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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | part III

Joel Miller x F!Reader [8.3k] summary: Joel was never a man of religion—thinking about the enormity of everything was not for him, but he understood the concept. Devotion. An other-worldly comfort in something, or a place. Joel had never, on the other hand, experienced religion. As he lifts his touch from your hands to explore the rest of your body, Joel is blessed, and this is holy. The air around him sizzles with everything existing between you two. 📝 This is the final part of this little story, and I hope it meets the expectations. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ soft!joel (he is, deep, deep inside, okay?), bathing together, slow undressing, deep talks, first time, dirty talk, begging, fingering, guided orgasm (yes, Joel Miller does walk you through it), penetration (p in v).

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Joel wished he felt comfortable in his skin.

He remembers there was a time when he did. He used to have a lighter step, lighter touch, lighter eyes.

All his edges feel sharp now, even to him—silver like steel, or the hair that glinted at him from every reflection as a reminder of why, and up until some time ago, he'd kept up a good shell. An exoskeleton of great thickness that kept him going with minimum blows to the skin.

Until a while ago, he had no reason to try being anything other than this.

Being this kept him alive, but—it would also keep him away. From Ellie. From you.

He wanted to be close to you. Closer than he admitted to himself for a long time.

As close as physics would allow, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.

He thinks about all that as he puts Ellie to bed.

Not that he calls it that. Or, god forbid, you did.

Ellie claims to be grown enough to live all on her own if it came to be, and yet, she somehow always ended up 'awakening' sometime in the night. Joel lost count of how many late-night conversations with you had been interrupted by that sight: her short, teenage frame being outlined in the darkness standing stiff and awkward, right before she blurted, "I keep hearing... you know."

Their noises.

Ellie's nightmares were about their noises. One day, you simply got up, took a deep breath, and said, "C'mon, let's go back to bed, I think you need just need some company. We can talk, if you want. Or not.."

No one — not you, not Joel — called it 'putting her to bed' because Ellie was grown, and 'far from a kid' already, as she'd put it. She didn't need some grown person talking to her until she falls asleep. It's just nice, she said. It's just soothing, because according to Ellie, they — the grown-ups — have a tendency of forgetting the 'younger folk need some stimulating conversation too, man'.

How could someone not love this kid?

Joel watches her sleeping body for a few moments. He places and tucks the blankets around her to keep her warm, and closes the door on his way out.

He hated to admit how magnetic she was at the start. It was so difficult to accept the sharp wit and horrible jokes were simply her. A part of her, born embedded in her genes just like a lack of patience, or straight hair.

When Joel opens the door to the bathroom, he's greeted by steam.

The whole place is still covered in it despite the hour of dinner.

He sees you sitting in front of the bathtub, and proudly announces. "Miss I don't need a lullaby today asked me to tell her a story," his eyes feel yours on him as he takes off his jacket.

He hears the scoff. "She's been asking me that all week," you answer with a tone that says you're behind, old man, "And she even threw the 'make them good stories, too—I don't want any boring, pg-13 rated shit.'"

"The army teaches shitty manners," he takes off the flannel jacket too and starts unlacing his boots. "She woke me up with a wet finger in my ear once. D'you know how long it's fuckin' been since someone did that? Decades. It's been literal decades."

"I think you meant to say the army doesn't teach them any manners," you say. "And hey—at least that's kind. You, on the other hand—"

"Oh, here we go," he laughs.

"—you decide to wake people by saying their name. Announcing their name, in that deep, Odin-inspired vibrato that already gives them a heart attack, and then you just," you blow raspberries in the air. "Fuck off."

He laughs. Tries his best to keep the volume low because he knows better, but laughing and kicking off his boots feels amazing.

None of you have showered since the attack.

A week was a gross amount of time to spend without a washing rag and hot water rubbing every inch of your skin, but the poor unfortunate truth of living in an apocalyptical world remained almost natural now—it was not weird to happen. Just gross.

Cleaning yourselves to the best of your lonesome abilities when there are bruises littering almost every member of your body is also a challenging task.

He's done poorly in his, and he wished bashfulness still existed somewhere in his bones for him to feel sorry about it. Instead, Joel let his body fall back with only a layer or two of clothes left in him and laid on his back on the floor.

He says, "I can't believe I'm gonna shower," fully expecting some witty remark back.

A joke. A jab. Anything other than— "Joel."

A soft, single whisper. Joel's head whips in your direction, and he almost gets up in an electric shock—your curled-up position awakens his instincts of 'cradle, cover, protect'.

Scared. Had he made a mistake? Had he jumped the gun and done something too fast? Something wrong?

Before he can jump to any conclusions, you add. "I'm gonna say this in a single breath 'cause I'm feeling oddly stupid about it and the rational, intelligent parts of my brain that know this means absolutely nothing can't find a single argument back for the question then why the hell do I still feel like every inch of my skin is a part of my insides..." you breathe in deep, and lift your head, tilting your chin high. Your eyes make sure to meet his. "I—," you choke on it once, and Joel witnesses as the blush rises from your neck, painting like watercolor its way up your skin. "I never... did anything. Nothing that went beyond sad, pathetic displays of.. what I can only call 'making out'," you laugh, humorless. "God, I feel like a fucking idiot."

"You're not," he affirms. He might be failing faintish, and his body may be running hotter than the insides of a volcano, but he'll be fine. "You tell me anythin' you wanna tell me, and I'll listen. And if you want to—"

"Don't," you interrupt him. "Don't take it back," your eyes shine at him. Don't take back your offer because it would hurt. It would kill me. "Please."

Joel would do anything you asked. "I won't."

You smile. "Thank you," you say softly. After another deep breath, you go on. "I wanted to tell because... It's only fair you know. Considering—" you swallow visibly around the word, and his body mimics the action as if you and he are your own hive of two, "I've thought about this. A lot, Joel."

A lot, Joel.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, feeling the air punched out of his chest. He looks away from the earnestness on your face.

"And whether it's because a first impression always stays or not, I don't know, but I'm gonna remember."

And so would he.

Joel gets up from the form, his body now released from the imaginary chains that kept him bound to his place as you said your peace, and makes his way up the step to where the bathtub is and you're sitting on the floor.

It hits him that he's kissed you, and you've kissed back, and Joel's free to do it again.

The thought is what makes him sit right back you, pulling you in direction of his chest. You go easily, and it melts him more than the prospect of hot water on his body sometime soon.

"I thought you'd be happy I opened my mouth instead of stewing on stuff and keepin' it to myself and, y'know," he saw above your shoulders the way your hands did movements all over the place, and he laughed on your neck. "Didn't think you'd be this cuddly, though."

Joel rubs the bottom of his face on your skin just for that comment, enjoying feeling you squirm. "You opening your mouth is never a problem," he bites back with amusement.

"Callin' me blabbermouth?"

"Callin' you straight spoken," he corrects. "Precise."

"Awn, shucks—thanks, man," the sarcasm in your voice makes him groan. He's surrounded by smartasses, and it pains him. The laughter is nice, though; Joel guesses there are worst things than spending winter locked in a mountain cabin with someone who makes him laugh at the end of the world.

Sure, he is bruised and so many things are not right with humankind, but—not here.

He won't think about that now.

It's not his weight, just for these moments.

When you're done laughing, your body sags inside his hold, melting like snow under the Sun. He drinks it all in. "I'm aware this will be good for wounds 'n all, but I hate that I know it's gonna hurt so much the first couple of minutes that it makes me want to postpone it. What's another week without a proper shower, right?"

"Hell."

"Yeah, but so will be submersing our bodies in this," you point at the tub.

"At least it's together?" Joel offers.

Your head resting on his chest tilts up until you can look at him properly, and he's always thankful for the opportunity of seeing you smile. "That was cheesy," you whisper.

Once more, Joel sighs. He's smiling, but—it sounded so damn cute. Cheesy, accused between the lips that formed that teasing smirk, that mouth that—

Joel hates missing things.

He writes down in his mind that he will never miss your mouth; he'll always have it. If he wants it, he'll take it, and so he does.

Your face is angled, waiting for a hand of his to cup it and guide it toward his lips.

Kissing you is better than most things Joel's mind still clung to as the ones worth living for.

His personal favorite, the sun hitting skin for the first time after a long winter—it felt like that, but better.

He felt a tingle in his spine when you melted on him, prompting him to kiss harder—Joel starts moving his lips on yours and is granted with you following his lead like in the kitchen; you open up so well for him. You follow the rhythm of his tongue, and it makes it feel easy when he knows that's far from the truth.

When he pulls back, Joel thinks about what you said.

I never did anything.

Joel has to take deep breaths. You open your eyes after another heartbeat, and he's burdened with the silly need to kiss your entire face, so he does.

First the lips again. Then the cheeks, and the nose next, and you start giggling when he moves to your forehead, whispering, "tickles, Joel," but he doesn't care. There are the temples, and finally the chin, and—he exhales, smiling content at himself.

He looks ahead to the tub. It's a soaking type, made of dark wood he's almost sure comes from the forest surrounding them right now. "You think we'll fit in there?" he asks.

He feels your head moving to look, too. "It's made to fit two adults, I think."

"Ellie said it was the best bath she's had since she left the school," he shares.

Your hum of approval makes him realize just how hard this task is going to be—pun not intended but well applied. "She really needed one."

"We all do," he scoffs. Reluctantly, Joel lets go of your body to get up and finish undressing. He sees the two wood buckets you used to heat up water for Ellie's bath are full again, so he asks. "You heated up more water? Why?"

You pierce him with a are you kidding me, look. "Joel."

"Yes?"

"We need a wash, rinse, and repeat. I don't know about you, but I feel gross. Disgusting. Crusty—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts, bursting into laughter. "I got you. You can stop tryna seduce me," he says while standing up.

Even though there's steam, he knows your blush is from him. For him. "Wasn't trying to," you argue with no heat. Smiling.

Joel is so fucked. "Really? All that sweet-talking about how much you stink had no goal?"

Your response is only a roll of the eyes, and Joel starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Hmm. Could've sworn it got me here showering with ya."

"You offered," you laugh, and then—your gaze lifts, sees what Joel is doing, and lowers, twice more bashful than before. "There was no seducing involved."

He groans in response. "Nope. 'm pretty sure your mouth was on mine. That's seducing," he states. "Hey," he calls. Your eyes find his. "You can look, 'yknow? 's nothing you won't be seein' in a second." Joel would say 'it's nothing special' but he knows you well enough. You'd hate hearing it, you'd fight him on it, so he thinks on his words. "If you want to," he adds, because fucking hell.

You do look up.

The second he feels your gaze on him, Joel's lifetime insecurities reappear from the shadows, birthing all over again like a flair under his skin.

He's okay. 5"11' of scars covering inner demons always on a battlefield, veins of whiskey, and a chest that he swore up and down would die empty.

It feels hot now. Occupied.

The shirt comes off, then the white tank top that's more a rag than a piece of clothing by now, and he only musters enough courage to look at you again as he unbuckles his belt.

The permission didn't prepare him to see you staring.

Gazing, checking him out with eyes as thirsty and obvious as a starving person being presented with a plate of their favorite food.

Joel swallows thickly around the knot that forms in his throat.

He wants to say something, but instead, he just undresses.

He wouldn't know what to say.

Joel didn't want things for two decades. He wants so much now that he feels like his body could vibrate at a frequency that would break glass.

His pants fall on the floor, and Joel stands there only in his underwear.

You swallow visibly, too. Then you look up into his eyes and say, "Permission to share a weird thought?"

That got his curiosity. You two loved sharing weird thoughts — no judgment, that was the rule — and he sees you nodding.

You start undoing your clothes as well. "You know that feeling of being so comfortable around a person 'cause they make you feel like you can be yourself?"

"Yeah."

"I always had that with you," you say. Joel removes his underwear with a single motion and tries to push down the feeling of hotness climbing up his chest. "And... I don't know if it's post-apocalyptical shit or not, but, d'you feel like you have a hunger that could never be fulfilled, ever again?"

Joel sits back down while he waits. "I do," he answers. "About everything, right?"

"Yes!" your exclamation is earnest. You get it. "I'll never satisfy any of it," you conclude. "That same feeling—that despair that a decadent world creates in you... it made me look at you and think 'I wanna bury myself in him' because—it brought me comfort? I hope that's not a too weird thought, I don't wanna freak you out or anything, but..." you shrug. He sees you trying to gather the words, and waits. "I just always had this.... feeling, this thing where I looked at you, and you're so broad, and tall, and strong," you shiver, and Joel feels his body twitching in response, "I wanted to get under your skin. Just... make myself all cozy inside you. That's probably some weird, mother-issue kind of thing, but."

It makes him laugh.

Joel looks down at himself for a second because taking in what you said and watching more of your skin become visible made his throat dry and his hands itch. "Trust me," he says. "You're under my skin."

Despite already being naked, Joel feels he peeled off another layer just with those words.

"You ready to go in?" He doesn't check for how you took the confession. He'd never said anything close to it that if he thought about it too long or too hard, something inside him would burst. "It's gonna hurt."

It takes a second for you to answer, and he's already up and dipping his legs inside when you do. "Good to know."

Nothing more than a soft whisper, and it heats up his insides better than the water.

Joel hisses in pain as his body submerges. While he alone occupies a good portion of the tub, you'll fit. A tight fit. Another knot forms in his throat.

There's the faint sound of clothing pieces hitting the floor and when he looks to the side, you're like he is—naked.

Vulnerable.

Just like him, you do it in one go, submerging your body despite the pain of the still-throbbing wounds. Your face scrunches in pain, which is the only reason he can focus on something else other than your legs touching his underwater.

The rag used for bathing is hung on the tub—clean, dry, washed.

He picks it up as you throw some water on your shoulders, and thinks about how much of you he'd like to know still.

So he asks. "Can I start?" He'd never be able to focus on something else with your hands on his body—washcloth separating the touch or not.

"You—you're actually gonna—uhm. Bathe me?"

"That's the idea, yeah. Unless you don't want me—"

"I do!" you interrupt. "I just—I thought you were only gonna clean my wounds."

There's not much space to move around now that you two are sitting, but he can move.

"No," Joel dips the cloth in the water and grabs the soap bar outside the tub. "Can you turn around for me?" He needs to find his guts first. If you're facing him, Joel will just gaze. Desire. Distract himself. "Wanna start with your back."

"'kay."

When you turn, Joel's mind goes blank.

Here he is, sharing a tub with the one person who's made him feel more human than anything else, and all he can do is long for.

His worries as he walked to the bathroom involved discomfort or tension. There's none to be found, even in the silence.

Joel sees your hair all tied up and wished he was the one to do it. "Aren't you gonna wash your hair?" he asks, and his hands start to work.

"One thing at a time, don't you think?" you chuckle. "If I was gonna do that I'd have to heat up another bath."

"Just for the hair?"

"Just for the hair. Ask El, doing this shit nowadays is a nuisance."

