That way, he also wouldn’t have to worry about missing a flight. They’d made the drive before when they were younger more than a few times, so it wansnt a big deal.

“Do you even have a key Nick?” Winston huffed.

“How are we supposed to get in? What kind of surprise is this?”

Nick proceeded to ignore Winston’s comment and open the door.

“Nick!” Natalie squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Natalie.” Nick laughed through his nose with a soft huff, putting on just as gentle of a polite smile.

All your friends were so touchy. It made sense because so were you. You always locked your arms with his on a walk. Opted to hold his hand whenever possible. If his face itched, you beat him to it, scratching the spot for him, insisting that your nails made a more satisfying scratch.

You loved his beard.

Placing your face against his if he wanted to show you something, whether he was pointing at something in public, showing you something on his phone or laptop, you stood as close as possible, placing your cheek on his. You always lingered just a moment longer, smiling against his face as you pulled his lips to match.

He knows he can’t kiss without touching your face in some way, or pulling you by your neck to come closer, but you couldn’t kiss him without kissing him everywhere. Every corner of his checks and down along the stubble or hairs on his neck.

Which is the main source of his nervousness today, he shaved his face!

His mom wasn’t always fond of his facial hair, claiming it ruined pictures and he was hiding his beautiful face.

But what if you didn’t like him without his beard? What if you started acting funny or stopped touching him?

He didn’t grow up in a touchy feely household.

He can count the number of times his father hugged him by hand. After a certain age, especially after his father left, he remembers his mom telling him he had to be a big boy. That he had to be brave and strong and be the man of the house now. That he had to look after her and his brother from now on.

Most of the hugs he ever had in life were from Jaime. Making sure he was alright or he didn’t cry too much in school, so he wouldn’t get beat up for it.

He liked your little touches. He liked how you couldn’t do anything or be near him without touching his shoulder or rubbing at his back at least once before passing by.

“Did you bring everything Nick?” Careesha asked, before enveloping him in a similar embrace and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

“I did!” He nodded and raised the wrapped gift for you in his hand.

“Perfect!” He watched as Natalie and Careesha jumped around and squealed with delight. You and your friends were definitely three of a kind.

“How’s work?”

“Any plans for the holidays?”

“Are you sure either of you aren’t going to bite the bullet and take the other hook for the holidays?”

“Reesha,” Natalie deadpanned, “no one’s trying to be like you and Xaviar anytime soon.”

“You don’t know what they want! They might! It’s their decision!” Reesha huffed through puffed cheeks.

“I don’t know what our future looks like right now,” Nick started with a hand on the back of his neck, “but I do know I’m gonna miss her while I’m home for Christmas.”

“Ugh, you guys are making me sick. I’m going to find more whisky for my hot coco.” Winston scoffed and headed off to the kitchen.

Nick sighed, “please, excuse my friend, Winston Bishop.” He briefly introduced, “his girlfriend dumped him before we flew out here.”

They shared a look and a couple of awkward smiles.

“Eek,” Natalie squeezed, “she’s almost here!”

Nicks eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “how do you know? Did she text or something?”

“No, I just checked her location.”

“From what?” Nick blinked.

A strange feeling started churning in his belly.

“Oh yeah,” Careesha nodded, “Nick isn’t a smart phone guy, remember? She said he likes to stay unplugged and grounded in reality?” She looked at him with a questioning smile.

“Uh, yeah.” Nick licked his lips, “something like that.”

Is that what you were telling your friends? You left out his distaste and constant distrust for the government and his fear of data tracking as well as the impending doom of mankind for choosing convenience over old fashioned know-how and basic human companionship. Also the death of community and togetherness in America and most likely the world. . . But that was fine.

Your version means less questions and arguments he’d have with everyone. You truly were a gift.

“There’s a find my iPhone app, you can share your location with certain friends, so now we can always know where each other are.”

Nick swallowed and tried not to grit his teeth.

He spends a lot of time with you.

If your friends are always tracking you, And that app is always tracking you, the government and who knows else is also tracking you! That means they are also tracking him! They probably listen too!

All those conversations he’d had with you. .

How many people know about—

The doorbell rang.

Nick’s anger was quickly buried with a wave of joy.

You were here!

“Okay, mama, I’ll call you later.”

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels to stay quiet.

“Wha—“

“Surprise!”

“Winston!”

“Oh my god,” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. “That girl that Nick’s been laying around with!” He fake gasped.

“Shut up,” you hugged him back with a smile, “I know you know my name.”

“Fuck, Winston,” Nick pulled you into his chest by your arm, “what about me huh? Your actual boyfriend?”

He firmly gripped your cheeks with one hand, playfully squeezing a little tighter and letting go. His smile wavered a bit. Your cheeks were cold. You had no scarf, or hat. . .

Fuck. . .

You were about as dumb as he was.

“Where’s your hat? Or scarf? Anything?” He fussed over you. As he helped you take your coat off, he rubbed the material in his hands.

This coat wasn’t thick enough.

And it’s fucking windy as hell and you don’t even have a scarf or hat. No gloves or mittens either!

“I’ll be alright.” You smiled.

Still holding onto your cheeks, he pulled you in for a kiss. Not failing to slip his tongue inside. He needed to taste you, feel your mouth on his, and commit the warm plushness of your lips and every corner of your mouth to memory before he leaves.

“No, it’s not.” He broke the kiss, speaking lowly in your face. His tone making butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn’t really speak, your chest puffed up and down, breathless from the kiss as well as the air and the cold. Perhaps he was right, but you had no idea where to shop for warm things or what makes a coat warmer compared to others. What day do you wear a hat or gloves or neither?

He brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“You know what I thought of all winter?” You shook your head, opting only to smile at him with your lips slightly parted. If you kept looking at him like that, he swore he was going to kiss you again, “whether your coat was warm enough? Did you have the right gloves? Did you remember what to do to your car the night before? Praying, that ice wouldn’t be on the road on the days you have to drive to work.”

“I know,” you placed a hand on top of his, rubbing at his fingers while his kept brushing your cheek, “I’m trying. I really am.”

You were listening to him, but from how wide and glossy your eyes were, he knew you weren’t, not really.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Because you're starting and you're half listening to me.” He laughed which made you laugh too.

“You shaved.” You placed your hands on his cheek now, and he couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. You’re standing so close to one another, and now you're both holding onto each other's faces like a couple of idiots, lovesick idiots in puppy love.

He’d rather have done this alone now. Without an audience.

“I like it.” You grinned.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help the hope that tinged his voice.

“Yeah!” You kissed him again. Slowly, and thoroughly, so tender and soft. Leaving him to bask in the feeling. He always lost track of time and every moment when you were leading a kiss. Nothing and everything felt so intense at the same time. “I’m still going to miss your beard but this is. . Different! In a good way!”

“Really?” Now it felt like you were laying it on a bit thick.

“It’s like,” you weren’t looking at him now. Your eyes dart wildly at everything before choosing to look down. He lifted your face with a finger, making you laugh dotly in his face. The feeling of it danced across his nose and cheeks. “It makes everything warmer.. hotter. It feels like everything is even closer than before. Like, I’m really feeling all of you.”

He kissed you again. Harder than before.

Not caring about who's around or who’s in the room.

And there it was.

Without the scratch of his beard you felt all of him. The heat of his cheeks on yours. You could actually feel all of the kiss and not be distracted by the scratchy feeling. You could focus on how hot and wet his mouth is. The way his tongue swept across yours, leaving you with no choice but to follow his pace. To allow him to consume every part of you. Leaving a strong want and desire to flood your senses.

“Alright, you two are seriously killing the vibe.”

“Oh,” you heaved with a smile, “hey Winston.”

Winston gave a fake smile before frowning.

“Wrap it up you two. You can have sex later.”

“Speaking of,” Nick started, “I got you something.”

Nick handed you a present wrapped in Newspaper. It had a bow made out of industrial rope.

“You're so environmentally conscious.” You smiled as you unwrapped the gift.