"I'll take your word for it," he's careful with his hands. There aren't many open wounds on your body, only splashes of purple, green, yellow, and blue. A Monet painting. "Please tell me if I hurt you."

There's a moment of silence before you answer, "You couldn't." It's the softest he's ever heard your voice, and he hears the confidence and truth in it. You don't believe he could hurt you. You're a hundred percent right, of course, but hearing it still soothes him. "But I will," you add, turning your face around to give him a smile.

Instead of returning it, Joel leans forward and kisses the lips that continue to do it—every time you confess thoughts and feelings buried in you, Joel feels something stirring inside. Being born, maybe. Growing.

You lean back to the kiss, and suddenly, your back is touching his chest. Joel makes sure to keep his hips propped against the bathtub so this is about what he said more than what he wants, but this is now his favorite position.

When you pull back, Joel feels himself smiling.

Opening his eyes, he finds you staring.

"It'll hurt when I wash that knife wound," he remembers.

Your eyebrows pierce together, recalling the gash you have on your left side. "It'd hurt more if it were days ago?"

It's offered like leverage. He takes it. "Brave one," he states. So much braver and smarter than he'll ever be—someone who still has the courage to feel what she feels and say it.

Joel hopes it'll rub off on him.

"You're the brave one," you counter. "You know... I think you never told me about what you did before all this."

He frowns. "No?"

You shake your head. Joel adds more soap to the cloth and starts washing your arms, "I used to work construction."

"Did you like it?" your body is loose in his hold. Joel holds up one of your hands and washes it slowly, back and forth, like he'll do to every part of you.

"I did. I think there's something to be said about building a home. About building good structures, y'know?"

As he cleans your body and wounds, the questions keep on coming, and he keeps on delivering answers.

For your arms, you ask about his work, and who he worked with. Joel takes note of every scar you have on your body, curious as to whether they came before or after the outbreak.

When he moves to your back and chest, you ask him about what he used to enjoy. He talks about it—trips with his brother, barbecues with friends and family, a nice and peaceful week at a distant country somewhere where he barely speaks the language, but he can get to know different cultures and people.

Joel stops when he sees the tattoo of a date under your right boob, trying his hardest to ignore the desire to squeeze what's in front of him.

Not the time. Bathe first, feel it later.

"Whose birthday is it?" he asks, putting the tip of his finger on it.

You stay silent, so he keeps on moving. He slides his hand underwater to your leg, and palming its way down your thigh and calf, he grabs hold of your foot; he's analyzing for any wounds but finds none, so he starts washing your legs.

When the answer comes, Joel's hand stops for a moment.

"It was—," your choked-up voice pulls his eyes to your face, and the sorrow he finds there makes him ache. "Oh, god."

A choked-up laughter. No humor to it, and a thousand ghosts on your face tell him he's about to hear something that'll change him again.

"You don't have to—" he starts, but you raise a hand asking for silence, for give me a second, and he stops. As long as you want to.

"We never talked about the 26th," you state. He goes back to washing your legs, shaking his head. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

"I was—" you breathe in deep, and look at him again searching for something. "I never told this to anyone."

Joel nods. "I never talk about it, too."

"It doesn't help, does it?" Your eyes are red-rimmed, and Joel notices there's much about you he never figured out. You're younger than him by a lot, but you were there.

"No." Sirens, flares of green light, and the cracking cacophony of screams and shots still wake him up almost daily. "No, it doesn't."

"I miss talking about him," you whisper to him. A tear slides down your face, and it cuts him.

Who does she miss? "Who do you miss?"

He's moved onto the other leg when you answer. "I was at my best friend's house on the twenty-sixth. She was working double shifts at the hospital to pay for—," you stop.

Joel can only take so much. He pulls you close until your face is resting on his shoulder, and he feels his eyes stinging.

He gets that. Sometimes saying a name was too much.

It took months before you heard of Sarah, and her name was all you got until now.

"Take your time," he says.

"Caio needed new glasses." Your arms wrap around Joel's middle, and he knows you'll be staying in his arms until the tale's over.

"Caio," he repeats. Recalling the roman numbers, he adds. "January twenty-five."

"Yeah. He—Caio broke his on his solo mission to find fossils in my backyard—well, technically my dog Diana was responsible, but he always said 'don't blame her, Gumma, she only wants to kiss me', so we said it was his fault."

"Gumma? Who's Gumma?"

"I am," you laugh. "He couldn't say 'godmother when he was born, so he shortened it. He told everybody I was Gumma, his s-second mommy."

Joel tightens his hold on you, suddenly very aware that he's shaking.

"He was sick," you go on. "So no school for him that day. Which means I was there. I could work from home, so Milla always called me."

"Was it just her?"

You nod on his shoulder. Joel starts rubbing his hand all over your back and he could never tell if it was for your comfort or his.

Both, probably.

"We raised him, basically," you sniffle. "Milla and I lived on the same street. She was basically disowned for her teenage pregnancy, so I told her parents they were always shitty at their job, and that unlike them, I knew what family meant, and that we didn't need them. If she wouldn't, I might as well."

Joel smiles at that. "Sounds like you."

"We moved, worked shitty jobs, and lived together for the most part. My parents helped us with bills for the most part of the first years. When—when Caio turned eleven, my parents paid for the coolest party. And—I'll never forget it, 'cause it was the last one he had, so..."

Eleven.

Joel buries his face and tears on the curve of your neck.

"So on the twenty-sixth, I was at home with him all day. Fucking hell, how unfair is that? That I got all those hours with him and—" the way you burrow your face on his throat makes Joel wish he could make you live under his skin. Protected from everything. Even memories. "When everything started going wrong, Milla was still at the hospital. She called twenty-three minutes before all signals went out to tell me that something was wrong, very wrong and that she felt we needed to go somewhere safe. She said 'babe, I want you to think of nothing else but getting to safety, d'you hear me? Go to Mr. Nunqua's house, he has a safety bunker there—go, and take Caio. I'll find you there."

Joel listens to the rest of the tale with his heart in his hands.

You got there, but Mr. Nunqua was already infected.

He was the first person you killed. His wife was the second.

You managed to get both you and Caio to the bunker, safe and sound, but it wasn't enough.

It never is.

Caio being Infected was a crueler end than anything Joel's mind came up with.

"He realized it, Joel. He noticed something was wrong, and—"

It takes a few more moments before you can finish what he already expected. "He asked me to make the pain stop before he could hurt me. He said 'please don't let me hurt you, Gumma'."

Milla found you cradling his body in your arms hours later, and that was the last you two saw of each other.

He lets you take your time to feel better before he pulls your face back to look at it.

The pink cheeks and eyes hurt him, but when he kisses your face, your lips, all he can think is how proud he is of you.

"Can I do you now?" you ask, pulling your hand out of the water in a request for the cloth.

He hands it to you, and watches as you do the same routine as he did.

In return, he asks you all types of questions.

He thought it would be hard to concentrate with your hands on him, but they're so dainty and careful that Joel feels transcendental.

No one ever took care of him like this.

Even the lovers that he once showered with, it was never this intimate.

In the bruises where he hisses in pain, you kiss somewhere else in a soothing manner. His shoulder, the nape of his neck, his outreached arm.

When the question comes, Joel is waiting for it, but he's not ready.

You answer the question about the places you've been and he replies with, "Oh, Sarah always wanted to go there. India."

"Did she?"

It's such a simple answer.

It locks him up the same. His muscles become tense, and his head shakes almost on its own.

I can't do it. He wished to be strong like you but talking about her hurts. "It hurts to talk about her. I don't—I can't."

He expects a nod, or a change of subject.

What he gets instead is you cupping his face in his hands and looking at every inch of his face.

"I know it hurts," you state. Joel, for the first time, believes someone. We raised him. You know how it feels, you do. Which is why what comes next blindsides him. "But Joel—she's already gone. I never thought I was gonna be able to speak about him with someone who understood, but—here you are. We cant—are you going to let her be forgotten, too?"

Bullets hurt less.

His body reacts for him—the inhale is shaky, almost frail. Your words hit harder than shots, but that's okay, because your inquisitive mind and sharp tongue were a couple of the reasons why he went back for you.

It was needed.

"I—" you start. Stop. Joel looks up at you, breathing out the air stuck inside his lungs, and wills himself to breathe. "You know..." your voice is quiet. "I think higher... beings or whatever—that does exist, 'cause—" your laugh is humorless. "I would totally be dead because of my stupid mouth if my path had crossed with anyone else but you."

Now he gets the lack of humor—a sad statement, but never untrue. Not even a hyperbole. Joel nods, "I'd say it's because you say things that you shouldn't, but it's the opposite. And most people don't like that."

I'm not most people, he thinks.

Thank you for saying what you did, is left unsaid. He sees in your eyes that you heard it loud and clear.

"What I'm saying is... you don't have to be ready now, but—" when you lean, his eyes close on instinct, but the kiss lands on his cheek. Sweet. Saccharine. "Please know that you can. When you want to."

He nods.

After a deep breath, you look at all of him. "I think we're clean. Next round?"

The tub is emptied, filled up again, and Joel thinks about how right you are, and how often.

The second shower will be perfect. He's clean now, but when he sits back down on clean water, it feels different.

He groans, and you laugh in response. "I know, right?"

Joel liked it better when you were fitting your bodies against each other.

The water in the tub seems to carry the tension of what you two have been waiting for. Conducting the electricity in each other's thoughts.

"What now?" you ask.

Joel knows what now. "C'mere," he pats his chest.

Like a well-oiled machine, you spin around and fit yourself against him in a second.

This time, Joel pulls you close until you're basically on his lap.

"Now this," he answers. To feel. "I think I had a dream like this once when we were camping."

"What?!"

He likes how shock always makes you look at him, even if it means craning your neck in the worst positions. He laughs. "Yeah. It was a river instead of a cool tub in a forest cabin, though."

"There's no way you—" words are cut sharp, and your eyes widen. "You did! Oh my god, you actually did. You avoided looking at my face all day for two days after that, I thought I'd done something wrong!"

He takes the hit you land on his shoulder with a smile. "You did. You sunk a knife in the middle of an Infected's head and kept me from dying."

What else could he say?

Joel shrugs. "It was hot."

He likes how you can look shy even sitting on his lap, feeling all of his body. "You're crazy," you laugh, looking down.

"Mmm. And don't you forget it," he kisses your shoulder, and that's it—that's all both of you needed to wish for more.

Your hand comes to cover both of his, and Joel is giddy with excitement when you guide his hands from your middle to your breasts.

It's silent permission. An invite.

It's all he needs.

"Can I make you feel good?" he kisses right under your ear and nuzzles his nose right there, goosebumps rising on his skin in response to your full-body shiver.

The next touches are bathed in silence.

The only sounds in the room come from the water moving with each move of both your bodies, and the soft exhale that escapes your lips.

Joel doesn't think about how long it's been since—everything feels like a first time.

A rekindle of sorts.

The hands you guided to your boobs stay there for a few moments, getting a feel of their size, their softness, how perfect they feel in his hands.

Your head drops to his shoulder, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed.

Joel thinks he's dreaming.

The faint pain in some places of his body is the only indication he has of reality.

Nothing else matters when you say, "Joel," so softly, so pleading.

"I'm here," he kisses the words on your skin. Your cheeks, temples, your shoulders that are right there. "I'm here, darlin'."

In the soft moans you let out, Joel plants a flag to signal his way home now every time he's lost in darkness.

The moans are so earnest and shaky that Joel starts trembling when you do. His hands move to explore your belly, and he pins the wound on your side as a reminder for later—it'll scar. He wants to kiss it better. Will kiss it until he's satisfied.

When his hands reach your waist, he imagines you feel his heart racing faster.

He takes his time with it, not only because you deserve it, but because it feels good.

Playing with the hair on your pussy feels good because it makes you whimper. Touching the folds with the tip of his fingers gets your legs to open a little wider until they're spread apart. Joel moans at the gesture and is gifted with another shiver. "Like this?" he asks, doing it again.

Tracing his fingertips up and down the folds.

"Joel," you grind against him, reminding him that he's here, and he's aching, too.

When you do it, your ass finds his cock hard as a rock, and it snuggles to grind on him, giving him the first feel of friction.

With another moan, Joel's lips are sucking on your earlobe. "Tell me what I do that feels good," he states.

Then he dips his fingers inside.

"No one's touched you here before?" his middle finger dips right into the core, applying pressure but not touching.

Your moans vibrate on his chest. "N-no one but me."

"Yeah?" the mental image makes him even harder. Joel thought that wasn't even possible anymore. "Did you finger yourself a lot?"

You nod frantically, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch.

"Did it feel this good?" he moves his middle and ring finger up until they find your clitoris, and he starts rubbing circles on it; he pinches it, measures it with his knuckles, plays with it.

Maybe that's why you don't answer.

He'll take your moans as a good sign. Your chest is panting, and Joel feels a little drunk. He hasn't been drunk in years—no whiskey available for regular people will do that anymore; too diluted, too fake.

Your heavy breathing and nails sinking on his forearms get his mind hazy.

Joel kisses, licks, then sucks on your neck. "Talk to me, darlin'. I wanna know. I need to know."

"Joel," you say, but too loud. He uses his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the whimper you let out makes him twitch against your back.

"No screaming." Not this time. "I'm waitin' on your answer."

"I don't remember the question," you whine.

"Did it feel this good?" he pushes only one finger inside, and your mouth opens wide. Joel might not make it—it's so fucking tight and all he can think about is burying himself in it. All of him.

"Nonononono, it didn't, it didn't," you mumble.

It's a slow process, opening you up.

All the time, Joel talks in your ear about how good you're doing. "Taking my fingers so well, look at ya," he sounds drunk if he pays close attention. Two fingers fit in too tight, so Joel takes his time until he feels you opening up.

There's the grinding that never stops—the more Joel pushes his fingers in and out of you, the more you move in sync with his hand, grinding back up against him with every push inside.

It's torture. He loves every second of it.

"I want more," you whine at some point.

Joel was so lost appreciating the view of your chest painted red that he missed when you whispered his name the first couple of times.

He checks it—buries his fingers up until his knuckles, massages the spots inside of you that make you curl your toes and pull your knees up higher.

"Please," you beg.

He likes the sound of it, but he'll leave that for later.

The third finger is easier than the second—Joel feels how slick you are. He knows water bodies are not the best places for penetration, but he values your comfort more than anything right now, and in here you're both warm. At ease.

When his name starts falling from your lips like a song, Joel knows it's coming.

His other hand keeps traveling through your body—grabbing at your neck, pinching the hardened nipples of your gorgeous tits, palming through your stomach.

If his lips left your skin for longer than a minute, Joel thinks it's too much. "Yeah, yeah, I know, darlin', it's climbing up, isn't it?" he thinks addiction can be so easy. Your whines are necessary now for him, no matter what. "I wanna see it so badly." His voice had never been this low. Hoarse like sandpaper, and so filled with lust. "You're all ready for me now, d'you feel it?"