“If you mean cheap, with the best repurposing skills you’ve ever seen, I’ll take it.”

“Oh, Nick.” You smiled. Tears budded at your eyes. You didn’t have time to laugh at his joke before seeing what he had gotten you.

It was a giant cream wool and cashmere scarf, and a matching hat that was lined with silk.

They were so warm.

“Nick you shouldn’t have.” You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

“And let you freeze to death when I’m not around?” He scoffed with a smile. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, enough!” Natalie shoved Nick to the side and hugged you. “We’ve let you two have your moment long enough. There’s a room full of people that love you too!”

Everyone had a great time.

Winston got a little crazy after having to draw 4, four times in a row. Careesha claimed you were cheating, after you won three times in a row, but shenanigans aside, it was amazing. Neither of you would have changed this night for anything else in the world.

Nick went out to the balcony.

He imagined you having a small quiet time out here, in the morning time before you went to work.

“What are you doing out here?” You had put on the scarf and hat the moment you opened it.

You had your coat on now.

Not being able to help himself. He paws at the scarf on your necks maneuvering it in a way where it covers your head and your neck.

“Better?” He smiled.

“Oh my goodness you're a winter genius!”

“Well I was born and raised in Chicago.” He took the other cup of hot chocolate out fontour hand that you brought out for him.

“This spiked stuff is good.”

“Really?” Your eyes sparkled at him and he laughed.

“Absolutely,” he took another sip, “it’s the right amount of whiskey to coco and milk or whatever you used. All the proportions taste right.”

“It’s my recipe!” You beamed at him. “It’s the perfect amino of whisky, a little Baileys, and then regular hot chocolate stuff, but I also chop up some chocolate with the coco powder.”

“It’s so good! You should consider quitting a lawyer and becoming a bartender! I think you’d have a bright future.” He said seriously.

“Well I always wanted to change my career in the middle of all the success and fortune for another one.” You said just as seriously.

You both laughed and he wrapped an arm around you.

You both admired the city lights and falling snow.

Fuck. . . He wasn’t going to make it home for the holidays again. There’s always next year.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his mom’s number.

“Heeey, Ma,” he drawled. Biting back his smile so she couldn’t hear how happy he was, “I missed my flight again.”

He pulled the phone from his ear as she started yelling and asking questions.

“No, everything’s booked up or canceled, now.”

You pinched his cheek, and he bit your finger before you could pull it away. You let out a little scream of a laugh and he had to grab you and cover your mouth, almost making him laugh out loud too!

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll do better next year. . . love you too.”

“Nick—“

“—Let’s spend Christmas together.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes were watery and he kissed away your tears.

“Yeah, you big crybaby,” he smiled and kissed you, “let’s do this. Let’s spend Christmas together. Just the two of us.”

“I’ve never had Christmas without my family before.” You sniffled.

“I know, I know,” he rubbed your shoulders. “We don’t have to if you—“

“—no I do!” You cut him off with a kiss. “I want to spend Christmas with you too!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a big girl.” He wiped your last tear with his thumb. “I can handle a few days without seeing them.

Nick kissed you one more time.

“What about Winston?” You asked.

“Oh,” Nick blinked. “He probably already left without me.”

You blinked back at him for a moment.

“You're probably right.”

He kissed you again.

“Can you please stop bringing up Winston when I’m kissing you?”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

First time doing this tag thing. Let me know if you wanna be added I guess💀

#new girl #new girl fanfiction #Nick miller x reader #Nick Miller x black reader #Jake Johnson x reader #Jake Johnson x black reader #fandom #x black reader #x black fem reader #fanfiction #jake johnson #Christmas fic #christmas fanfic #Christmas fanfiction #holiday #holiday fanfiction

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mattysketchup · 7 days ago

Text

what are the chances.

fem!reader x brothers bsf!matt

a/n: hey y'all !! i was thinking about brothers bsf!matt for a while so pls tell me if this is terrible😭 also more of vb player!reader bcs i love volleyball lolol

new au so intro:

reader is nates little sister, 20, goes to harvard, d1 libero, a small influencer who makes tiktoks with her friends.

matt is family friends with readers family, 21, makes youtube videos with his brothers, who is also visiting boston for a bit.

warnings: swearing, suggestive material, social media posts (pretend the pictures are slides), matt is a bit of a perv, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking (one sip of alc) matt being drunk, not proofread !!

summary: your family friends, the sturniolos, were in town for a bit and you all go camping together. you and the triplets (specifically matt) are strictly just friends. but will the trip change that?

(masterlist) (pt.2)

➽──────────────❥

you were sitting in the living room with your best friend, celeste, scrolling on your phone. you both were on semester break from college and you were home for the next two weeks. the door opens and you see four boys enter your house. it was your older brother nate and your family friends; chris, matt, and nick sturniolo were going to go camping with you and your family, along with some other friends. it had been so long since you've seen them, given the fact they moved to los angeles. you run up to the door and embrace matt in a tight hug. "matt!" you say, as he picks you up off the ground and spins you around. "hey trouble" he says in response. you and matt had always been touchy to say the least, but it was never anything out of the ordinary. you hug chris and nick and you all talk for a bit and just catch up.

"okay y'all ready to go?" nate asks, walking over to you and the boys. they all murmur in agreement as you and celeste grab your bags. your parents had always been close with the sturniolos, so we invited them on our yearly camping trip. you all walk to the kitchen to see your parents and the sturniolos talking. "you guys packed?" your dad asks. "yeah, when we leaving?" nate asks. "like five minutes, i'll pack the car" your dad responds, grabbing everyones luggage and taking it to the van. we were taking two cars because of how many of us there were, it just made more sense. the sturniolos in one, your family and celeste in the other. minutes pass as you all get in the car, ready to go to the campsite.

you arrive at the campsite, hopping out to stretch. not too long later the sturniolos arrive at the campsite. "y'need any help with the tents?" nate asks jimmy. "no, you kids have fun. me and your father got it" he responds. nate nods and we all collectively decide to go on a walk around the campsite.

"so, how's L.A.?" you ask matt, seeing as the two of you were walking a bit behind the rest of the group. "it's been great, honestly." matt responds. "lot's of fun being with my brothers. s'been a little sad, y'know, 'cause i barely see you, but i manage." your heart skips a beat as he says those words. "aw, thanks. yeah, summer nights with y'all were always the best." you say, smiling. "you've changed a lot since i've last seen you" matt says, hinting at how you got curvier and actually look older. "ah, thank you matty" you say. "guys hurry up! you guys are taking so long" celeste groans, stopping for the two of you to catch up. "sorry" you giggle.

...................................................

| it's.y/nnn

🎵 - out of the woods - taylor swift

its.y/nnn small photo dumpp

liked by matthewsturniolo, therealceleste and others

comments

mattsturniolo damn i look great in this

^^ its.y/nnn alright buddy

christophersturniolo smores were fyre • ❤️ by author

sturnioloz..fan Y/N?? CHRIS?? NATE?? NICK?? MATT??

user.0032 are y/n and matt dating?

| matthewsturniolo

🎵 - thoughts on a balcony - mac miller

mattsturniolo back in bostonn

liked by its.y/nnn, christophersturniolo and others

comments

its.y/nnn only liked this for the third slide🫡🫡

^^ mattsturniolo fav slide

^^ user.0032 ok they are so dating.

nathan.doe8 missed you shorty • ❤️ by author

letstripp.41 THE GANG IS BACK TOGETHERRR

.................................................

the six of you begin to walk back to the campsite, wondering what to do next. you make your way back to see everything already set up. it was getting darker out so you all sit around a fire, warming up. you guys make s'mores, and have a great night. "hey, can you pass me a soda?" you ask nick, who was sitting right next to the cooler. "yup, here ya go" he says, handing you a dr pepper. "thanks" you say. "alright, we're going to our tents so try to be quiet." your parents say as they return to their tents, marylou and jimmy doing the same.

you had subconsciously noticed how your parents had brought alcohol, and the boys were drinking some white claws. you had always been taught to stay away from alcohol, but your parents weren't here, so who was going to stop you. yiu open your mouth to ask matt for a sip, but you look ahead of you to see your older brothers eyes giving you a death glare. it was like he could read your mind, like he knew you wanted matt. you decided you were gonna wait until nate went to his tent, he couldn't stay out all night.

about a half hour passes and the conversations between the six of you had just become drunk nonsense at this point. nate had finally tapped out from exhaustion, same with nick. that just left you. matt, chris, and celeste. "so y/n and celeste" chris starts. "how's college treating you guys? y'liking it so far?" you nod. "yeah, it's honestly amazing. a little busy, but it's fun." celeste agrees. "wait, are you still playing volleyball?" matt asks. "uh yeah, i am" you smile. matts eyes widen. the thought of you in spandex made his heart race. "cool, cool" he says. theres some more chatter between the four of you, just babbles.

"matt, can i try a sip of your drink?" you say, finally building up the courage to ask him. "uh- i dont know y/n...what would your brother say?" he looks at you with a slight concern. "he's not here, is he" you state. he sighs and hands you the drink. "one sip." he empathizes. you take a long sip of the grapefruit white claw in your hands, liking the taste. "how is it?" matt asks, taking the can from your hands before his brother could notice what was happening. chris and celeste were too busy flirting to notice. "s'good" you respond, the taste reminiscing on your tongue. "don't tell anyone i let ya have that." he says, and you nod in agreement.

matt, in his slightly drunk state had his arm on your thigh, massaging the flesh. you two had unknowingly shifted closer to each other, the two of you were basically cuddling. another half hour passes, and everyone had tapped out and went to their tents.

you were supposed to be sharing a tent with celeste, but chris had protested that he didn't want to sleep with someone who was drunk in case he threw up on him. that left you and matt to be sleeping in the same tent together, what are the chances. matt had a few more drinks before going to bed, so you didn't know what to expect. you both lay in the tent, a comforting silence falling between the two of you.

"y/nnn" matt groans, flopping his head on your shoulder. "why are you laying so far away from me?" you knew it wasn't a good idea to stay with him, but how could you leave him. "y/n, cuddle meee," he whines. "no! matt, go to bed" you whisper shout. "nooo pleasee?" he groans, his head falling onto your chest. he begins to giggle as he uses your boobs as 'pillows'. "if i let you stay here, will you shut up and sleep?" you groan. he hums in agreement, the post-partying tiredness hitting him. the two of you lay there, no one says a word. this just brings back how much you missed him over the years.

➽──────────────❥

a/n: this is really rushed😔😔 part two coming soon, y'all want smut or fluff ??

#mattysketchup #tessa yaps #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #bmf?#chris sturniolo #fluff #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #fanfiction #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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razrbladekiss · 2 months ago

Note

okkkkk this might be a strange request, but i vaguely remember you posting an ahs apocalypse inspired piece, and i just wonder if you can do one for joel? like… reader is one of cordelia’s witches, and joel is the michael langdon of the bunch. 👀 your old ahs shit was amazing, i CRAVE this. it doesn’t have to be smutty, just the visual of joel being literal satan is hot enough. 🔥

hey! oh, you’ve been here a very l o n g time if you remember all of that stuff 🫶🏻 but, anon, your wish is my command.

TREACHEROUS | Joel Miller

PAIRING: AHS AU antichrist!joel miller x witch!fem!reader

SUMMARY: joel is dead set on getting underneath your skin. you’re dead set on ripping his off. after the death of your supreme, you make it your mission to make joel miller pay for what he’s done.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: i’ve literally lifted THAT scene from ahs here but tweaked it so that joel is just a horny, evil lil antichrist. AHS APOCALYPSE SPOILERS (even though it’s literal years old.)🫶🏻. most character’s names have been changed for reasons. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. mentions of past sexual activities. lil bit of sexual tension. blood and blood loss. weapons. violence. some witchy magical shit. reader has hair long enough to push over her shoulder. not proof read, parts have been lifted from a previous unpublished work so sorrrrrry if there are little nicks. but enjoy, anon!

With Angelica, her downfall was predicted.

Whilst her powers had started to dwindle, to ebb away into something reminiscent of perpetual weakness, her expulsion into perdition was something that you had always predicted.

As much as you once admired your Supreme, she was a heathen. A wonderfully vindictive woman whose faculty had the potential to lay within the realms of moral righteousness, but instead nestled amongst decades of stewing villainy.

She was, by nature, evil. Completely and utterly freezing cold to the fucking bone. And you weren’t exactly sorry to see the back of her, then.

Angelica taught you a lot about the real world, how mortals viewed witches, and how warlocks had never seemed to be able to practice anything of upstanding value—which was remarkably rich, coming from her—but Sabrina was who truly bestowed any form of wisdom onto you.

She had always been the supreme, in your eyes.

Everything about the woman was completely and utterly indescribably perfect. Sabrina was the kindest, most adoring woman—let alone witch—that you had ever had the privilege of being in the mere presence of, and she could do no wrong, in your eyes.

So many sacrifices, so much she had lost to protect and care for her girls at Robichaux, and she had bounds and bounds to show for it.

Everyone passed into her care, each young woman that she was tasked with granting sanctuary to, had always walked away—or stayed—completely satisfied and ready to embark on their next endeavour with inexhaustible understanding of the powers that they beheld.

Sabrina was a perfect scholar, custodian, maternal figure.

And that was what maimed you.

“What’re you gonna do? Kill me?” Exhausted, you ask.

It’s a palpable fatigue, something that he can taste. Something that he’s feeding off because seeing you so forlorn, so hopeless is a notion so inexplicably delectable, Joel Miller struggles to reign in his lecherous urges.

“I’m fed up, Joel.”

“Oh, come on, cupcake. Don’t give in that easily.” He promises in that tone. That sweet, lustrous rhythm that’s dripping in an almost sickening sweetness. Saccharine, perhaps. “You’re more resilient than this. I know you.”

“You don’t know shit.” You defend. Snippy.

“I know that you like sharp objects. And blood.” Joel twirls the blade—that Christine had stabbed him with some five minutes ago—between his thick, calloused fingers, and lets out a gentle hum. “You liked it when I choked and pounded you at the same time.”

Oh, Joel. Fuck—Joel.

You cringe at the thought. How he used to sneak into your room—through the fire escape next to your window—and fuck you senseless. How Joel would hold his hand over your mouth—still decorated with his spend and spit—and rut into your pussy, fast and hard.

Many a night you would cry his name. Many a night Joel would stuff you full of his cock, and leave before you could wipe the tears from your eyes and cum from your stomach.

And though you enjoyed it—at one very, very low point in your life—you shirk the notion.

This is retribution.

“The sex was good. But I’ve had better. With you, it was just stupid mistake, after stupid mistake. ” You snort a laugh. Histrionic, of course.

Joel gasps. He feigns offense, taking a step toward you for he knows that you’re lying.

Nobody ever fucked you that good.

“You’ve had better? All those nights were just…mistakes?” You nod. Joel licks his lips. “How come?”

“Because you’re the literal spawn of Satan, for fucks sake.” You spit, gesturing to his blood-sodden chest, hands, face. “You’re the antichrist, Joel, and you’re hellbent on destroying everything that anyone has ever loved, so why wouldn’t it have been a mistake?”

He just stands there with a small, sly smirk, dripping what seems like buckets of blood.

“You killed everything.”

“I destroyed everything.” He corrects. “There’s a difference.”

He’s insufferable.

You can’t believe that, once upon a time, you regarded him as high as what you did Sabrina.

“You have killed Paris.” You ignore what he says. You’re the one walking toward him, now. “You killed my best friend, you killed Christine, and because of you—and whatever the fuck you did—my coven is dying!”

Joel doesn’t care to figure out who is who in your little monologue. They were all just burdens, to him. Witches in his way from fighting the greater evil.