All three fingers are buried until the knuckles. Scissoring them open, pumping them against your walls in search of that spot inside you that makes you shake—Joel can barely breathe.

"D'you want more than this? Hm? 'Cause I'm in heaven, darlin'," he tells you. "All I need is to see you let go now. I can't believe I'll be the lucky fucker that gets to see you fall apart."

"Joel, I want more—want all of it, please, please—"

"I'll give it to you, I will." He'd give you anything. "You can have anything you ask me, anythin'."

"Harder—please, please, please—oh! Fuck, like that, like that, Joel."

"You sound so good moaning my name I'm gonna fuckin' lose my mind," he growls. "Do it. Cum on my fingers. Cum for me."

Joel marveled with every shake of your body. He closed his eyes and kissed the part of yours that was the closest. Your legs clamped shut around his hand, thighs shaking. At least this time, you remembered to muffle your sounds on him.

In his neck, you bit down the whispers of his name. Whimpers. Ohs,

He waited for the impossible grip to ease before he thumbed a grazing touch over your clit—just to check; to feel.

"Want more," you kissed his neck, and there was no need for all that honey in your voice, really.

Joel drank it, anyway. Licked it clean from your lips, and drowned in the way you and the water seemed to wrap him in.

"We gotta get outta the water, baby," says Joel. "'s not a good idea we do it in here."

You stopped kissing his neck, your hips stopped their motion and the little look around you at the room makes Joel's stomach feel funny. He feels almost suffocated with this need to kiss all over the red on your face.

"Uhm—are we... here?"

Joel never thought he'd live to see the day you would avoid the word 'fuck', but he smiled at it. "No, darlin', we should get dry. Put our clothes on. We can finish this in the room, right?"

You lick your lips, and then his. You bite his bottom lip, sucking it into yours, and Joel is fucked.

He melts, too. All over you, on your fingertips caressing his cheeks, on your chest pressing against his, and on the depths of your eyes as you stare deeply into his.

"'kay," you whisper. "Let's go."

Joel helps you out and loves to watch the way you gravitate toward him. When you whisper, "Do we have to put on our clothes?"

He wraps you in the towel instead of answering, and pulls you to his chest again. "Body warmth, remember?" Just for good measure, he puts the other one around him, collects all the clean clothes you had bought, and then looks at you.

"Hop on," he nudges your waist with his hands, and you get exactly what he means; your legs wrap around his middle and your arms stay firm around his neck. Joel holds you with a satisfied grunt, "atta girl."

The warmth of all of this has a price.

Joel knows it as he walks you to the room you two share, as he closes the door behind you both, as he lays your bodies on the joined mattresses, and pulls the winter blanket over your bodies.

It'd be more than a steep price.

Something on the figures of what he signed off when he took the job from Marlene—when he took Ellie out of her fingers.

Those dotted lines he signed with a blind eye. Unaware of what he was agreeing to until he Ellie's life faced danger and all the moments of every single awful joke she told, her smart jabs and the braveness in her bones to risk her life for him came back like a slap to the face, and Joel was crushed under the enormous weight of it all.

He accepted it, even if he still couldn't say it.

With you, it was almost the same.

He signed the dotted lines when he came back for you.

He couldn't know, wouldn't dream of knowing what he had signed up for until the time he ordered you to keep close and you answered with: "Always. El, you know it—between us."

Seven words, and Joel thought of nothing else for days.

Always.

For months, you never left his side.

Abided by his temper, shortness, curt words.

Spoke through his darkness and whiskey, reaching out to him the same way you did with Ellie—pulling from deep within the part of him that was still alive. Truly human.

When Joel touches all of you covered under a blanket, he wills his eyes to stay shut because if he opens them, they'll sting.

He feels too much, and it's never enough. The taste of your skin is sewn along with lines of fear, the acidic and familiar taste of I can't do it. I can't lose this. I can't lose you.

He kisses every inch.

Joel licks his name out off your lips every time they come out.

He nuzzles his face like an animal trying to imprint scent all over—from your neck all the way down to the inside of your thighs you'll have beard burns and it's okay, because you ask for them.

In the quiet, you two say so much.

Joel asked you, "you gotta keep quiet, baby, we can't be loud," and you listened, because you're so good. He says it, too. "So good, baby... you're so good," and listens to you reply with,

"You're so good, Joel. So good."

He soaks it all up until it's all mixed in his veins.

The price of hearing your sinful whisper in his ear is high. "Need you inside me," you brand in his skin. "Please, Joel?"

Joel would close his eyes and see those words—he wants to burn them behind his eyelids since they're so loud they erase everything else from his brain for a while.

He fingers you some more to double-check if you're ready and he has to talk, because, "You're so fuckin' wet, darlin', my god," he whispers in your ear, and your nails clawing at his back, digging into his skin tell him to hurry. "All this for me?"

"Please stop torturin' me," you whisper back, sounding like you're about to cry.

It's torture for both of you, so Joel lines up. He teases you with his cock, gliding his shaft between your lips, coating it in the slick that's dripping down your legs, and whispers, "You want it?"

"Joel," you growl at him.

Joel pushes in with a smile on his face and has his face scrunched in a silent smile when he slips inside. It's a tight fit at first, and Joel has to stop midway. He has to breathe.

"'m gonna go slow, 'kay?" He does. He pulls almost all the way out, and slowly pushes in again, feeling you tense around him, "Breathe, baby, you gotta breathe for me."

"Joel," you whisper. Around his cock, your cunt pulses, and he curses under his breath. You bury your whole face in his face and moan. "s big," you moan. "Feels so good."

He's only a man, you see—Joel's hands are supporting his weight on each side of your face, and they tremble.

He has to drop to his forearms and elbows, caging your body underneath his. "Breathe really deep for me, baby," he whispers, and you do it. "Close your eyes now, and relax."

The price of having you all to himself is one Joel never could afford, but one he'll spend each day of his life doing everything in his possession to pay.

His whole body shakes as you open up for him. It's a blossoming—Joel feels it around his cock the moment your body relaxes and you feel it.

Your legs wrap around him tighter.

"Move," you whisper.

So he does.

He's deeply in debt.

Joel gets lost in the feeling of how warm and tight you are around his cock, and it makes him drunk. It makes him feel like you're wrapped all around him, and Joel never fucked like this.

He could've gone a century without sex and he would remember;

Nothing felt like this.

No desire or lust or bodies aligning ever made him move this slowly, with this much pace; Joel's back must become a mural of claws being sharpened by the time you beg him to go faster, to push harder.

"'m not gonna break Joel, for fuck's sake, please," you beg as he kisses your lips and fucks you leisurely, and it registers.

Through the thick fog of everything that this is, he listens to it, and he gives it to you.

Joel has no idea how he lasts this long.

When you cum for him, it's not even because he's fucking you. He's more like imprinting the memory of your velvety touch all around him, pushing deep and hard as he caresses the sweat off your face, and he's telling you all that his lust-drunken mind is thinking off.

"Didn't think—could feel this good, darlin'." His pauses are his thrusts, and he wonders if you're listening to any of it, or is just lost on the sound of his voice. He knows you like it. "You like—the sound of my voice—don't you, baby? I know you do." Thurst—and deep, and fuck, "I'm—so fuckin' lucky—look at you—look at how good—god, you're gonna kill me, baby—"

He dies a little death when he feels you start shaking.

All you.

His name spills from your lips and your nails dig in deeper than ever before, and that's what does it, what drops the pin and makes the ball of knotted tension that kept him high burst—Joel has only the notion to pull out before he cums, but he cums so hard that he loses sense of everything for a moment or two.

Your hands are soothing his face when he comes back to it.

Joel feels like a whole person for just those hours with you in the dark.

With you, he realized something—while Joel's skin may offer him little comfort, yours does.

The soothing peace that comes with feeling that again, comfort, makes Joel breathe out and close his eyes without his chest tied in one big knot for the first time since... it. He is alive. However that came to be, or why, he'll never know, but your words are a mantle of truth that can start bringing peace to his inner war of two continuous decades now—he can either keep living and burying everything: Existence, hopes, feelings, love, memories, her, her—Sarah;

or... he can live.

Joel wants to live. With Ellie, with you. He pulls you closer, and focuses one last second to hear the certain sound of Ellie's pencil furiously creating something on paper across the thin wall, and he sleeps.

📝 So. I gave the old man some love and some peace (that he deserves) because I watched him lose yet another person this Sunday and I was hurt. What did you guys think? :)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt comfort #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female character #joel miller imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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lila-went-missing · 3 months

Note

Can I have a whipped!Clarisse x sunshine!reader headcannons or one shot idk (could reader be either a Hecate daughter or just unspecified?) :3

Have a nice day/night

Ugh, I love Grumpy X Sunshine.

Clarisse x Sunshine!Reader Headcannons

Okay, literally no one expected you two to start dating.

Plot-twist of the century vibes.

You're so sweet and kind to everyone, offering your magical insight to anyone who asks you.

And she's so tough and brutal all the time, always picking fights with people over the smallest things.

Literal polar opposites, but opposites attract.

I feel like she would be pining over you from the moment you met.

Something about you drew her in. Maybe the way you carried yourself, maybe it was your natural talent for magic.

Either way, she's so whipped for you.

You have her wrapped around your finger without even trying.

I feel like she's the kind of person to practice what she's going to say to you before she actually asks you out.

I can just imagine her pacing around her cabin when no one is around whispering the script she made in preparation.

Because of her dad constantly ignoring her, and what little attention she does get being him telling her that she'll never be good enough, or never as good as her brothers, she has a MASSIVE fear of rejection.

That really plays a role in how she asks you out.

She'd literally be so nervous it's not even funny.

When she does eventually ask you out there is a lot of stuttering and stumbling over words.

You would probably be in your cabin, just finishing brewing a potion when she comes to you.

You can't help but laugh at how nervous she is, finding it rather adorable.

Obviously she gets really offended and tries to leave, telling you to forget she said anything in the first place.

You pull her back to you and kiss her.

"I wasn't laughing to make fun of you, I was laughing because you're cute."

From that moment on, her protectiveness SKYROCKETS.

Someone looks at you wrong? They're in the infirmary getting stitches.

Someone calls you a freak because of your mom being Hecate? She's lost dessert privileges for the next five months.

Eventually you do have to talk to her and tell her to tone it down.

But that just ends in y'all making out on her bed.

How is she supposed to be serious when her girlfriend is sitting there looking so pretty and perfect, and her lips are just so kissable.

SPEAKING OF, you can't tell me this girl isn't obsessed with kissing you.

Doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, she will kiss you at any point in time.

Lips, forehead, nose, cheek, neck, shoulder, you name it.

She could literally be about to break someones bones until you come up.

The mood switch is IMMEDIATE.

From "I will literally murder you." to "Oh hey baby, how was your day." and just kissing all over your face.

It gives everyone whiplash.

But they get used to it eventually.

She's just so in love with you.

You're literally the first person to ever show her what it's like to genuinely be loved and not just wanted as a weapon.

You're the first and only person she says "I love you" to.

You're especially the first person and only person she means it to.

It takes her a while to open up because she hates being perceived as weak or soft. After a while though, she will start coming to you with her problems.

She'll occasionally come to your cabin in the middle of the night after having a nightmare, usually about you dying.

She never wants to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her until she falls back asleep.

Everyone in both of your cabins comes to love y'all.

I like to think that Ares cabin is sworn to a mutual secrecy because almost all of them have someone they sneak in at night to cuddle.

But they all have a reputation to uphold no one talks about it.

If you think regular Clarisse likes to cuddle, Whipped!Clarisse is 10x worse.

She'll never admit it, but cuddling you is one of her favorite things ever.

Her guilty pleasure is laying on your chest or being the little spoon.

She just likes the feeling of being held by the only person she's ever loved.

This ended up being A LOT longer than expected. Sorry (not really) y'all, went on a tangent.

#dior goodjohn #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #x reader #percy series #clarisse is bae #clarisse pjo #percy jackson disney+#clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson show

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roguerogerss · 5 months

Text

The President; ‘Something Sweet.’

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT!!

(HEY! this is the second part to The President, part 3 will be out soon so plssss stay tuned, hope u luv it, luv you, bye) (requests r open! send me stuff here)

“Where did you go?"

Clemensia snatched your arm and stopped you in your place. You'd been trying to ignore all of the girls, weaving your way in and out of the crowd, accepting the odd congratulations or hug as you went, you thought you might find Tigris and stick by her until at least dinner time. You wanted nothing more than to be at home.

"Oh." You started but stopped short. If you even stuttered you knew she'd know, your legs were shaking and, if she looked at you closely, she'd be able to see that your hair wasn't nearly as smooth as it was an hour ago, and your lipstick had smudged over your chin and you'd spent longer than you should've trying to wipe it off. "Just had a few photos to be taken, Coryo wanted them out of the way."

Clemensia turned you to face her, gripping your forearms as she eyed you suspiciously. You held your breath a moment, she wasn't the type to keep her mouth shut. "Of course. Photos."

She was smirking at you, and you nearly hung your head in shame out of pure instinct. You teetered backwards slightly in your heels, and Clemensia barely stifled a laugh. "Did these photos involve you being bent over something?"

"Clemmie!" You burst out, hands clamping over your mouth, cheeks burning red. And then you couldn't help but laugh. "Don't say anything, please."

"I won't!" She laughed and took hold of your hand, starting to lead you back towards the rest of your school friends. “I didn’t say anything when you’d disappear for every free hour we had in school, did I?”

“Clemensia!”

Okay! I won’t say anything. Promise. It's your day, and Coryo's President now. I can’t say anything."

You laughed as you approached the other girls, Clemmie was your friend, as much as you hated to admit it, and you did actually like spending time with her, after you got over the initial idea of it. The other girls, however, were a different story.

"Where did you guys go?" Lysistrata whined when you rejoined the circle. She wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but, god, could she moan about anything. "Felix had an interview and they basically said that he actually would've won, had Doctor Gaul's vote not counted-"

"Well, her vote did count." Clemensia defended and sent you a small smile. "Why dwell on it, Lyssie?"

"Because it's unfair." Livia practically snarled, lip curled upwards like a growling dog. "Coriolanus will be president until he either steps down, or dies off. And we all know he won't step down, so none of us will even have a chance at it."

"You wouldn't have a chance at anything anyway, Livia. Festus is a slob." You snapped. You'd remembered why you so hated going to school, and then University with these girls. Livia especially always seemed to bring out the worst in you. You heard Clemensia sigh, and Lysistrata sucked in a breath to be held.

Livia looked as though she was about to lunge for you. "He is not a slob!" She threw her hands in the air and started to say something else, when Clemensia butted in, to avoid a public argument between two powerful men's wives.