“Baby—“

“Don’t you call me that, you bastard!”

Before he knows it, he’s being pinned against the stone-clad wall by a force so fervent, so unbelievably dominant, he struggles to comprehend that you’re the one behind it.

This is so incredibly sexy. I wish I could just bend her over my fuckin’ knee and—

“Don’t look at me that way.” Your chest is puffed out a little bit, tits damp with blood and sweat, and Joel wants nothing more than to lick that crimson away from supple flesh.

But he shrugs it off, hoping that he’s not appearing to be as desperate as he feels.

“Sabrina’s favorite witch is fucking insane.” He muses, using his entire strength—every last morsel—to pull himself back to earth.

Or, at least, to the ground.

“Believe me, I am no match for you.” You pant, still spent. “You’re as unbalanced as they could ever possibly come.”

Condescending, he tilts his head. “Are you flirting?”

“With you? Absolutely not.”

You take another step toward him, pushing maroon-coated strands over your left shoulder.

“With death?” You exert a soft, subtle smirk. “Always.”

“Angelica taught you well, hm?”

At that, you can find it in yourself to chuckle. Because you suppose that it holds some semblance of truth.

Danger—the concept of fucking dying—hadn’t been much of a thought before you came face to face with your first supreme.

You were once so mindful, so careful not to dance along the thin line separating life from death, and you’ve always been remarkably successful.

Up until today.

“She really did.” With a sick, toothy smile, you confirm.

Out on a complete limb and, with the power of telekinesis, you strive to snatch Joel’s weapon of choice from the confines of his fist.

It happens too quickly. You don’t have enough time to calculate the angle with which you should catch the blade, and it cuts deep into your palm.

You hiss at the blood loss, but you’ve got it.

He licks his lips.

“Angelica was a wonderful teacher.” Mimicking his earlier action, you skillfully spin the knife in your hand. “But Sabrina really taught me everything that I know.”

Joel snickers. It’s derisive. Cold. Seductive.

“She warned me.”

“About what, baby?”

“You.” Without reluctance, you blurt. You’re mere moments away from lunging forward and slitting his fucking throat.

But you remain poised. You apply some equilibrium. Something that Sabrina had always ingrained into your mind.

“Paris did, too.” At that, Joel stills.

What could Paris Montgomery possibly know about him?

“Well, it wasn’t so much a warning. More a divulgence of past activities.” You tease, watching the man start to fucking sweat.

Beads of perspiration fall from his temple to his cheek, glistening wickedly beneath the sparse light within the space. You notice it.

Is he getting turned on? Or is he shitting his pants?

“What you did to your poor grandmother, firstly.”

“I’d tread very carefully, if I were you.”

“Why? What’ve I got to lose now, Joel?” Your words are doused in venom, tongue blanketed with vitriol spite. You’re spitting his poison back at him.

Not many would be ballsy enough to contest him. To regurgitate his wickedness.

But Joel’s baby is.

“She killed herself to get away from you—all the shit that you put that poor fuckin’ woman through—“

“I said enough!” He barks, stalking toward you. You can almost sense where it’s going. “Do not fucking talk about her.”

The two of you are toe to toe, now. Almost chin to chin.

Plump lips smirk, raising the knife to rest over the placket of his shirt. Slowly, you lift it—glide it—toward his partly exposed chest.

“Why not?” Your qualm is tangled around a soft, dulcet whisper. Something that resembles comfort, almost. “You’re gonna kill me, anyway. So, what difference does it make—“

“All of the difference in the fucking world.”

You both still. Your arm drops, the blade resting against your side. Simply stunned.

“Sabrina.” Joel greets, stepping away from you. He makes his way toward the supreme, only stopping when he feels a hand tug him backward. He shrugs you off, though doesn’t dare to get any closer.

“Sabrina, I have this handled.” You—the youngest witch in the clan—plead, understanding what’s brewing.

What this means.

“Go back to Melissa.” Almost completely desperate, you state.. “She needs you—“

Sabrina’s gaze is penetrative. It seldom flickers away from Michael as you strive to reason with her.

“She’s fine. Bloody, but fine.”

He snarls. He hadn’t succeeded with killing off the entire council quite yet.

But, with his rival before him, Joel cannot afford to waste any more of his most valuable time.

“How did you think this would end?” Each syllable crushes you.

You can feel something ripping through flesh and bone as he shows absolutely no mercy.

“Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win. Miss Supreme.”

Sabrina looks between you two, watching your wounds weep and heart visibly shatter within the confines of a wickedly palpitating chest.

“Not on your own.” She exerts confidently, about to drive her claws as deep as they could possibly go. “You’ve been led by the hand, coddled the entire way. By your father, the warlocks.”

With each flying comment, Joel’s blood begins to boil. It bubbles, sputters like wildfire. But he has to take it.

Listening to what she has to say is the very fucking least that he can do.

“I look at you and I don’t see a man. I see a sad, scared, pathetic little boy so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand fucking nuclear bombs.”

“But I never expected to.” Almost instantly, he declares.

The depletion, the absolute fatigue riddling their bodies is painfully evident to you as you can do absolutely nothing aside from watch—and wait—for the ending that you have so desperately tried to put off.

“Like a cockroach, I knew you’d survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to.”

His fists clench, rings scraping against bloodied and bruised palms. Your cunt throbs—remembering when his knuckles were deep inside of you—but it’s not the right moment.

He makes you fucking sick, now.

“And now I’m gonna have the satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.”

“She has not failed.” You speak up.“She will never fail, either. And when she dies, her legacy will live on for fucking ever. Which is a hell of a lot more than what can and will be said for you.”

He turns his head to heed the snark, the sheer irascible complacency written on your beautifully withered completion, and scoffs.

“The world is over, sweetheart.” Joel tells you. “When Sabrina dies, then so do all of you other witch bitches—“

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Fed up of exhausting the same point over and over, Sabrina rasps. “Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing, success and failure.”

Tears begin to brew, to roll downwards and toward the apples of her cheeks.

“But failure is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope.”

Your breath hitches, rhythm becomes sporadic.

“You will get to watch me die.” Says the supreme while her voice cracks, and Joel Miller watches her begin to crumble from the inside out.

He’s enjoying it too much.

“But you won’t find it satisfying.” Sabrina finishes, snatching the bloodied knife from you.

Her throat closes up, heart slows down.

“Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion, motherfucker.”

And before you have time to wrangle your thoughts, to produce a reaction, you’re watching as your supreme—the one woman that has cared for you since you embarked on that beautiful spiritual journey at Robichaux—plunges the blade straight into her heart.

“No. No—“ Unable to produce anything aside from a mere whisper, you rasp.

Joel is just as shocked. Devastated, perhaps. Because he isn’t the one driving a dagger into Sabrina’s chest, or ripping her head from its place on her neck. It’s her. Just how he had feared from the start.

She’s gasping for air, but there’s a smirk creeping toward her face as she stumbles backward—fist perpetually curled around the blade protruding from her chest.

“Sabrina…” You mumble, breath breaking into a sob as your supreme—your best friend—mouths I love you before falling—flights—toward the ground.

“No!” Joel yells, sprinting toward the ledge. “Fuck!”

But then your eyes light up.

“You were never going to get the last laugh, Miller.”

“It isn’t over.” He pants. His chest heaves as he watches blood ooze from the body that lay atop the concrete ground. “It is far from fucking over.”

He turns on his heels to see you there in the doorway, draped in black, somehow even more vibrant than when you arrived today. Your skin gleams, it glows and you smile because you are certainly aware of what will happen over the course of the next sixty seconds.

Sabrina is dead, so a new supreme must rise.

“It’s over, Joel.” Your nails dance along the crimson jacket, inching closer to his throat. “You failed to execute whatever the fuck it was that you had planned, and now its over.”

You’re teasing as always, stifling a wicked little snicker.

Joel wishes that he could fuck the smile from your face one last time. And maybe he will. When you’re both rotting in purgatory for eternity.

“We had fun though, don’t you agree?’

“I thought you regretted it?”

“I have only one regret in this life.”

Licking your lips, Joel’s eyes search your face for an answer.

“And, tell me, what would that be?” His habitual cockiness returns for one final jab, though he is simply no match for you, now.

Your telekinetic energy—ardent power—is being put to the test once more, summoning that fucking knife from its residual position lodged between Sabrina’s ribs.

It flies into your grip—by the handle, this time.

“Not trying to kill you sooner.” You snort, thrusting the overworked knife into the toughest, hardest part of his spine and he drops to the floor.

Blood pours from his back, saturating the already red-stained blazer, and you’re simply unable to do anything aside from laugh.

Because this is the end. It’s all over and fucking done with, now.

And though—once upon a time—you enjoyed fucking his brains out, watching him die a slow, painful, death—at your hands—is a lot more satisfying.

Will he end up coming back? Who knows. With the antichrist, anything is possible. But for now, you’re reveling in the idea that you—a mere witch bitch—is the reason for Joel’s unruly demise.

You can’t help smiling as you get to the ground—hands on your knees—and rasp; “I’ll see you in another life, baby.”

#this is literally ahs apocalypse but joel-y. and i am liiiiiiving for it besties #anon you are my hero. you also deserve a cookie for being here this long #joel miller au #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x reader fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

Text

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

during - part fourteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

life goes on, for a time.

a/n: a BIG one wowowowowow okay the end of this one fully got away from me and I was possessed by SOMETHING but idk man fuckin’ enjoy, more on the way, thank you always for the love 🤍

word count: 6.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, backstory, canon typical violence and injuries, death/murder, guns, knives, drinking, some rough sex, ass-play, spit-play (POSSESSED I TELL YOU), joel miller is a menace and so am I.

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new chapters/works!✨

You keep going.

It’s easier, honestly, that it’s ever been before. There had been so many moments, between the outbreak and seeing Joel again at that gas station, where you didn’t know if you could keep going, if there was enough left to make you want to.

Deanna had her ways, yanking you out of it more often that not with a bottle of gin and a you keep your chin up, girl. And the kids — well, one toothy grin from Emily or a cheesy joke from Henry and you knew you had more in you. Nick helped some too, though he was more of a distraction than a solution, something infinitely more evident to you now, to you both.

You’d hurt him, ending it finally, completely, the way you did, and his reaction had cut you deep, but it had to be done. You couldn’t keep up a charade, and in retrospect, yes, maybe you should have waited, stopped yourself from falling into Joel’s arms (and bed) again until you’d told Nick what was happening, but…

I can’t love anyone the way I love him.

It’s always gonna be him.

It would have unfolded the way it did no matter what.

It’s Joel. It’s always gonna be Joel.

And despite the guilt you chase away with deep kisses and glasses of liquor, it’s easier, to keep going. It almost feels…normal, in a way you haven’t felt in a long fucking time.

Life is still bleak as hell; there’s no getting around that. FEDRA’s been kicking into high gear in Boston, handing out punishments more than ration cards, refusing people at the gates, falling back on some bullshit about overpopulation, that there’s not enough food or beds or resources for any more people.

You’ve heard rumours that the QZ in Philadelphia was overrun, that the reason there have been so many survivors at the Boston gates is because they fled to the closest QZ still standing. You’ve heard rumours about Kansas City, that FEDRA’s become more ruthless there than anywhere else in the country, that getting caught out past curfew gets you hung rather than beaten. Or worse.

Joel moves in, officially. Not that he has that many things to move into your apartment, but his clothes take up space in your closet, his toothbrush beside yours, and you wake up beside him every morning. You let yourself get used to it, to feeling his breath on the back of your neck when the sun comes up, arm slung around your waist, always keeping you fit against him while you sleep. It’s nice. It’s really fucking nice.

Joel and Tommy take the handyman jobs in the apartment buildings, and you and Tess try to stick together, taking the same gigs more often than not. You pool your resources, and the three of them are quick to offer up help to support the kids, to take the pressure off you and Deanna. You’re grateful as all hell, and so is Deanna, despite her relatively grouchy demeanour towards you, ever since you told her you ended it with Nick, officially.

You thought she’d understand, to a degree. It had taken nearly a half bottle of gin in the early days of the QZ, but she’d gotten the full story out of you, the epic love affair of Joel Miller and Liv Stone, the unfettered version. You’d fallen asleep on her couch covered in tissues that night, woke up with the worst hangover you’d had since you were eighteen and got drunk with Anna on wine coolers over Spring Break. Deanna had offered you some sympathy, then.

But now, she’s been taking your — could you even call it a breakup? — your severance from Nick a little too harshly.

“He’s the reason I was in lockup the night Angie beat the shit out of me,” you’d reminded her, feeling a twinge in your side at the memory. “Or did you forget that?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Liv,” she’d thrown back, her face the harshest you’d ever seen it. “He put you in lockup to smuggle your friends through the gate. I’m not a fucking idiot. Don’t try and blame that on him. You got your ass kicked cuz you pissed Angie off, plain and simple. That’s not on Nick.”

“Oh, so then I should blame you?” You’d thrown a hand in her direction, and she’d glared so hard you thought she was gonna burn a hole through your skull. “I pissed off Angie trying to get those meds for Henry, which you asked me to do. So if you wanna start pointing fingers, start looking in the mirror.”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t have gotten the meds for Henry?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You can’t talk yourself out of this, Liv. You knew what you were doing with Nick, all five fucking years. You knew exactly what you were—”

“It’s Joel!” you’d nearly screamed, tears crawling up your throat. “I never thought I’d see him again. It’s a second fucking chance, Deanna. I can’t waste that. I won’t. And I was as honest as I could be with Nick from the start. He knew about Joel, he knew I still loved him, he knew I couldn’t ever love him the way I love Joel. I never once told him I could.”

“Oh, and that makes it all better?”

“I know that I hurt him. But he hurt me, too, in case you give a shit. I know that I did a terrible fucking thing, I’m a terrible fucking person, and I’ll feel guilty about it forever, but it’s Joel. And I just…I can’t do anything else.”

She’d stared at you long and hard then, not so harsh a glare as before. She put her hands on her hips, boot tapping against the floor. “I have to go get the kids from school. Just…I’ll see you Friday, for dinner.”

You just nodded, swallowing hard, the tears retreating. “Friday.”

“Bring Joel.”

“Okay.”

(Dinner had been awkward as hell, to start. The kids had stared Joel down for the first hour, but by the time the table was being set, Emily was showing off her latest drawings and Henry was trying to rope Joel into a game of Monopoly. You helped Deanna with dinner, and while she was mostly quiet, before you left that night, she hugged you tight and whispered: “You’re not a bad person, Liv. You’re not.”)

After your official reconciliation with Joel — and subsequent fallout with Nick — Tess was the next person you went to. She stood firmly by the conversation you’d had in the food bank, kept to her agreement to join up with you to smuggle, and that was that.

You can’t force his hand in this.

Maybe I can.

You knew she had — Joel had given you the brief version of their conversation — and you were grateful, but it was just another thing you felt guilty for.

“You don’t have to,” she says to you. You’re outside the wall, heading for the hotel a few blocks out of the QZ, to scope out your route. Your drop is almost at the city limits, with some smugglers from Hartford, ones you’d happened across on the radio. You’ve been spending more time with Abe in the radio room in your spare time, trying to make as many new connections as you can. “Feel guilty, I mean. I didn’t give him to you. He was never mine to give. I knew that from the start.”

“What d’you mean?”

“He says your name in his sleep. I thought he was just mumbling for the longest time — y’know, Liv, live — then I figured it out. I asked Tommy once, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. And well, I know the rest now.”