"Ladies!" She held her arms out between the two of you in a calming manner, and you almost scoffed and walked away from them, but you knew you had to be here. For Coryo, you thought. "Let's just all be friends, okay? You managed it for seventeen years before today, you can certainly last another two hours."

"Oh, look!" Lysistrata pointed excitedly at the grand hall, drawing the attention of the conversation to something else entirely. "I think we've to go for dinner, now. Aren't you all excited? It'll be lovely."

You were definitely excited. The University provided three square meals a day, if you stayed long enough - you always did - but, since you'd graduated, it had been back to Tigris' cabbage soup and the occasional luxury like a loaf of bread or some beef mince, if Coriolanus helped Doctor Gaul with something she believed warranted an extra payout. The food was guaranteed to be something special, and, even better, you could leave your school friends behind for at least an hour and sit by Coryo instead.

An avox appeared by your small group, and gestured for you all to follow them, leading the gathering of wives to the dinner hall first. Clemensia, Livia, and Lysistrata were positioned at a table together, each one chair apart from the other, and you almost laughed out loud when Livia's scowl deepened further and Clemmie sighed disappointedly at her space between the other two.

After seating the three other women, the avox gestured for you to follow them even further, to a long, rectangular table overlooking a sea of smaller round ones. The hall really was magnificent, all marble and hardwood, a string quartet playing in the far corner, and Coriolanus' Grandma'am's roses decorating each table, in small glass vases. You smiled at the touch, assuming it was Tigris' doing, Coryo would love it.

"Thank you." You nodded to the avox as they tapped a chair for you to sit in. The table was laid with a white tablecloth and lace runner, and six plates, with dainty little place cards placed neatly atop them. The ones on either side of you read Tigris Snow and President Coriolanus Snow. You assumed the one next to Coryo would've been for the Grandma'am and the other two chairs for other government officials.

The room started to fill up with people, celebrities, guests, reporters, game makers. You tried to make out anyone familiar in the sea of people, but faces blurred into one another, distant chatter became almost deafening, and you found that, not only could you not decipher one person from another, but you'd given yourself a headache trying to do so.

The chair beside you pulled back, startling you from your squint-eyed staring, and then Tigris appeared, beaming and touching a hand to your shoulder. "He did it!" She cried and you embraced, squealing as you did so.

“I know.” You mused. “Did you do the roses?”

Tigris nodded, a satisfied smile crossing her face. “Yes, do you like them? I thought it’d be nice, something familiar.”

“They’re beautiful, he’ll love them.” You plucked one of the stems from the vase in front of you, inspecting the perfect flower, so familiar. You’d always loved the Grandma’am’s roses, almost as much as Coryo did.

You were only able to talk for a moment, Tigris complimenting the way you'd done his hair, you gushing over his suit. You loved Tigris, really. But the national anthem began playing, and then there were cameras on you both and you tried to remember to sit up straight and keep your chin down.

The entire room erupted into cheers and claps and cries as Coriolanus entered, looking dazzling as ever. You even noticed Livia giving a hand, which sent a sense of satisfaction through you. "There he is! Our brand new President, it's Coriolanus Snow!" Lucky Flickerman had appeared out of nowhere again, and you could just hear him over the sound of the crowd. "And he's making his way over to his gorgeous first lady! I heard they've only been married three days."

You stifled a laugh at Lucky's overly dramatic performance, and then you felt almost self conscious, seeing all of the people looking towards you, the cameras pointed in your direction. Tigris touched a gentle hand to your arm to soothe you, and you just about managed a grin as Coryo approached.

He sat down next to you and you found his hand placed on the small of your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles just beside your spine. You let out a sigh of relief and smiled until the cameras turned away and the starting course of the meal served. "That was good, darling." Coryo spoke quietly. "Are you okay? You seem nervous."

"I am nervous." You turned toward him and placed a hand on his knee. "I'll get over it, though. First day jitters."

"Of course you will." And then he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hand creeping up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. "What do you think I could do to calm you down, hm?"

"Coryo." You hid a small smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. "People are watching."

"All the more fun." You turned to face him, noticing the half-concealed grin playing on his lips. Your eyes flickered out towards the crowd and cameras, guests were all chattering and eating, but the cameras stayed put, and Lucky continued his constant commentary of you. You imagined him, broadcasting to the entirety of Panem, that the brand new President was fingering his wife at the dinner table.

Coryo's hand wandered up even further, underneath your skirt, into your underwear. You sucked in a breath and made a sort of uncomfortable grunt, biting back a whine as two familiar fingers pressed into you. You gripped onto the tablecloth and Tigris turned to you, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked and you nodded, too enthusiastically.

"I'm okay." You answered, but you knew your face wasn't communicating what you said, and Tigris' hand was pressed to your forehead before you could tell her again.

"You're hot, have you drank enough water today? And you're flushed, too-" Tigris was in the middle of pouring some water into the glass in front of you when Coryo cut in.

"She's okay, Tigris." He smiled at his cousin. "Wasn't feeling too well last night, were you, love?"

You shook your head, trying to act convincing while Coriolanus' fingers continued their assault inside of you. "Oh, honey! Well, get some rest tonight, okay?"

And then Tigris had turned back to her conversation with the Grandma'am, and you made a mental note to continue the narrative that you were sick, at least in front of Tigris. And then you noticed that Lucky was staring right at the two of you, massive grin on his face, as always, and the camera beside him was fixated on your table.

"Coryo, the cameras!" You hissed, but he silenced you, curling his fingers against your sensitive spot. You made another strangled sound, but Tigris didn't turn around this time, too invested in conversation with the Grandma'am.

"Shh," Coryo comforted you, nuzzling his forehead against your cheek in a way that could've been mistaken for a loving gesture for the cameras. "Let them see, honey. Just be quiet for me. My good girl."

He curled his fingers faster inside of you, so that you had to clamp your hand on your thigh to stop your legs from shaking aggressively, every now and again he'd lean down and say something like, "You're doing so well." or "So good for me." and your head would spin.

"Coryo," You whispered, a breathy moan falling from your lips, almost loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. "I'm getting close, you know how loud I get."

Dessert was being served, now, and you were almost glad that the avoxes didn't have tongues, because you were certain that the one placing your lemon tart in front of you had made a strange face whilst doing so.

Coryo's fingers brushed your sensitive spot once again, and you felt his hand on your back as it arched off of the chair, dimming the appearance of your arousal to the public. "I know. Not going to let you finish, not yet."

He pressed a short kiss to your temple and then pulled his fingers out of you, at which you huffed and pouted, he felt his cock throb, seeing you looking so bratty.

"Coryo!" You whined, bottom lip still jutting out. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" He asked, smirk playing on his face. He made you watch as he looked you straight in the eye, lifted his fingers to his lips - still glistening with your slick - and sucked them clean. "Mmh, so sweet, my girl. Now, I want you to go home, familiarise yourself with the mansion - you'll love it, by the way - and wait for me to get there. No touching yourself, you know the punishment for that."

A small smile grew on your face as you nodded. Coryo kissed your face, picked up your dessert fork and handed it to you, gesturing to the food in front of you. As you took your first bite, he slid his own across to the Senator sat next to him. The larger man looked at him with confusion in his eyes.

"You can take mine, already had something sweet."

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow #president snow #rogue writes

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heartsforsserafim · 7 months

Note

mean g!p wony...

Take It

pairing ; wonyoung x fem!reader

genre ; smut

tw ; degrading, gp!wonyoung, teasing, crying, blowjob, cum on face, cum eating, unprotected sex, idol!wonyoung, non-idol!reader, sorta public sex, bathroom sex, jealous sex, dom!wonyoung, bottom!reader, cockwarming (kind of), edging

an : i tried actually-

You were waiting inside your girlfriend's makeup room, for her performance to be over. You loved to surprise her each time after an promotional period, but today she didn't expect what you had one.

Walking into the dressing room and celebrating with the staff and fellow members, "Hey y/n!!" yujin said picking you up and twirling you around. Each time you visited the other girls really never got to hang with you since well, wonyoung would take you and they wouldn't see you two for a while.

Wonyoung turned around, and her eyes automatically landed onto your clothes. (For a thought, you were dressed similar to ryujin in the loco studio choom video). After yujin finished spinning you, rei and liz ran up to you and began talking to you. gaeul and leeseo stayed behind you too, also filling you in on everything.

Wonyoung felt, strange. She didn't like when her members took all of your attention, i mean of course you're her girlfriend and those are her bandmates you guys are going to get close but god did she hate when you wouldn't even speak a simple word to her while you're with them.

And really in your defense, you have five girls on you at once, all of them possibly talking about different topics so you really couldn't talk to wonyoung if you tried. She was honestly pissed off at this point, her face wasn't even the same anymore. She was hoping after taking some pictures they'd be done.

"Guys! Can you leave Y/n alone?" Wonyoung said, obviously irritated. liz rei and leeseo walked off, but gaeul and yujin stayed. Wonyoung sighed again, rolling her eyes. After a while, those two finally left your side, finally leaving wonyoung with you.

Automatically, she placed you onto her lap, "Hi baby" you say in a sweet voice and kiss her cheek. "Don't baby me." wonyoung spoke, staring daggers into your eyes. She grabbed your face, holding your cheeks in a firm grip.

You knew where this was leading, "B-babe" you say, tears were threatening to fall but you couldn't yell out it'd alert someone. Wonyoung wasn't trying to hurt you on purpose, it was the new thing you two were trying.

"Shut the fuck up." She grabbed your hips and placed you over her shoulder before walking into the bathroom. Of course, you knew where this'll lead. Wonyoung hasn't been able to release any of her stress in any form, it's been promotion after promotion plus her magazine shoots ect.

But today, she was going to use you to get off. Whether you liked it or not.

(...)

"On your knees" wonyoung said, beginning to remove the pants she wore, you stood there, shocked. You didn't expect her to actually want you to do this in the bathroom, right? "You fucking heard me, on your knees before i force you down" she said, her boxers now removed.

Her cock stood tall directly against her abdomen, god did she look so attractive. Her abs were so defined, you were so stuck in a daze you didn't realize wonyoung had already grabbed you and forced you onto your knees.

She slapped you, so you could focus up once more. Grabbing her cock into your hands, you stroked her shaft a bit. It twitched in your hands, and she'd let out small sounds. You would occasionally play with her tip before going back down and continuing your movements.

A while passed before you finally put her inside of your mouth, "Ah~" she let out a soft, yet blissful, moan. God did your panties pool once you heard her. You were looking up at her, while you sucked her off. Her eyes were hooded, bringing one of her hands up to your hair, she made a ponytail with it.

Prompting you to grip her thighs, and open your mouth wider, allowing her shaft to slide easily along your tongue. She began thrusting into your mouth, her cock hitting the back of your throat felt so amazing. Using both her hands, she forced her shaft deep inside your throat.

Your nose touching her abs, she didn't move until you began squeezing her thighs, your eyes welling with tears. She pulled out, a string of saliva connected her tip and your mouth.

Your face was so flushed, and you couldn't think. Wonyoung stood you up before bending you over on the bathroom sink. She lifted your skirt, moving your panties before sliding her shaft it.

God she was so big, you wanted to scream her name out but you couldn't. A knock came at the door, "Hey wony, dives are asking for you we're not rushing but hurry out!" Yujin spoke from behind the door, wonyoung halted her hips.

She was thinking should she leave you a dripping mess for a few minutes with the fans? You couldn't bear waiting any longer and pushed back against her cock, making her enter you fully. "f-fuckk" you moaned out.

She didn't move yet, and god was it fucking up your mind. Every single detail on her cock, you felt deep inside of you. She was touching your cervix for fucks sake.

She began slowly, her thrusts were so deep, you whimpered while she fucked you. Grinding your hips back against her, she grabbed them and halted your movements.

"W-why~?" you asked, looking at her through the mirror. "Just look at me, make me proud, okay?" She spoke, you nodded watching as she used your hips to roll along with her thrust.

Speeding up, she placed her hand inside of your shirt and began playing with your breast through your bra. "I-i'm gonna- mm- c-cum" you moaned out.

The way wonyoung's cock felt inside of you felt amazing. Closing your eyes for a second to keep yourself from screaming she stopped moving..

"P-please" you begged. She chuckled, before continuing, this time rubbing your clit and making you scream out. You tried your best to stay quiet but she whispered into your ear. "Let them know how good you feel baby"

She continued fucking you, this time going impossibly faster and you felt your orgasm coming. Your walls tightened around her shaft, your legs began to shake and your eyes rolled back. You came with a string of moans, while wonyoung slowed down.

Once you were done going through your afterglow, you immediately got back onto your knees and began sucking wonyoung off. Already deepthroating her so she'll cum. Grabbing your head she began fucking your throat, saying things like, "Fuck baby you're so good" and "just like that~ ah"

She pulled out, cumming on your face. She continued to stroke her cock until her entire load was covering your face and clothes. You looked up at her, taking some of her cum off of your face and licked it off of your fingers.

She watched as you did so, her cock softened as she began putting her clothes on. Cleaning you up before you both walked out of the bathroom, meeting the eyes of her manager and the fellow members. You two knowing you guys were fucked, it was worth it.

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #ive smut #ive wonyoung #jang wonyoung #wonyoung

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good-griief · 1 year

Text

already decided

i just had a lil thought ab protective!ellie, so in love w her gf she'd do anything to keep her safe

Ellie’s temper was as short as she was. She couldn’t manage it for the life of her, and when it came to you, she didn’t even try.

“Are you some kind of fucking moron?!” She’d yelled at Jesse one day when you came back from patrol with a nasty scratch on your arm.

“I fell—“

“Should’ve fucking caught her, Jesse—“

“Are you fucking insane?” He’d asked, earning a cartoonish shrug in response. “Broaden your vocabulary, Ellie.”

She then went on to say ‘fuck’ as many times as she could before Jesse walked away.

If you didn’t shut her up, she’d probably end up flying off the handle— though, you couldn’t say those rare occasions were undeserved. When they were serious, there was always a reason; like when Maria spooked your horse and you fell off, the animal nearly breaking your arm before Ellie grabbed the reins. Or when you weren’t on full alert during a patrol, nearly got swarmed, and she had to get you out of the situation.

There was always a reason any time she went overboard, but tonight was different; she never got this way.

There was a guy bothering you at the bar, continuously getting drinks and trying to talk to you despite you rejecting his advances. He was new, so you didn’t want to be harsh, but Ellie didn’t care about that at all.

“Hey, can you back the fuck up off my girlfriend?” She asked, overly sweet, as she walked over to him, smiling despite how pissed off she was. You'd told her how uncomfortable you were after she came back from the bathroom, the man getting more bold with her gone and nearly making you want to follow after her or find Joel and Tommy. “She’s very clearly not fucking interested.”