You chew at your lip, bat swinging lightly in your grip, adjusting the backpack strap on your shoulder. Your bags are mostly empty; you’re anticipating a good food drop from the Hartford people, and they’d asked mainly for drugs in return, which you were happy to supply. You still have some left from the Providence drop, before Joel and Tess had showed up. It feels like a year ago, not a few weeks.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re alone, Tess.”

“I’m not alone,” she tells you quickly, an actual smile on her face. “I have you. And Tommy. And Joel, still, in a different kind of way. It doesn’t matter. Life’s too fucking short, and I couldn’t…” She trails off, shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not alone.”

You shoot her a glance, seeing the way her thumb is rubbing at the wedding ring still on her finger. It’s her nervous habit, you’ve noticed. “We’ll find you someone,” you say, almost jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, elbowing her gently. “I’ll set you up, add QZ matchmaker to my resume.”

Tess barks a laugh. “Please, god, just no fucking FEDRA soldiers, yeah? I don’t think I could deal with the amount of testosterone that fucker Cowan is carrying around.” She squints at you, turning to you slightly. “Tell me he was at least good in bed. He must have been, for you to put up with that bullshit.”

You force yourself to laugh in return, staring at the ground ahead, kicking pieces of debris from your path. “He was much nicer, when it was just me and him. And I hurt him bad.” You shrug, sighing. “It’s the past but he…yes, to answer your question, he was very good in bed.”

“As good as Joel?”

You nearly choke, sputtering out an actual laugh at her bluntness. “You really want me to answer that?”

“Hey, it’s just us out here.”

“No one’s as good as Joel,” you say, and she throws her head back with a louder laugh. “Best I ever had. Ever. In my life.”

Tess just keeps laughing, pulls the knife from her belt and taps it against your bat. “Amen to that.”

The conversation wanders as you walk. She tells you a bit more about Baltimore, the few smuggling jobs they’d pulled before they’d gotten kicked out of the QZ. Turns out, her plans had been similar to yours: get a FEDRA soldier on her side, entice them with the goodies she smuggled in, threaten them with blackmail. Rinse and repeat. And it worked, for a time.

“There was this one guy, Anderson. Joel never liked him, and really, neither did I, but he was one of the first we got to agree to help. And…you know, Cowan actually reminds me of him.” She huffs a laugh. “That’s probably why I hate him, just out of fucking principle.”

“You don’t have to hate him.”

“He’s FEDRA, he put you in lockup, and he’s a jackass.”

“I also cheated on him, technically.”

She shrugs, giving you a conspiratorial grin. “Best you ever had? You did what you had to.”

You just laugh, but the sound feels hollow.

“Liv,” Tess says, and you stop short, turning towards her when she grabs your arm. “Jokes aside, I just…I get it. Why you did what you did. I know you feel guilty, and I know Cowan said some shitty things to you, but…we do terrible things, sometimes. To survive.”

You scoff. “That’s the understatement of the fucking century.” With a sigh, you push forward, gravel crunching under your boots, and Tess follows suit. “Joel said that too. That he did some terrible shit out there to survive. That we’re not the same as we were. And we’re not. I’m not.”

“Yeah, well, the world hasn’t exactly left much room for shit to stay the same, has it?”

The bat swings in your grip, and you let the tip knock against the toe of your boot. “Not so much. Never thought it would turn me into a killer, mind you. But…we do terrible shit, right?” You glance at her from the corner of your eye, feeling her gaze locked on you. “And no, I’m not just talking about Infected.”

Tess nods, slowly, her throat bobbing. “I…I shot that soldier, Anderson. First FEDRA soldier I ever killed, probably won’t be the last. But, it was either me or him, and I shot first. Then again, cuz the first one didn’t kill him.” Her brow is hard, fingers twitching over the gun strapped to her thigh. “It was either me or him.”

You nod, and the memory is rising in your throat and spilling off you tongue before you can stop it.

It was early days, just after the wall was completed, when restlessness got the better of you and you wanted — no, needed — to get out of the QZ, just for a while. There were fewer connections, back then, less people out in the open, more dead on the roads. You didn’t like Geoff from the get-go, something about him just made you feel super fucking uncomfortable, like every word out of his mouth was drenched in grease. But, you didn’t know any better, back then, and you wanted to believe a deal was a deal.

“He set me up,” you tell Tess, tightening your grip on the bat. Retelling the story makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “He’d managed to get a few Infected locked inside this old hair salon, and threw me to the wolves, basically. Took the bat from me. I got fucking lucky; there was a straight razor left in one of the drawers, and I took them both down. It was the first time I’d killed one since the outbreak.”

“What happened to Geoff?”

“Once I got away, found him a couple hours down the road, got his gun off him and put a bullet in his head, got my bat back. I figured if he kept going, he’d just try and screw the next person he made a deal with, and on and on it would go. I had to end it.”

Tess nods. “You did what you had to.”

You scoff. “That’s not the worst part.”

After Geoff, you got jumpy. You didn’t want to let up on the smuggling, and you were still trying to find new connections, but you took more precautions. You brought a gun every time now, along with the bat. You only met in locations you chose, and refused anyone who tried to persuade you to go somewhere else. You didn’t trust people; you couldn’t.

“This guy, Eric, he just rubbed me the wrong way that day. He wasn’t a bad guy, per se; I knew he ran with some shitty people but he didn’t seem so bad. He met me down in the subway, simple ammo trade.” You blow out a breath. “I thought he was reaching for a gun, and I pulled the trigger before he could. Like you said: it was either him or me. And I chose me.”

You pause, waiting for Tess to say it again. You did what you had to.

“Three days later, his wife shows up at the gate, asking if he’d come through, toting this little boy that was a dead fucking ringer for his dad. I thought I was seeing a ghost.” You bite down on the inside of your cheek. “They still live in Boston. Her son is the same age as Emily.”

It’s a few minutes, before Tess has anything more to say. “You couldn’t have known.”

“You’re right,” you agree, nodding. “I couldn’t. But it still doesn’t hurt any less. When they’re infected, it’s easier. Almost. I sometimes wonder if they’re still…them inside, but same thing. It’s either you or them, and you have to decide. You do what you have to — even if it’s terrible — to stay alive. To survive.”

Tess opens her mouth to say something in response, but all hell breaks loose before she can get a word out.

You’ve turned down the road the hotel is on, and there are cars everywhere, craters in the earth from the bombings, debris and decay everywhere you look. The bullets ring out from behind the vehicles, and you grab Tess by the handle of her backpack, yanking her behind a nearby truck. The gunfire makes it rattle. “Fuck!”

“These the guys from Hartford?”

“Shouldn’t be. We’re not even close to the city limits yet.”

When you chance a look around the truck, your heart jumps into your throat. There’s at least five of them, all with dark-coloured bandanas covering the lower halves of their faces, two of them closer than the rest. Guns drawn, scores of ammo hanging from their belts. You adjust your grip on the bat just as Tess screams, and you turn to see her being pulled away, one of the raiders yanking her by the hair. You shout as one tries to grab you the same, but you slip out of reach, swinging the bat. It makes contact with his knees, a loud crunch making you flinch. He falls like a rock and you pull your knife out quickly, slamming the blade into his skull.

You do what you have to.

Abandoning the bat for the moment, you grab the guy’s gun, averting your eyes from his face. It’s an automatic, and you pop up from behind the truck, taking aim and pulling the trigger. The three that hadn’t advanced don’t stand a chance, bodies falling before they have the chance to shoot back at you.

The one holding Tess is trying to pull her into one of the storefronts along the side of the road.

“Hey!” you shout, the word nearly a growl. “Let her go, asshole!”

The guy turns, seeing his fallen comrades, and fumbles. It’s just enough for Tess to get her knife out and swing upwards. It ends up lodged in his throat rather than his head, and he drops awkwardly, clawing at his throat, blood pouring around his fingers. Bile rises in your throat, and you breathe slow as he hits the ground. Tess pulls her gun out a moment later, and the gunshot echoes through the road.

You sprint over to her, each of you giving the other a once over. “You good?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

“Who taught you to shoot like that?”