You didn’t know what led to what you could hear next, as Ellie had been keeping quiet, making sure not to make a scene even if she knew how uncomfortable you were. That failed, though, when she punched the man square in the jaw, knocking his head into the bar and making him fall out of his barstool. “Fucking asshole!” Was all you heard when your head snapped over to her. She hit him again when he spat something at her, blood mixed in with snarled words that made her ram her fist into his eye socket so hard that she broke skin. “She’s not fucking interested. Got that?! Fucking creep. I fucking better not see you around her again, you fucking—!”

“Ellie!” Thankfully, Joel got to her before she could do anything more than knock him out, grabbing Ellie as you got up and rushed over while Joel dragged her out of the bar.

“Did you hear what the fuck he said?!” Her gaze snapped to you when you opened the door and came out to meet them. Her angered expression, sewn together brows, flared nostrils, and sneered lips puffing harsh breaths of air, fell to concern immediately. “Did you?” You looked between them, frowning. “Did you hear what he said?”

“No, but are you—?“

“Good.” The sneer on her lip as she shook out her fist made you refrain from asking her what he said that caused her to react like that, taking her hand to look at her already bruising knuckles. “Should’ve fucking killed him. Fuck.”

“You want me to talk to Maria, El?” Joel asked, placing a hand on both your shoulders and squeezing. He knew how much you hated this, as it made you more anxious than anything, but he also knew Ellie was completely serious about killing the guy after hearing what he’d said, and he had no objection to it.

“Yeah,” she huffed out, a sick smile on her face. “Send him over to the fucking raiders.” She continued to curse under her breath despite being one-hundred-percent serious. “Joel, did you hear him?” She asked again, looking at him in search of reassurance for her reaction.

“Yeah…” He sighed, looking at you briefly before looking back to Ellie. “Yeah, babygirl, I heard him. I’ll see what I can do, alright?” He rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to get her to calm down, but it was no use.

“What a fucking pig,” she was still going on, clutching your hands in her bruising one.

Joel nodded toward the street, and you quickly got the memo. “Why don’t we get home, El?” You suggested, squeezing her hand to get her attention. She hummed, bringing the back of your hand to her mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You hadn’t tried to calm her down that time, not knowing what to say with the way she was still gripping your hands and staring at the ground.

Eventually, she spoke up. “I really tried not to make a scene,” she said. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, or scared you, or—“

“It’s fine, Els.”

“I’d explain, but I’d have to repeat what he said, and I don’t ever want to hear that shit again… Fucking disgusting.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Seriously. Sorry anyone would ever fucking say something like that… Fuck’s sake.”

You walked in silence for a while, gently stroking the back of her palm as she lifted her gaze from the ground to your hands cupping hers, which would probably be trembling if it weren't for you holding it.

“I’ve never seen you so serious about…” you spoke up after a moment, still not even knowing how to communicate with her like this. “You know, when you’re yelling at Jesse about patrol, it’s usually half joking, or something, but… You seriously looked like you were gonna kill him.”

“Should’ve.”

She was still gripping your hand when you got home, unlocking the door and holding it open for her.

As soon as she was in the safety of your home, her face started to turn red. She brought the heels of her palms to her eyes as she sucked in a harsh breath, cursing at herself for how upset she was getting.

“Should I get you tea or something?” She’d never been so angry that she started crying, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. You had half a mind to go get Joel again. “What do you need from me?”

She sighed, putting her hands down. Her face was still red, but she was refusing to let herself get worked up again. “Can we go to bed?” She asked quietly, gaining a quick nod from you. You held out your hand for her. She went to take it, but quickly stopped herself. “I need to wash my hands.”

“Okay…” You nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll set out some clothes for you, yeah?” She nodded, lips pursed. You leaned in, kissing her cheek and gaining a nearly unnoticable smile before you went your separate ways.

You changed into one of her shirts and underwear before you got into bed and waited. It must’ve been a half hour before she came back, looking much calmer than she did before. She changed into the shirt and boxers you set out for her, keeping quiet as she got into bed and lied behind you with her head resting on your shoulder.

“Feel better?” You asked. She only hummed, bringing her hand to your hip and running it up your waist. “El, what did he—?“

“I love you,” she said quietly, shaking her head and kissing your shoulder. “I’d do fucking… anything for you. You know that?” Her hand slipped beneath your shirt, running over your stomach and making you understand that she'd never repeat those words. Even if they were still running through her mind. “I won’t let anyone touch you. Fucking ever.” Her touch was soft despite her words, tone uninviting for argument. “If anyone ever lays a hand on you, you tell me. I’ll fucking kill them—“

“Ellie,” you warned, turning toward her and lying on your back.

You tried to be stern in an attempt to help ground her, as that was the only thing that would make her relax, but her words were earnest, coming out far too easily.

She shook her head, and when you looked up at her, you could tell that she was completely calm. She'd already decided that she should've killed that man, and you had half a mind to think she was so upset earlier because she didn't get to.

“If anyone even looks at you wrong…” She muttered as she hovered over you, forearms resting on either side of your head to hold herself up as her fingers ran softly over your hair. “If that’s really how people think, then I don’t care—“

“What did he say, El? Why did it get you so worked up?” Your hands went to her shoulders, gently rubbing her back to soothe her.

She shook her head, bringing her hand to your cheek and running the backs of her fingers down your skin. “Nothing you should have to hear…” She moved to straddle you, sitting back on your thighs as she lowered her head to your neck. “Just know…” She kissed you softly. “If I ever see him again…” Her kisses were loving, soft lips grazing your skin as she tucked her head in the crook of your neck. “He’s fucking dead.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #the last of us ellie #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams ff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams angst

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eternalsams · 8 months

Text

Story Of My Life ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x gf!reader

content/warnings: implied sex, fear of abandonment, unexpected pregnancy, angst, mention of breakup, discussion of abortion (I won't tolerate any hate messages about it), mention of a parent's death

summary: Jake panics when you start pulling away from him and he feels like he's destined to end up alone.

words count: 2.3k

notes: English isn't my mother tongue so please take that into consideration.

masterlist

"Honey, I'm home!" Jake called as he passed the front door with a smirk stretching his lips. But only the silence answered him in the apartment. To your defense, he was home early and he didn't text you or call you to tell you. He wanted to surprise you. The smile on his lips fell and he slightly frowned as he dropped his duffle bag at the foot of the coat rack. He opened his flight suit he still had on and step out of his shoes as he did everyday. But usually you would greet him with a kiss and little talks. He'd seen your car in the parking lot so he knew you were home. Maybe you were in the shower? His usual cocky smirk reappeared on his face as he imagined surprising you by joining you behind the shower curtains. Now, that would be a greeting! "Baby?" He called again as he awkwardly rid himself of his flight suit and his socks, only staying in his briefs and his sweat-wet shirt. The fresh air of the AC bringing goosebumps to his exposed skin, he got closer to your shared bedroom but stopped in his tracks when he met the closed door. You never closed the bedroom door.

He was about to open it when he heard your voice, you were probably on the phone. "I can't keep doing this anymore, I need to tell him. And the sooner the better." Jake tried not to think too hard on what you said but your words couldn't leave his mind, trying to find an explanation and a context to what you were saying. So he just decided to knock and wait for you to invite him in. Your voice shut down and for a second, Jake could only hear the beating of his heart. "Baby? You in here?" He softly asked, knowing you were there. He could hear you hanging up the phone and walk around the room. "Yeah, I'm here! Sorry I didn't hear you coming home, I was on the phone." You quickly said, running around the room to hide everything before Jake could see it. "Can I come in?" You heard his voice and saw the doorknob going down. You rapidly kicked the last thing under your bed just in time as Jake opened the door and his face appeared in the opening. You chuckled when you saw his hand hiding his eyes. "I'm decent, Jake." You laughed and opened completely the door to wrap your arms around him and peck his lips. You frowned when you saw how undressed he was and pointed at his boxer briefs. "I thought you were in the shower and wanted to surprise you." He slightly winced, noticing how weird it seemed now. You chuckled once more and slid your hands under the hem of his shirt, your fingers gently grazing his skin.

"What was that?" He then asked, his hands secured behind your neck and tilting your face back to maintain an eye contact. "What was what?" You frowned, hoping he didn't notice what you just hid under your shared bed. "The closed door. We never close doors in this house and you know it." He teased with a smirk as he rubbed small circles under your ears with his thumbs. "I know, sorry. My mom is having some relationship issues with her boyfriend and she asked me some advice." You couldn't believe how such a good lie came out of your mouth that quickly, but you wouldn't take it back now. "Of course, she'd need your advice, you're the best girlfriend in the world." He smiled at you, hoping that those words would help with whatever he heard sooner. He couldn't help but think that you hid something from him and from what he heard, it wasn't good. So he hoped that he could keep you in love with him with sweet praises. "You're such a flirt!" You chuckled and pulled away before grabbing a pair of sweats in the closet and throwing it to Jake. "Get dressed, I'm gonna order take out and go shower. I don't think that poor delivery guy wants to see your junk." He tried to hide a smile as he put on the sweats and watched you tap on your phone to order your favorite food. "Can't I join you in the shower?" He asked, getting closer to you but you put your hand on his chest without even looking up at him. "We both know we'll never get out of it before the delivery guy gets here. So, no." He watched you walk in the bathroom and close the door behind you without giving him a single glance. He sighed and threw his head back before joining the kitchen and grabbing a drink to move on from your cold behavior.

Anybody with common sense would not notice the difference and would even call Jake needy and capricious. But he knew you by heart and he knew something was off tonight. You closed the door, when he asked what the phone call was about, you lied. He didn't want to ask you more about it if you didn't want to talk about it but he knew you lied. It wasn't about your mom and her relationship issues. It was about you and him. And then you only pecked his lips instead of dragging him into the shower with you as you would usually do. You wouldn't care if the delivery man knocks at the door and Jake would have to go answer half naked. But tonight, you minded. No. You didn't mind. You just didn't want Jake with you. I can't keep doing this anymore. What if you couldn't stay with him anymore? Jake rubbed his face to clear his mind and poured himself another drink he sipped in one go. He then thought about the ring he kept in his locker, only waiting to find your finger. Would he have to return it? Jake cleared his throat and licked his lips before rinsing his glass and putting back the scotch bottle in the cabinet. He then heard knocks at the door and frowned. How long has he been deep in his thoughts? He went to answer the door and thanked the delivery guy, not without giving him some tip. He put the bag on the kitchen island and as he was about to take out the food, he heard a loud thud coming from the bathroom.

He immediately forgot about the food and rushed to the bedroom. "Baby? You're okay? What happened?" He asked, his ear resting on the door, trying to hear anything through the wood. When you didn't answer, he tried to open the door but it was locked. He frowned. You never locked the bathroom door. He knocked at the door, trying to get an answer from you. "Baby, please answer me. Just tell me you're okay in there." He tried to open the door once again but it was still locked. "I'm okay." He could hear the weakness in your voice and it reminded him of the time he caught you crying in the bathroom after your father's funeral. You were definitely crying. "No, you're not okay. Please let me in, and we'll talk." He begged, feeling like he had to save this relationship as soon as possible. Were you crying because you didn't love him anymore? Because it was too hard to live with him? He kept his hand on the door handle, ready to push it open when you would unlock it. But you didn't. "I'm fine, Jake. I promise. Just..just go back to the kitchen, I'll join you when I'm done." He shook his head as if you could see him. "I'm not leaving you like this. I know you're crying and..." And what? He didn't even know why you were crying. "Please let me in, baby. We'll talk and we'll be okay. I promise you, whatever it is. I'll do whatever you want if it means you'll be happy. I..I love you, I'm not... I'm not trying to hold you down, I promise. If you need space, I'll give you space." He stopped talking when he heard the door getting unlocked. You then opened it and there you were.

Jake softly smiled because even with your red puffy eyes and your wet cheeks, you were still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. "You're not holding me down, Jake." You simply said, frowning. "Please don't close any more doors, I can't handle it. I don't want you to cry on the bathroom floor. If you need to cry, I want you to come to me and tell me everything I do wrong so I can make it better. Please don't lock me out." He looked at you as if you could disappear at any second. He reached out a hand to you and you took it before throwing yourself in his arms and crying some more. It broke his heart to hear your sobs but he said nothing more, only rubbing the back of your head and planting kisses in your hair. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me the truth this time, your mom's boyfriend is not the one making you cry and I know it." He tried to joke and it earned him a chuckle, warming up his breaking heart. You pulled away and he kept his arms around you, not wanting you to get too far from him. "I'm pregnant." You said, looking at him straight in the eyes. Jake almost stopped breathing, staring at you in shock. He really didn't expect that. "I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean it to happen. You have to believe me, and I was so scared to tell you. We've only been dating for 10 months and we just moved in together. I know it's really not a good time right now and I don't have anything against abortion if that's what you want."

"You're pregnant?" He asked in a weak voice, your words only hitting him now. You nervously chuckled and grabbed his hands before walking to your bed. "I am. I went to the hospital a few days ago and I just received the results this morning." You bent down and grabbed the folded sheet of paper from under your bed before giving it to him. He took it in his hand but didn't look at it, his eyes still locked into yours. He didn't need some papers from the hospital to confirm anything, he trusted you. "You're pregnant with my child. How far along?" He asked you. "Seven weeks." You shrugged and Jake tried to remember how could that have happened. Then it hit him. "The barbeque at Penny's." He closed his eyes, remembering how needy you both were after spending the whole evening teasing each other at the pool. "I guess it was too much for the pill to stop it from happening." You chuckled, hoping to get a good reaction from Jake. He laughed and dropped the sheet of paper as he brought his hands up to his face. A soft smile stretched your lips, a sense of relief washing over you hearing his laughter. "You're not mad at me?" You sighed, drawing his attention on you. He calmed his laughter and looked at you, seeming to look for his next words. "Why would I be mad at you exactly? For getting pregnant accidently? May I recall you I was there too that night! I was the one who came-" You didn't let him finish his sentence as you slapped your hand on his mouth, preventing him to say more.

"I was scared you'd be mad I didn't tell you sooner. We're in a relationship, I should've told you the exact day I woke up to throw up or when I peed on that stick to see those two pink lines. I'm sorry I kept it from you that long." You admitted, trying to forget how nervous and anxious you were that day. "When was that?" He asked calmly, taking you by the shoulders. "Two weeks ago. After I took the first test, I bought three more but I still couldn't believe it so I went to the hospital to get my blood tested. And here we are. They told me I still had six weeks to decide if I want to keep it. But I couldn't make a choice without telling you and-" You started rambling, your voice getting higher and your mouth vomiting the words. "And you were scared to tell me. I get it." He rubbed your shoulders to comfort you and you took a deep breath, relaxing and closing your eyes. "Do you want to have that baby?" He asked softly after a moment, making you look at him. "Do you?" You asked back. "It's not about me, Honey. Your body, your choice. Whatever you decide I won't leave you, even if you think we're moving too fast. I'm not leaving you." He enunciated those last words slowly for them to sink in. You looked at him deeply and looked down at your holding hands. "I wanna have that baby with you." You looked back up at him and smiled softly. A grin stretched his lips and illuminated his face. "We're having a baby?" He asked excitedly. "We're having a baby!" You answered with the same excitement. He grabbed you by the shoulders and drew you in for a hug. "I was so scared you were gonna break up with me." He sighed in your neck. "What?" You barely heard him but what you understood made no sense to you. "Nothing. I love you." He closed his eyes and breathed in your perfume, feeling home.

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afewproblems · 1 year

Text

Give me Steve, Eddie, and Robin at a bar on a Friday night.

They've had a few drinks, and a shot or two when a song comes on, and Steve immediately jumps to his feet with an, "Oh shit!!"

It's Madonna's Get Into the Groove and for a moment Robin and Eddie think Steve is in pain, that he hates the song as is going to ask the DJ to change it.

Except Steve waltzes onto the dance floor, right into the center.

There aren't too many others dancing, it's early still, barely nine in the evening but the spot lights are on and the DJ flicks on the multicolor strobe as Steve parks himself on the dance floor.

Robin laughs and wishes she had brought the disposable camera instead of leaving it in her junk drawer at home.

Eddie meanwhile rolls his eyes, and pretends not to notice the tightness of Steve's jeans or how the light catches the flecks of gold in his hair and eyes.

He's been attempting to hide his pathetic little crush for awhile now, complaining to Robin every chance he gets when Steve does something particularly charming or handsome.

She tells him, as sagely as she can muster, to grow a pair and do something about it already.

But how can he, Steve was, well, Steve...lovely caring, hot as hell, Steve.

What chance did Eddie have?

So he sits there, miserable, nursing his beer, letting his eyes trail after Steve while Robin giggles beside him.

They've never seen him dance, it's bar, they're drunk, the worst that could happen is he makes an ass out of himself and they all go home with a great new story to tell the party later.

God Robin really wishes she brought her camera with her.

But then Steve is moving and he's fluid, never missing a beat. It's some kind of choreography, intentional and practiced movements that wouldn't be out of place in a music video. Eddie and Robin look at each other because, what the fuck, where did this come from??

And people are cheering and whooping, strangers scattered here and there sitting off of the dance floor. There's a sense of comradery, like they're all witness to something and being allowed to share and indulge in this little impromptu performance, but all too soon the song is over and Steve heads back to his seat with a small round of applause and a blinding smile pulling at his flushed cheeks.

"Steve, what the fuck was that??" Robin blurts out before Steve can even sit. Eddie nods, a little dazed, beside her and tears at the paper label on his beer bottle, maybe if he can keep his hands occupied he can keep them to himself.

"What was what?" Steve breathes out as he hops onto the stool beside them, Robin in the middle.

Robin's mouth falls open as her face scrunches into something exasperated but fond, "What was--that! The dancing!"

"Oh, that," Steve huffs with a lazy smile, he leans his elbow on the sticky wood bar and waves at the bartender to signal for another gin and tonic, "I used to help Carol with her choreography for cheer".

Eddie pinches his thigh below the bartop and chews the inside of his cheek as the image of Steve in the Hawkins High cheer uniform begins to solidify in his minds eye, fuck.

Robin elbows Eddie without looking, somehow reading his mind, and throws her hands out, beckoning Steve to continue because that isn't nearly enough information.

"Yeah, she'd come up with routines and you know, they are meant to be done with more than one person, and I mean she and I were friends before Tommy so," he shrugs and smiles at the bartender as they pass him the drink, "I dunno, it was fun, and I remember that one the most".

"Plus," he says with a smirk, "Carol always said the best thing about dance is that you can tell who appreciates the performance and who appreciates the person doing it," he winks as Robin scoffs and calls him gross, but Steve isn't looking at Robin.

Eddie swallows as molten heat creeps up his neck and over his ears, the urge to hide his face, run for the door, melt into the floor, is immense.

But Steve doesn't move his gaze, he smiles softly at Eddie and winks again over Robin's head which she promptly drops into her hands.

"I'm surrounded by horny idiots," she grumbles but the words are muffled in the din of the bar and her own hands as Steve tips his head back to the dance floor and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.

#im pretending this song came out in 1981 or 82 when they were still friends #dont come for me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #robin is fed up with all this pining #i 100% want steve and carol to be the childhood besties #tommy came after and he and steve were good friends but maybe tommy is the reason why they stopped being so close #i just like the idea of steve and carol doing fun silly things like this #steve and eddie absolutely go home together after this #they have a short talk and then a long night #and then a longer talk in the morning

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littlemisssatanist · 2 months

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my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

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elliesbelle · 9 months

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how much i need you

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you don’t want to love your ex-girlfriend anymore, not when you know you’ll never amount to the girls she's loved before. maybe one day, she’ll realize how much she needs you.

content warnings: cursing, angst, break-up, ellie and reader are both in their mid-20s, joel is alive and never went golfing, descriptions of weapons, mentions of cannibalism, depictions of physical violence and blood, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death, extremely dark themes in general (proceed with caution), minors do not interact

word count: 10.5k

title based on lyric from the olivia o’brien song “hate u love u”

“I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? What do you mean by that?”

“If you can’t get over this, I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“E-Ellie.”

The silence between you two screamed in wounded agony. You’d been arguing for the past hour in Ellie’s garage. It was the same argument you’d been having for the past two weeks: Ellie and Cat. Ellie and Dina. Being constantly surrounded by remnants of her love life was crushing you. And even more so that she’d still banter, still flirt. And it cut you every single time.

Ellie would assure you that it was all platonic, that it was normal, the way she spoke to them. That there hasn’t been anything between her and either of them in years.

But how do you forget your first love? Who you had all your firsts with? And how do you forget your most recent ex-girlfriend? Especially one that you still remain best friends with?

You were growing tired of the jealousy. And Ellie was growing tired of your insecurity.

“Just go.” She finally murmurs.

You stare at her blankly.

“B-baby, please.” You whimper.

“I…I don’t think you should call me that anymore.”

“Wh-what?” Your vision was blurry from the tears streaming down your cheeks, falling relentlessly.

“J-just go.”

Ellie still loved you. She loved you more than she was ever able to say. She loved you more than she ever loved Cat. And even more than she ever loved Dina. She believed for the longest time that you could be her person. But maybe not. Maybe not if you just couldn’t deal with her history, her baggage.

“Please, no,” You beg. “Please don’t do this.”

Ellie remains silent as she walks over to the door to open it, signalling you to leave.

No matter how much you bawled and blubbered, Ellie stood her ground.

That’s how you spent the next month: weeping hysterically and enshrouding yourself in your misery.

You spoke only when needed, giving empty and lifeless half-smiles. Others attempted to inquire about the change in your behaviour, much too frequently that Maria had to step in and demand that they stop.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t difficult for them to guess why your once pleasant disposition turned joyless. People no longer saw you with Ellie, only ever catching glimpses of you when you tended to your duties or grabbed supplies or food that you’d eat alone in the sanctuary of your own home.

Ellie hadn’t spoken to you since that day. She hadn’t even asked after you, fearing that she'd come grovelling if she kept tabs on you.

Jesse, who was a patrol leader, and Maria, who was in charge of assignments, took pity on you and no longer appointed you to take part in the daily task of safeguarding Jackson. It was a harrowing job and they saw that your weakened emotional state would not benefit from constant threats of peril.

You didn’t mind this, convinced you were a shit patrol partner anyway. Stealth was usually your strong suit, but that didn’t benefit you much when you came face-to-face with actual danger. You didn’t have the muscles or the brawn to fight threats head-on.

Instead, you spent your days in the greenhouses. It didn’t require much socializing, and the manual labour tired you out, so much so that you could attempt to focus on your fatigue instead of your feelings.

And the plants were hopeful, innocent, forgiving. When you were alone, it was the one place that you still allowed yourself to hum and sing. Everywhere else in Jackson was tainted with memories of your ex-girlfriend, even your own home. But here in the solace of blooming greenery, you could feign a sense of happiness and croon quiet melodies of Etta James and Sam Cooke to the flourishing sprouts.

You knew your life didn’t revolve around Ellie. You knew that. Yet even so, you spent all your time thinking about her late at night when you inevitably couldn’t sleep. You remained a prisoner of your mind as the countless reminders of her you’d been hit with all over Jackson that day would replay in your head.

Every day when you’d make your way to the greenhouses, you were forced to pass by Joel’s house and see the little garage Ellie’d converted into her home. You’d go into the main square and walk by people who used to ask after you when you’d come into town with her, but whose faces no longer turned your way to even spare you a morning greeting. It was Ellie who was important around here, anyway, not you. Walking into the supplies shop or the Tipsy Bison met you either with the same treatment or with pitying expressions, neither of which you noticed much over miserably spotting Ellie’s favourite snacks or her usual brand of alcohol.

Jackson was always more Ellie’s than yours. You loved this town and of course it was home to you. But you’d only arrived a few years back, whereas Ellie had resided here since she was 14. There was no Jackson for you without Ellie. And every breath you took in this town felt like a bittersweet knife being shoved down your throat.

You’d made a few friends since you first arrived in town. But you’d always been closest to Ellie and her group, even before she and you’d started dating. After your break-up, your social routine was disrupted and you made no efforts to confide in others, though a few tried.

The day after Ellie dismissed you from her garage, you heard fervent knocking on your front door around noon. It was your day off and you’d woken up from beneath a throw blanket on your living room couch, having fallen asleep while sobbing into the cushions for a couple of hours. You pulled the sheet over your head and ignored the knocking, preferring the warmth of the blanket over your cold, new reality. You tried to shut your eyes and will for the unwanted visitor to give up and leave, but you relented when you heard the sound of Jesse’s voice ceaselessly calling out your name and threatening to break your front door down.

Jesse had just gotten back from an early morning patrol with Ellie. He’d spent much of the dawn pressing her about her silent and despondent behaviour, and after she gave in and confessed the previous night’s tragic events, he headed straight for your house just seconds after they reentered the gates of Jackson.

Jesse was greeted with your sorry, pathetic state: lips puffy yet cracked as a result of your anxious nipping and biting, a halo of crust around your eyes from your incessant tears the night before, clothes completely askew and clearly slept in. You offered him an insincere smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Hey, sorry,” You said, voice cracking. “I was sleeping.”

“In your patrol clothes from yesterday?” Jesse inquired.

You gave him a shrug.

“Listen, dude,” He began. “I heard about what happened last night and I wanted to make sure that—“

“Oh, yeah, that. It’s okay. I’m okay.” You interrupted, waving him off.

“Come on, man, I know that you’re—“

“I mean, I’m sad and all, but what are you gonna do, you know?”

“—not okay, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.”

You gave Jesse another wistful smile.

“Look, I gotta go get showered and everything, but I’ll see you all for dinner later at the Tipsy Bison, okay?”

You closed the door on him before he could respond, having no intentions of meeting up with him or any of your friends that night.

You didn’t open your door for visitors again after that day. Jesse passed by later that evening after you didn’t show, but you kept all the lights off in your house and ignored his yelling and knocking ‘til he eventually gave up for the night.

About a week or so after that day, you were walking out of your house for your assigned morning patrol when you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of one of the last people you wanted to see at that moment.

Dina’s right hand was outstretched as if she was about to knock on your door. She looked just as shocked as you when you locked eyes.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, you scared me.” Dina said, exhaling with a quiet laugh.

“Sorry” was all you muttered in response.

You closed and locked the front door as Dina watched you with a doleful gaze.

“Hey, so,” She started. “I…I know that you and Ellie broke up. She told me a little bit about what happened that night, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I ever caused any problems between you two and that I think she was seriously wrong for breaking up with you.”

You were barely processing her words, focusing your gaze instead on a crooked post in the brown picket fence that surrounded your house. You started feeling dizzy and you were struggling to remain upright and grounded.

“Umm, I totally forgot that I had something to do before patrol today. Can you tell Tommy and Joel that I’ll be a little late? Thanks, D.”

You rushed through your excuse before quickly unlocking and disappearing behind your front door, shutting it in Dina’s face the same way you’d done with Jesse.

That was the same day that Maria graciously told you she was taking you off the patrol rotation as you never showed up for your shift. Since then, the greenhouses have been your home away from home. You would arrive during the early hours of the morning before the sun had even graced the sky, and you’d leave only after most of Jackson was sound asleep in their beds. It was barely a life, but in a world where the alternative was being on the outside to be subjected to murderous demons, both of the monster and human variety, you couldn’t be completely ungrateful.

On a cold, snowy day where most of Jackson remained huddled in the shelter of their homes, Maria paid you a visit in the plant nurseries.

You were in a secluded corner away from the others who were also stationed as gardeners, repotting some seedlings into larger buckets. No one tried speaking to you anymore these days, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you heard the sound of Maria’s voice from behind you, you nearly dropped your shovel.

“Sorry to interrupt your work, hun,” Maria says apologetically. “But it’s urgent.”

“O-oh, okay.” You mutter, still reeling from the shock of being spoken to. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Well, half the town right now has dropped like flies because of this crazy flu that’s been going around. I’ve barely got anyone for patrols this week since most of them can’t even hold a pistol or stay upright on their horses.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond, almost impassive. You had no idea how any of this pertained to you.

“Now, I hate to have to ask you this,” Maria began slowly. “But do you think I can put you back on the patrolling schedule until more of my guys can recover? I wouldn’t be asking, but I really don’t have anyone left to send out there and you’re already trained and know the routes and everything.”

You froze. You had little desire to break out of your mundane everyday routine, and you were also extremely rusty when it came to patrolling. But Maria was always kind to you and was understanding enough to take you off the patrol rotation in the first place. You owed her.

“You really don’t have anyone?” You ask.

“I’m desperate, hun,” Maria states. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

You sigh.

“When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow, your usual time in the morning.” She says. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine.” You reply. “Which route?”

“I’ll give you a fairly easy one for tomorrow, give you a chance to get reacquainted with the road again. And don’t worry,” She adds. “I won’t pair you with her.”

You feel a sizeable lump in your throat, merely nodding in acknowledgement to who she was referring to.

“Okay. Tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, hun. It’s only temporary, I promise. You’ll be back in here before you know it. Do you want the rest of the day off today to prep?”

“No, it’s okay,” You reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, just maybe take it easy and don’t wear yourself out today. And go home early. I want you to rest up.”

You nod once more before returning to your busy work. You feel Maria’s hand on your shoulder and your body tenses up from the sudden physical contact, not having been touched by someone else in so long.

“Thanks again, sweetheart. I’m real grateful. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You feel Maria’s hand withdraw from you before she exits the greenhouse, leaving you with immediate dread and regret.

The next morning came quicker than you’d liked. Unable to sleep, you’d woken up an hour earlier than needed and spent that time preparing for patrol. You prepared the essentials in your backpack: a medkit, flashlight, a water bottle, a few snacks.