You actually laugh this time. “Cowan.”

Tess’s jaw drops. “Motherfucker.”

You collect all the guns and ammunition you can carry. One of the raiders has a nice-looking bowie knife on his belt, and you take it, sheath and all. Tess makes the rounds, filling her bag with ammo, while you try and leave some space; you still have to make it to the edge of the city.

Being as heavily armed as you now are earns you some weird looks from the Hartford smugglers once you reach the city limits. The chain link fence that was once the only thing standing between you and getting the hell out of Boston has not done well over the years. The metal is cut in a million more places, bent in others, no doubt the result of years of Infected climbing over, survivors trying to make it to the QZ gates. When you explain what happened, the leader — the one you’d been dealing with over the radio, a tall woman named Gwen — softens. “We lost a few of our own to raiders in New Haven. Shit’s getting dark.” She sighs. “Darker than it already was.”

The deal goes easily, which you’re grateful for. You throw in one of the guns and some ammo you pilfered from the raiders to sweeten the deal, and Gwen returns your generosity with some of her own: a carton of eggs. Fresh ones. It’s been a while now, since the Boston food bank has had anything fresh that wasn’t an apple or a tomato. Meat was becoming more and more scarce, and so were eggs. The ones Deanna used for breakfast were the powdered kind, sat like a lead weight in your stomach no matter how much coffee you washed them down with.

“If you have eggs, does that mean…chickens?” Tess asks, curiosity dripping from her voice, and you can’t help the way your stomach growls at the thought of chicken wings.

Gwen laughs. “I’m not having the chicken or the egg debate with you, but yes, there are chickens. I don’t suppose you have seeds, in Boston? Fruits, veggies?”

“We do,” you nod.

“Bring us some next time, and we’ll bring you one of the hens in return.”

You and Tess debate the best way to cook a chicken all the way home.

Once you’re safely back in the QZ, you and Tess unload the guns in one of your caches, head back to the apartments to divvy the food up between you and Joel’s apartment, Tess and Tommy’s, and Deanna’s. She goes to take the food up to Deanna, and you pull out the bowie knife you’d nicked.

It’s as good an olive branch as any.

You find Nick out on patrol, standing outside the same alleyway you’d stopped in when Tommy had arrived in Boston, when Nick told you Deanna was looking for you. At first, he makes no indication he’s even noticed you, his eyes trained forward, hands glued to his gun, his jaw set.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” you say, your voice low, forcing yourself to look casual. “But, there’s something I want to say. Need to. Please?”

After a beat, Nick turns, his face still schooled blank, but when you step after him, deeper into the alley, the mask cracks. “What?”

“This is for you,” you say, pulling the bowie knife out from where you’d stashed it in your jacket.

Nick told you once, about a gift he’d received from his father, when he first joined the army. A knife, similar to the one you now hold towards him. The blade was engraved with his family name, the date he enlisted, sheathed in fine leather. He lost it, on Outbreak Day, in a fight with an Infected soldier.

“It’s…I know, it doesn’t make up for what I did. I don’t think anything can. But I just…I want you to know that I’m sorry, truly sorry, and if hating me makes you feel better, then that’s okay. But I never meant for things to turn out this way. And what I said before, about Joel, it’s the truth, but I never wanted to hurt you like I did, and I hope you know that.”

He takes the knife from you, pulls the blade from the sheath, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he inspects it. “Where’d you get this?”

“Does it matter?”

Nick scoffs a laugh. “If I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that to me.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” you say, nearly reaching a hand out to him, but stopping yourself. “I really am.”

After a long moment, he nods, still staring down at the knife. “I only ever wanted you to be happy, Liv. To be safe. And if that fucking…if Joel is the one to do that, then I have to be okay with that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “It’ll take some damn time, but I’ll…I’ll get there, I think. I’ll try. Just don’t expect me to be friends with him, yeah?”

You laugh. “I don’t. I just…I am sorry, Nick. I feel like a broken record, but…”

“It helps,” he says with a nod.

“Good.” It feels awkward, suddenly, and you take it as your cue to leave. “I’m gonna go.”

“See you around,” he says, and you just nod, heading towards the street, out of the alley. “Hey, Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not a bad person. You did a shitty thing, but you’re not a bad person.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Thanks, Nick.”

He nods again, and you turn on your heel, heading back towards the apartments.

Time moves on.

Nick still keeps his distance, but he doesn’t look at you with sheer hatred in his eyes anymore, so that’s nice. Deanna learns you’ve made peace with each other, and tells you you did good. It helps. The guilt still lingers a bit, but it helps.

You keep up your smuggling, bringing Tess and Joel and Tommy — and any combination of the three — along with you every time. You teach them your routes, your hiding spots, where your caches are. Joel’s impressed, if not a little hesitant, Tommy of a similar mind. Tess remains firm that you’re a badass, and is always the first to volunteer to come with you.

You’re all still quiet, about your pasts, about the time leading up to the four of you being in Boston together. Except for what Tess told you, the story you returned — one she swore she wouldn’t pass on to Joel, one you knew you had to tell him yourself.

You will, in time. You know you have to. But…you’re not there yet. And in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t fucking matter.

None of it does.

Before you know it, it’s been nearly six months since they arrived, and you decide to celebrate, the only way you can in the QZ: food and booze.

“Family dinner?” Joel repeats, his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. It’s early in the morning, you’re both getting ready to head out, pulling on clothes and shoving feet into boots. You usually sleep fully dressed, boots and all, but Joel’s tendency to get you naked has become a nightly occurrence, and sometimes you’re too worn out to redress when you’re done.

You turn on your heel, head for the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets and pulling out a jar of tomato sauce and setting it on the counter. Joel’s close behind, grabbing the jar when you put it down, smirking down at the label. “Look familiar?”

His jaw twitches, something nostalgic in his eyes. “Same shit I used to buy in Texas.” He smirks, setting it down again, sliding his arms around your waist. “Didn’t we make spaghetti, at my place? What was that, our second date?”

You lean back against him, covering his hands with yours, lacing your fingers together. “I made spaghetti; you tried to make risotto.”

“That’s right,” he agrees and his hands move to your hips, turning you to face him. “That was the first night we—”

“Uh-huh,” you cut him off, leaning up on your toes until your mouth brushes his. “It was.”

Joel slides his hands up under your shirt, palms curling around your ribs, giving you a hungry kiss. “And now you expect me to sit through dinner with…?”

“Tommy and Tess.”

He growls, ducking his head to bury his face in your neck. “To sit through dinner with my brother and Tess, thinking about that the whole time.”

You hum, tangling a hand in his hair. “I’ll be thinking about it too, if it’s any consolation. I’m always thinking about it.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he groans, nipping at your throat.

You’re both late, Tess giving you a pointed look when Joel pecks you goodbye when you meet her out front. “I swear, you two are worse than teenagers sometimes,” she mumbles, and you just laugh.

The day goes quickly — you and Tess each work a shift in the donation hall, which you’re told is shutting down, and the food bank — and before you know it, you’re back at the apartment, putting pots on the stove, pulling a bottle of whiskey from the space behind the fridge.

You and Tess are already a little sauced by the time Joel and Tommy come through the door. Tommy has paint smeared on his cheek and Joel is laughing, that kind of belly laugh you haven’t heard since Austin. You grin as he kisses you hello, Tommy pecking your cheek once Joel disappears towards the bedroom to get changed. “Kisses from all the Millers,” you laugh, stirring the sauce on the stove. “Aren’t I a lucky gal.”

Joel pokes his head out of the bathroom, brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

Tess laughs with you, pulling the chair beside her out for Tommy to sit. She slides him a glass of whiskey a second later. “What the hell is on your face, man?”

“Ah, hell.”

The evening passes so comfortably, you wonder if you’re dreaming, for a moment or two. The boys both won’t shut up about how delicious your spaghetti is — even though the pasta is the flourless crap FEDRA hands out, your sauce more than makes up for it — and it’s not long before you’ve polished off the bottle of whiskey between the four of you. Your chest feels warm, from the alcohol, the good food, the company.

Once you’re all done eating, Tommy produces a deck of cards and convinces you all to play a few rounds of euchre. You and Tess team up and kick the boys’ ass, to the point where Joel declares you must be cheating, which Tess is having none of. “Never thought you’d be a sore loser, Miller!”

The game changes from euchre to war, and Tess and Tommy make their own rules, deciding to smack the table as hard as they can when the card matches, even if the other’s hand is already there. It has them both howling after a couple rounds, you and Joel just chuckling as you watch. Joel slides your chair closer to his, close enough that he can loop an arm around your neck, hauling you against his chest.

He buries his nose in your hair as you lean against him, moving down until his mouth is close to your ear. “How much longer we gonna entertain these two, hmm? I need you all to myself, baby. Need to be inside you.”

Your thighs clench, cheeks flaring with heat, and you smack him in the chest, burying your face in the collar of your shirt.

He just chuckles in your ear, low as anything. “You like that, huh, baby? You gonna let me fuck you, aren’t you? Always so good for me. Promise, I’m gonna make you feel so damn good, baby.”

You elbow him in the ribs. Hard. Hard enough that he lets out a low oomph, and both Tess and Tommy’s heads snap in your direction. You stare back at them, feigning innocence, whiskey buzzing in the back of your skull. “What?”

A few more games of cards, and Tess literally falls out of her chair, laughing the whole way down. Joel declares the night officially over, and Tommy gets Tess to her feet, half-carries her towards the door. “You need help?” Joel asks, and Tommy shakes his head.

“Nah, we’ll be fine. You two have a good night. Thanks for dinner, Liv.”

“You’re welcome, Tommy.”

The door closes behind them, and Joel lingers, locking the door, closing the curtains, clearing off the table. Meanwhile, you head for the bed, fumbling with the buttons on your shirt — Joel’s shirt, always Joel’s shirt — before giving up and falling forward onto the mattress, reaching for Joel’s pillow, bunching it beneath your head.

The bed creaks a moment later, Joel’s weight settling over you, hands planted either side of you, mouth at the back of your neck. “You’re wearing far too many clothes, missy.”

“You should fix that,” you slur at him, turning your face enough to see the shadow of him above you. You wiggle your hips, lifting your ass until it presses against his crotch, and Joel hisses. “You got promises to make good on, Joel Miller.”

“I do,” he replies, letting out a low hum as he drags his hand down your spine. “Don’t I?”

He shuffles back, and the loss makes you whine, but he slides your needs apart a moment later, grips your hips and lifts until your ass is in the air, face still pressed into the pillow. Joel doesn’t waste any time, fingers curling in the waist of your leggings and pulling them down, taking your underwear with them. You barely have a chance to breathe, his mouth covering you a moment later, tongue darting between your folds. “Fucking christ, Joel.”

He hums again, the noise vibrating through you, one hand coming down on your cheek in a quick spank a second later. You can feel yourself flooding his tongue, already wet from his teasing at the table. Reaching one hand back, you card your fingers through his hair, keeping him against you, angling your hips back to push yourself further into his face.

“Pretty girl,” he rasps, dragging the flat of his tongue up and down, back up and back down again. The rhythm makes your muscles tighten, the promise of an orgasm prickling at your senses. “Always taste so good.” He gives you another quick spank, the motion making your flesh tingle. “Always feel so good.”

“Joel.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he grumbles, diving back in for a moment before pulling back once more. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, just like I promised.”

You moan into the pillow, whining again when he pulls back, your hand falling out of his hair, flopping sideways onto the bed. You curl your fingers in the bedsheets instead, gasping loudly when he presses two wet fingers into you, right to the knuckle in one fell swoop. His thumb reaches up, pushes lightly between your cheeks, and you let out a choked noise you didn’t know you were capable of.

“That feel good?” he asks, and you nod, your face still pressed to his pillow. “You want more, baby?”

You nod again, furiously.

“Want you inside me,” you murmur, your eyes rolling back in your skull as his thumb presses harder. “Fuck, Joel, please.”

There’s the shuffling of fabric, the clink of his belt buckle, the front of his thighs pressed to the backs of yours. You turn your head slightly, just enough to see him, the hem of his t-shirt tucked between his teeth, his cock in his hand. The sight alone makes you clench around his fingers, biting your lip as he pulls them out. They dig into the meat of your ass a moment later, spreading you open just a touch more. His thumb stays where it is, and you watch, stomach coiled in anticipation as he leans forward just slightly, drops his jaw until the t-shirt falls from his mouth, and spits.

It lands right where his thumb is, slides down over where you’re already drenched, and he flexes his hips forward. You try to bury your moan in his pillow, but Joel reaches down with his other hand, fists your hair in his hand, tugs a little.

“I wanna hear you, baby.”

“The neighbours—”

“I don’t give a fuck, Liv. Let me hear you.”

A choked moan falls out as he slams all the way forward, burying himself to the hilt, his thumb pressing down at the same time. You keep your face to the side, keep your eyes trained on his. He lets go of your hair just to take hold of your hip, pulling back just to slam forward again, the feeling and movement making your thighs shake.

“Joel, fuck—”

“That’s right,” he grits, and his pace only gets faster, the apartment filling with the sound of skin on skin. It drives you wild. “That’s fuckin’ right. Say it again.”

He spanks you again, just that much harder, and you cum.

It hits you like a freight train, your back arching fiercely as you lose it, eyes screwed shut, thighs shuddering against Joel’s. Faintly, you hear him groan, barely aware of the next spank he gives. You’re half-sure you’ll have a handprint on your ass come morning, but you don’t fucking care. His name spills from your lips, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, and your stomach flutters as he fists his hand in the back of your shirt and drags you up.

You can’t catch your breath, your chest heaving as he takes your chin in his hand, one arm banded around your middle as he keeps slamming into you, dropping his fingers between your legs. You don’t know where one orgasm finishes and the second begins, but he covers your mouth with his, drinks your noises down like they’re whiskey instead of moans.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers against your lips, his hips stuttering against your ass. “Love you so goddamned much.”

You flail a hand back, diving your fingers into his hair, tugging until his head moves back slightly, so you can look him in the eyes. “Then cum,” you murmur, leaning forward enough to bite at his bottom lip. “Cum for me.”

He does, his entire body shuddering with it, his grip on you like an iron vice. The warmth is delicious, spreading through your lower half like the whiskey had, only the feeling of Joel is that much more addictive, always leaving you wanting more. You both collapse forward a second later, a tangle of limbs and lips, never far from reach.

Joel wakes with a jolt. The nightmares have been less and less common, since he got to Boston, since he started sleeping in the same bed as you again, but they still show their faces every once in a while. Usually the drinking keeps them at bay, but tonight they’re intent to haunt him.

You’re not where you should be, tucked against his chest, and for a moment, panic seizes his heart, makes his hands go cold.

“Liv?”

You’re perched on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up to your chest, staring out the window. His mostly unbuttoned shirt is falling off your shoulders, and when he calls your name, you glance at him quickly before your gaze moves back out the window. Joel doesn’t miss the shine in your eyes, and sits up slow, reaches for you, rubbing one hand up your back.

“You all right?”

“I’m happy,” you reply, head tilting back on your shoulders, face illuminated by the moonlight. “I am unreasonably happy, Joel. I’ve done so much terrible shit, and yet here I am, stupidly, unreasonably, unfathomably happy.”

He reaches up, pinches your cheek lightly, catches the tear in the corner of your eye. “Then why you cryin’, baby?”

“Cuz I know there’s a chance that I could wake up tomorrow, and it could all be gone.” Your voice cracks, and Joel sits up further, slides down the bed until he’s pressed against your side. “That you could be gone.”

“Never,” he tells you, and opens his arms to you, sighing when you fall into them, presses his mouth to the crown of your head. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby. I’m right here, you hear me? I’m right here.”

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