Attached to the front pocket of your bag was a little pin of a moon in its third quarter. Ellie’d found it on a patrol with Joel over a year ago and gifted it to you to match her spaceship pin on her own backpack. You hadn’t noticed you still had it on yours and contemplated removing it. In the end, you kept it on.

The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the thick grey clouds that scattered flurries all around Jackson. Though it would complicate and prolong patrols, you used to love it when it’d snow. It brought a certain kind of beauty that balanced out the dead and dark winter.

You had countless memories of you and Ellie in the snow: you gleefully rushing to the window when seeing it fall from the sky for the first time in the year and Ellie quietly admiring the way your face lit up every time, challenging each other to a snowball fight where Ellie would decimate you with no mercy to which you’d punish her for by stuffing handfuls of snow down her shirt, attempting to build a snowman in front of your house that ended up looking more like a blobfish instead and who you’d both affectionately named Puddles.

But now as you silently stomped through shallow puddles towards the stables, you curse the sky for ungenerously sending the white powder on a day you just wanted to be over as soon as it began.

You get to the stables, nodding at the stablehands with a curt smile, and walk up to your horse, Cleopatra. You smile as you brush her mane lightly with your fingers.

“Hey, old gal,” You sigh. “Sorry for being away so long.”

You then head to the armoury, planning to stock up on weaponry for the trip. As you’re loading a pistol, you hear someone join you from behind.

Dina comes up beside you and begins to load a shotgun. You work in silence for a few moments before she speaks.

“Hey,” She greets. “Jesse told me you were back on the patrol rotation.”

“Temporarily,” You correct her. “Just a favour to Maria while people are out sick.”

“Right,” Dina says. “You gonna be alright?”

“Mhmm” was all you say as you load a rifle.

“Well, don’t die out there!” Dina attempts at a joke.

“No promises.” You mutter as you exit the armoury.

You return to the stables to grab Cleopatra, walking past others preparing for their patrols as well. After a stableboy hands your her reins, you walk her out of the paddock and towards the large gates.

Spotting Jesse, you and Cleopatra head over to his direction while he gives orders to a couple of patrollers who looked like they’d never stepped outside the walls of Jackson in their lives. As they walk away, Jesse spots you walking towards him and his face breaks out in a smile.

“Maria told me you were coming!” He says jovially, giving you a one-arm hug that you tepidly return.

“Who are you sending me out with?” You ask, not wishing to engage in small talk.

“This guy Antoine,” Jesse replies. “He’s about our age and works in the stables, but Maria recruited him temporarily.”

You nod.

“Sorry to put you with someone new,” Jesse continues. “We’re trying to pair newbies with people with experience so we’re not sending people to their deaths out there.”

“You sure you want to send him out with a shit patroller like me?” You say.

“Oh, stop that,” Jesse reprimands. “You’re an excellent partner.”

You hum in disagreement and say nothing. Jesse leads you to where a tall, blonde man you assumed was Antoine who was standing and holding the reins of a horse you remembered was named Pink. He introduces you and talks about which route you’d been assigned to, and you and Antoine politely nod at each other before lining up with the rest of the patrollers right in front of the gates.

As Tommy and Joel give their usual speech on what to look out for and updates on what had been encountered on recent patrols, you suddenly feel a sense of dread wash over you. Ellie had walked up to join Dina, who was her patrol partner that day, with her horse Shimmer by her side. Your eyes betray you as they unwittingly fall on her casually conversing with Dina, laughing at a joke she seemed to have said. Tearing your gaze away from the sight, you don’t realize that seconds after you’d stopped looking at her, Ellie’s face drops as her eyes fall on you.

Once Tommy finishes a spiel on raiders having spotted nearby and warning against them, he and Joel nod everyone off to proceed with their duties as the sentries finally open the gates. You mount Cleopatra as Antoine does the same with Pink, and you start to pull at her reins to depart when you suddenly hear hoofbeats clopping towards you. Your face drains of blood as you see Ellie on Shimmer coming up to your side.

“Hey.” She says as she pulls Shimmer to a stop.

You try to work yourself up to greet her back but your mouth remains silent.

“I, umm, saw you got put back on patrols.” She mutters.

You muster up enough of your voice to mutter back, “For now.”

“Well, uhh. Be careful out there.” She cautions.

Unable to hold back a scoff, you say, “You don’t care.”

Before Ellie can respond, you tap Cleopatra lightly with your foot and jerk at her reins to signal her to move forward. You hear Ellie trying to call you, but you force yourself not to look back as you ride Cleopatra out of Jackson.

Antoine was the perfect patrol partner, in that he remained silent for most of your round. He seemed to sense that you were in no mood for small talk and only spoke in response to any directions you gave.

Maria upheld her promise of giving you a fairly easy route to scout. You and Antoine hadn’t encountered any Infected or otherwise throughout most of the patrol. After searching a nearby abandoned neighbourhood a little past noon, you decide that it was time to make the journey back to Jackson.

However, it seemed that Antoine, who had never been outside the walls of the town, was reluctant to leave.

“Wait, I kind of want to explore a little more.” He says, refusing to mount his horse Pink and heading into the empty house where he had her reins tied to the fence.

“Antoine!” You call out after him, having already mounted Cleopatra and readied yourself to leave. Antoine ignores you as he disappears behind the front door. You curse under your breath as you hop off your horse.

“Get your ass back here!” You yell as you cross the threshold of the house. You explore the place, scanning each room in an attempt to find the blonde man who you desperately wished to throttle.

You find him in one of the bedrooms upstairs, reading through a comic book he’d found in a small bookshelf in a corner. The front cover had an array of superheroes in nonsensical outfits, looking as if they were fighting in some war in outer space. You ignore the voice in your head that thought about how it looked like something Ellie would find fascinating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You demand.

“I can’t believe this is really shit that they had back in the old world. Whoever lived here has like, fifty of these.” Antoine says.

“Who the fuck cares, Antoine,” You angrily seethe. “We shouldn’t be out here too long. There could be Infected around.”

“We just checked out the whole neighbourhood and there wasn’t anything. Lighten up a little.” He replies.

“Just because we haven’t seen anything, it doesn’t mean there isn’t anything out there!”

“Look, this is my first time outside of Jackson. I just want to enjoy it for a little bit before I get stuck back on stable duty.”

“You wanna enjoy being out here where you could get ripped apart by monsters at any sec—” Your tirade was interrupted when the butt of a gun knocks you out.

Ellie and Dina were just returning from their patrol after being delayed by a group of Infected in a nearby grocery store. Trotting through the gates with their horses Shimmer and Japan, they were laughing over some ridiculous pun Ellie had just made and didn’t notice Jesse sprinting towards them.

“Jesus, fuck, thank god you’re both back.” He says as Tommy follows behind him.

“Sorry, man, had to clear out that grocery store about ten miles west. Had like, ten runners in there waiting for us.” Ellie explains, laughter still resonating in her voice.

Dina, noticing the serious look on Jesse’s face, eyes him warily.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” She asks him.

“You’re…you’re not the only ones who hadn’t returned yet.” He replies.

Ellie’s face falls slightly as she finally realizes the gravity of the situation.

“Oh shit, who else hasn’t gotten back?”

“It’s just one other pair who seems to be running late.” Tommy says, having caught up to the trio. Jesse gives him a warning look in response.

“Wait, who?” Dina asks, dismounting from Japan.

Jesse and Tommy unwittingly look at Ellie at the same time before sharing an anxious look. Ellie narrows her eyes.

“Who, Tommy?” She asserts.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it as Ellie’s face shifts from confusion to understanding. She pulls at Shimmer’s reins, urging her to turn around and retreat from the gates of Jackson once more. Jesse dashes forward and stops Shimmer in her tracks.

“We don’t know what’s happened yet, Ellie. They could have just gotten held back by something.”

“Fucking move, Jesse.” Ellie spits.

“She’s a smart girl, El. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

“I swear to god, dude, I will run you over.”

“What route did you assign them to?” Dina asks.

“The one that goes southeast and follows the river into that abandoned town about fifteen miles east.”

“Tommy!” Jesse chides, having withheld that information on purpose.

“Great. Thanks, Tommy.” Ellie says, urging Shimmer to walk past Jesse before Dina steps in front of her as well.

“Ellie, that’s a real easy route. I’m sure she’s fine.” Dina assures.

“She’s with that dumbass stableboy who’s never been outside of the town, much less held a gun before. If nothing’s happened, they would be back by now.”

“She knows how to take care of herself, kid.” Tommy chimes in. “I’m sure that the snow just delayed their return, that’s all.”

“Just give them an hour, dude,” Jesse adds. “If they’re not back by then, we’ll send a few people out to search.”

“A lot can happen in a fucking hour, Jess,” Ellie retorts. “I’m not leaving it up to chance.”

“What’s going on?” A voice behind the group says. They all turn to see Maria walking towards them.

“These fucking assholes won’t let me go after my fucking girlfriend.” Ellie hisses.

“Ex.” Jesse corrects her. Ellie shoots him a menacing look.

“Did they also tell you that we’re ready to go out and look for them if they don’t return soon?” Maria says, ignoring the exchange.

“I can do it right now.” Ellie replies stubbornly.

“You’ve been out patrolling all day, hun. I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve already gathered a group of people to help search the area if they don’t get back soon.”

“But—”

“Don’t let your guilt make you do something stupid, Ellie.” Maria interrupts with a tone of finality.

Ellie stares at her as Jesse pats her leg.

“She’s a smart girl, Ellie.” He repeats. “I’ll go out with the searching party myself too if they don’t get back soon.”

“Wait!” Dina yells, looking past the gates. “I see something!”

The group all focus their gaze on the direction she’s pointing at, making out a couple of figures approaching. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief when she makes out the outline of two horses approaching, but the moment is short-lived when the sight, which was originally obscured by the snow, reveals only one person riding on horseback.

Ellie dismounts from Shimmer as Antoine finally crosses the border of the town. She makes a beeline for him, angrily grabbing at his shirt and almost ripping him off Pink.

“Where the fuck is she? Why the fuck are you alone?!” She demands as Dina and Jesse tear her off him, allowing him to properly get down from his horse.

“I–we–I don’t…” Antoine begins to stutter.

“Speak, boy.” Tommy demands.

“I don’t…I don’t know where she is.” Antoine admits.

Maria, ignoring Ellie’s various curses and swearing, moves forward to speak.

“What the hell does that mean, Antoine?” She asks coolly.

“We got ambushed at the town we were patrolling, we were inside a house and they snuck up behind us, they knocked her unconscious and I was able to get away before they could get to me.” He replied so quickly that they almost didn’t catch what he was saying.

“So you fucking left her?” Ellie growls.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!”

“We gave you a gun, you were put into training beforehand,” Jesse scolds. “You’re partners for a reason. You’re supposed to fucking look out for each other.”

“I-I panicked. There were several of them and they were all big guys and—”

“It should have fucking been you instead!” Ellie screams, lunging towards Antoine before Tommy catches her and holds her back.

“What did they look like? Did they say anything? Anything at all that can lead to where they might have brought her?” Maria inquires.

“I-it was so quick and I couldn’t get a glimpse of their faces. They mostly wore black clothing. And th-they said…”

“Said what?” Jesse prompts.

“They said, ‘this one looks like she’ll be pretty delicious,’ before I could escape.”

You wake up to a throbbing headache and severe nausea. Your right hand flies up to your temple while the other shields your eyes from a blurry, yellow light being cast from somewhere above you. The first thing you see once your vision clears up a little is rusted, silver fencing that served as a cage. As you peer at your surroundings, you hear the repetitive sound of a blade hitting timber.

Sitting up, you see two men facing away from you and leaning over a wide, wooden table. One had a large sack flung over his shoulder that slowly dripped blood, while the other was wielding a butcher’s knife, chopping some kind of meat that your view was obscured from. It was only when the man slides it off the table with his blade that you realize what it was as you take in a sharply drawn breath: a human arm.

Your silent gasp catches the attention of the man with the sack, who nudged his companion. They both turn to look at you, the knife holder smirking as he did so. He places it down on the table to bring his full attention to you.

“Get Ian,” He tells the other man. “Tell him the girl’s finally awake.”

His friend nods before dropping the bag and walking out of the room which, as you inspect further, looked almost like a slaughterhouse. Your eyes flit back and forth between the man staring at you and the cage imprisoning you. You try to search for flaws in the fencing for a chance to escape, but you find none. The man continues to eye you, almost with an air of cruel arrogance.

A few moments pass before he’s joined by a different man with brown hair and a lightly-shaved beard. He joins his friend leaning on the wooden table and addresses you directly.

“Good morning,” He states civilly. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t respond, intent on keeping your interactions with these strangers as minimal as possible. The man continues to speak anyway.

“I apologize for the way my associates treated you. I’m sure they didn’t mean to knock you out that hard. You were unconscious for much longer than needed.”

He approaches your cage to crouch at your eye level and you instinctively back away until your back hits the wall behind you.

“My name is Ian, and this is my friend Jacob. Can you tell me what your name is?”

You make a show of tightening your lips in defiance.

“That’s alright, I get it. We’re strangers, after all.” He says, holding his hands up in acknowledgement. “We’re gonna get to know each other pretty well, I’m sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow, wondering his meaning but still too scared to open your mouth.

The man who had gone to fetch Ian returns with a wooden tray of food and a small cup in his hands which he slides underneath a small gap underneath the makeshift cage’s door. You eye it suspiciously. Your brain and your stomach are at war with each other, one begging for sustenance while the other berates it for its naivete.

“You better eat up,” The man named Ian says. “Gonna need your strength. Looks like you haven’t been eating much. And I know you’re hungry; been out for quite some time.”

You ignore his comment about the clear loss of weight you’ve gone through recently, knowing your face was slightly more gaunt than it ought to have been from eating a lot less for the past month.

“What is it?” You question despite yourself, eyes shooting towards the tray at your feet.

“It’s deer.” He responds simply.

Your eyes dart towards the human body parts that lay on the floor. Ian smiles and understands what you’re thinking without turning to see where your gaze is directed.

“Just deer meat. I promise.”

You go back to eyeing the food they’d given you, every ounce of your willpower being tested. To give in and eat the food they’d provided would be playing into their game, but you had no idea how long you’d been asleep and you were ravenous.

The man Ian had introduced as Jacob speaks up.

“I think we should just get rid of her; she seems stubborn.”

“Most of them are,” Ian responds. “We’ll break her. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You glower at him in response. He chuckles.

“We’ll give you some time,” He continues, standing up from his hunched position. “It’s ultimately up to you to decide your fate. Hope you like solitude.”

Ian looks at his companions and beckons them to leave. Jacob follows and the unnamed man picks up the sack he’d dropped previously, places the human remains on the floor inside of it, and follows the two others out before locking the door behind him.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding this whole time. It takes a few minutes, but you’re able to pull yourself up from the floor to further examine your surroundings. Even after closer investigation, the silver fencing seemed impenetrable and solid. The wooden tray they’d served the deer meat on was flimsy and thin, impossible to use as either a weapon or a means of escape. The cup was small and plastic, completely useless for anything else other than its intended purpose.

As options for liberation grew slimmer and slimmer, you begin to hyperventilate. You had a feeling that these men intended to leave you in here alone to go completely mad, at least until they decide to execute the next stage in their malevolent plan. You had no weapons, no means of escape, no company.

Your mind finally falls on your patrol partner, Antoine. Why wasn’t he in here? Did he get away? The trio made no mention of him. He would have been in here if he was captured as well.

Or did they “take care” of him first? You begin to feel even more nauseous when you remember what the man Jacob had been doing prior to your waking. Was Antoine not spared? You had no idea how long you were out for. Ian had only said that you were out for a while. Regardless of your loathing for Antoine and his stupidity, you prayed to every known entity out there that he’d made it back to Jackson.

Your heart sank even further down your stomach upon coming to another realization: was anyone looking for you? Surely after all this time, they’d realized you hadn’t been back from your patrol. They’d sent out search parties when people had gone missing, but how determined would they be to find you? Would they not just assume you were dead or, even worse, bitten? Who would be risking their safety outside the walls of Jackson for the shadow of a person that barely a soul in the town noticed anymore?

Ellie had not slept for more than twenty minutes in the past 72 hours. Despite Maria’s protests, she’d joined the search party that had been scouring the outskirts of Jackson for you. Maria eventually relented on letting her go when Joel had volunteered to join the mass of citizens tracking you down, promising her that he’d be by her side. Jesse and Dina had both stepped forward to take part as well, but Maria put her foot down and pointed out that she still needed competent protectors to continue keeping Jackson safe.

Antoine was dragged into joining the search party on the first day to retrace the steps you and he had taken during your patrol. He abashedly walked Ellie and Joel through the house you’d been kidnapped in, leading them into the bedroom where you’d been knocked unconscious. After squeezing every bit of information out of him, Joel crisply ordered Antoine to go back outside and wait with the horses while he and Ellie scoured the place.

Within moments of their search, Ellie spots a glint of metal on the rug. She crouches down to further inspect what had caught her eye to find a sharp, golden point aiming upward. She turns it over to see it was the half-moon pin she’d given you over a year ago. It was missing the backing, which she knew meant it was accidentally torn off your backpack that she knew you’d pinned it on.

Slowly standing up, Ellie didn’t realize that she’d begun to sob. Joel turns to her and before he’s able to inquire anything of her, she holds out the hand carrying the pin. He picks it up and examines it, immediately recalling the day when he and Ellie had found it during patrol. He remembered how gleeful she was upon its discovery, how he’d rolled his eyes and chuckled over how absolutely lovestruck she was over you. He pulls her into a tight hug as she continues to cry uncontrollably.

“We’ll find her, kiddo. You and me, we crossed the entire country together and survived. We’ll find her together, I promise.”

It could have been days, weeks that had passed since you were abducted. Time had no meaning in your small prison, nothing but the sun shining through a small window to indicate what vague hour of the day it possibly was. Your only source of human interaction was when someone would bring you a tray of food twice in, what you’d assume, a day. You’d eventually caved into your hunger, realizing that you had no other choice other than resorting to the same barbaric sin these people had grown so comfortable in doing. Your only comfort was knowing that they had only been feeding you deer meat, the flavour remaining unchanged and the taste never being unfamiliar.

It was a different person delivering the food and water every time, leading you to believe that this was a larger group of people than just the three men you’d met on your first day. At first, you attempted to keep count of how many came in, but your solitary confinement was quickly driving you to delusion and you began to doubt your memory.

The only thing that was keeping you mildly sane was singing to yourself throughout the day. The act that had once brought you solace during your time in the greenhouses was the one thing that was keeping you grounded as you felt yourself slowly withering away.

🎶 Tonight, you’re mine completely // You give your love so sweetly

Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes // But will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

Memories of Ellie come flooding to you like an avalanche: the way she’d wrap her arms around you while you were quietly humming songs from the old world to yourself as you washed dishes, the way she’d urge you to keep singing as she tried to twirl you around in your living room, how she used to love laying on your chest and listening to your crooning as you’d stroke her hair when you’d both be lounging on a day off.

🎶 Is this a lasting treasure // Or just a moment’s pleasure?

Can I believe the magic of your sighs? // Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You and Ellie both bonding over your love of music was one of the first steps towards falling in love with one another. You’d always been drawn to her, since the moment your eyes met. But as you both learned more about each other, that attraction grew into the feeling of needing her for the rest of your life.

🎶 Tonight with words unspoken // You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken // When the night meets the morning sun? 🎶

You wonder if you’d be where you were in the first place if you and Ellie hadn’t broken up in the first place. You would have kept your patrol duties, and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten paired up with Antoine. Maybe your desolation and disconnect from life turned you careless. You’d been in mortal peril several times in the past. But not like this.

🎶 I’d like to know that your love // Is a love I can be sure of

So tell me now and I won’t ask again // Will you still love me tomorrow?

Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You needed Ellie.

It had been over four days since your sudden kidnapping, and Ellie was growing more and more desperate. There had been little traces of where you’d been taken and even less proof of whether you were still alive. Ellie felt every part of her dying every second you hadn’t been found, and the only thing that kept her going was her unyielding determination to have you safe and sound back home.

It was evening when Ellie and Joel had regrouped with the rest of the search party at a watch tower that usually served as a patrol checkpoint. She and Joel had safely tied the reins of their horses next to the others before heading to the second floor of the watchtower. Ellie had been adamant to continue searching through the night, and it took everything within Joel not to drag her by her toes to get some rest and convene with the others.

Joel was reprimanding her calmly for making them late meeting up with the rest of the search party as they walked into the room full of other Jackson citizens who were all conversing erratically. When they’d set eyes on the pair, a hush fell over the group. Ellie and Joel begin scanning their faces before a woman in the middle speaks up.

“We think we might know where they are, Joel.” She announces softly.

Ellie’s exhausted demeanour immediately shifts to alertness.

“Where? How do you know? Are you sure?” She demands agitatedly.

Joel holds a hand up to Ellie before saying, “What did you find?”

“Audrey and Lyn spotted some raiders about six miles northeast. Or at least, they thought they were raiders. They overheard their conversation and…” She looks over at a pair of women sitting on a couch to the side.

“They’re from a settlement not too far from where we spotted them.” The woman named Lyn speaks. “I’m not sure how we never discovered it, but there’s a rather large group that’s dwelling in that area. Not nearly as big as Jackson, but a good amount,”

“They armed?” Joel questions.

“Yeah. We need to be careful approaching them. It doesn’t to be as safely guarded as Jackson, but the sentries still look vicious.”

“Do we need backup?”

“I think as long as we’re smart and stealthy, our group will be good enough to infiltrate their village.”

“How do we know for sure that she’s in there?”

Lyn exchanges a look with the woman Audrey next to her.

“They were talking about some fresh meat that they’d acquired just a few days ago, a girl. They—”

Lyn falters, unable to finish her sentence. Audrey glances at her before looking at both Joel and Ellie with wary eyes.

“Th-they’re cannibals, Joel.”

All the colour drains from Ellie’s face as she’s flung into memories from a decade ago of being trapped in a cage by a man named David.

🎶 They say everything can be replaced // They say every distance is not near 🎶

You were laying on your back, facing up at the bleak and boring ceiling that you’d grown to memorize.

🎶 So I remember every face // Of every man who put me here 🎶

Your eyes were glazed over, autonomously singing lyrics to a song that you knew by heart.

🎶 I see my light come shining // From the west down to the east 🎶

You try desperately to cling to the memory of Ellie’s face, terrified to lose all the small details that you felt slowly slipping away as you descend more and more into sequestered delusion.

🎶 Any day now, any day now // I shall be released 🎶

“Is that what you think, sweetheart?” A voice interrupts your musical reverie.

You turn slowly towards the speaker who was crouching outside your cage, your head the only thing that moves as the rest of your body is too weak to physically respond.

“You have a beautiful voice. I’ve been growing fond of hearing it these past few days. Big fan of the oldies, huh?”

You continue to stare at Ian, your face expressionless.

“That’s something we’ve got in common, you and I. I’m quite partial to Otis Redding myself.”

You struggle to keep down the bile building up in your throat at hearing this repulsive man expressing love for something.

“It’s almost endearing how you still hold out hope for escaping.”

“It’s just a song.” You finally speak, deadpan.

“True.” Ian responds, his face perking up at your engagement. “You still do have a chance to be released, you know. Just gotta prove that you’ll be a valuable asset to us. Be a team player.”

“You mean consent to eating people.”

“We’re survivalists, princess. In this world, being picky is not a luxury.”

“I’d rather retain the little humanity I have left, thanks.” You retort before turning your head back to stare at the ceiling once more.

“Surviving and persevering is inherently human. We kill to survive. We take care of our own, by any means necessary.”

“So now what?” You ask. “You’re gonna chop me up into tiny pieces and serve me to your cult?”

“Hey, now. ‘Cult’ is a bit too strong of a word, muffin.” He says, defensively. “Like I said, we’re survivalists. But I’d rather not have to—how’d you say it? ‘Chop you up into tiny pieces’?”

You merely scoff in response.

“Please tell me your name.”

“No.”

“You know mine.”

“Indeed I do.”

“I’ve been quite honest with you. It’s just the polite thing to do, you know.”

“You know what’s polite?” You turn your head back towards him. “Not keeping someone in a fucking cage.”

“Just a precaution. Gotta figure out if you can be one of us.”

“In your motherfucking dreams, asshole.” You spit.

Ian sighs before standing up straight once more. He looks at you despondently.

“It’d be a shame to lose you, sweetheart. You have heart. You’re special. Having you for dinner would feel like such a waste of the little beauty left in this world.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” You seethe.

“That’s too bad.” Ian tsks. “Keep singing those songs for me, sweetheart. While you still can.”

He exits the room, and you hear the sound of multiple locks clicking as you had every time you were left alone once more.

A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that you may not be trapped in this cage for much longer.

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes scan their surroundings, observing the guards that patrolled the edge of the village. There were at least a dozen of them and they appeared to be heavily armed as Lyn had promised. Some were keeping vigilant watch, but most were carelessly chatting with one another.

The whole party from Jackson remained perfectly concealed in the shadows of the forest right next to the village. They’d chosen to arrive at dusk at the exact time that the sun had just set, perfect to remain eclipsed in the shade but having enough light to navigate the unfamiliar town.

Joel lifts his head slightly from the bush he and Ellie were hidden behind, meeting the eyes of the others as he gave a signal. They all nodded in quiet response as they readied their weapons, some holding pistols equipped with makeshift silencers and Ellie with her faithful bow and arrow. One by one, they take out each of the guards. They fall quickly to the ground, none having enough time to react or sound any alarm of an attack. The second the last one collapses, Joel holds up a hand as he silently counts down before signalling the rest to quickly approach.

Ellie is the quickest to reach the border of the town, having set aside her bow and equipping her semi-auto pistol. Remembering information Lyn and Audrey had provided from their overheard conversation, she swiftly weaves through the village as her eyes scoured for a brick house with a metal entryway. Most of the buildings seemed to be partially constructed with a wooden exterior, but if their intel was correct, you were being kept in some kind of slaughterhouse.

As she’s made it halfway through the town, Ellie catches the eye of another companion who gestures to a brown cinder block building being guarded by two citizens holding hunting rifles. She scans the scene before aiming her gun towards them, her precise shots quieted by a silencer. Both guards topple over almost immediately, giving Ellie the opportunity to sprint towards the entrance. She’s joined by a boy named Levi to see the door to the slaughterhouse sealed off by a heavy padlock. She signals Levi to draw back before aiming her pistol and shattering the lock.

Ellie tears it off the handles before wrenching the doors open. She actively ignores the heavy machinery and smell of rotting meat and spots a door that appeared to lead down to a lower floor. That too was padlocked and she immediately attended to it the same way she’d done with the first. Levi remains behind to keep watch as Ellie quietly descends down the stairs to the basement.

She ignores all the doorways leading to other rooms when she spots a heavy-looking metal door with multiple locks. As she approaches it, she hears a muffled melody from behind it.

Is that…singing?

🎶 Now you say you’re lonely // You cry the whole night through

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

Ellie recognizes the same voice she had fallen in love with all those years ago as yours, her heart filling with affection and her spirits being lifted for the first time in days.

🎶 Now you say you’re sorry // For being so untrue

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

As she examines the steel entryway for an opening, she’s flooded with memories of secretly listening to your innocent singing when you had thought you were alone.

🎶 You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head // While you never shed a tear

Remember, I remember all that you said // Told me that love was too plebeian

Told me you were through with me 🎶

Ellie unbolts several latches and uses her pistol to shoot off yet another heavy-duty lock that separated her from you.

🎶 And now you say you love me // Well, just to prove you do

Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

She violently wrenches the weighty door open, realizing now more than ever how much she needs you.

🎶 I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you 🎶

The song fades to an end as her eyes fall onto a figure trapped within silver fencing, laying flat on its back with its hands folded on its stomach.

“B-baby?” Ellie whispers, eyes filling with tears.

Your own eyes remain closed as you ignore the quiet voice you assumed was Ian, returning once more to torment you and perhaps even drag you to your death.

Ellie approaches your cage, her gaze falling on your frame for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She notices how much scraggier you appeared, clearly being fed very little during your confinement.

She clears her throat softly as she crouches down to your level, hand falling on the fencing that felt reminiscent of the prison she was once held in all those years ago.

“Baby.” She repeats once more, her voice clearer and fuller.

“Go to hell, Ian.” You finally vocalize, eyes still remaining closed and ignoring how the voice seemed different from that of Ian’s. You conclude that you’ve finally reached the point of delusion where any voice you hear mimics that of your ex-girlfriend.

“No, it’s-it’s me.” Ellie whispers.

You finally open your eyes and turn towards the source of introduction. Your eyebrows lift slightly as you take in the features of the girl you were still madly in love with, despite everything. You look her up and down for a few moments before returning to your original position.

“This is a rather cruel joke. I preferred it when my hallucinations left me alone, thank you.”

“This isn’t a hallucination,” Ellie utters as she feels her heart crack. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

You turn back towards her and finally sit up, further examining your new companion. You scrutinize her further, still fully of the belief that your delusion had finally taken hold of you. You approach the border of your cage slowly before speaking.

“Are you real?” You ask.

Finally within your reach, Ellie holds a hand out as far as she’s able to stroke your cheek.

“I’m real, pretty girl. I promise.”

The moment her skin touches yours, your body is filled with a sense of vigour and life that it hadn’t felt in weeks.

“E-Ellie?” You say meekly.

“I’m here,” She repeats. “I’m here. I’m getting you out right now.”

“No, you’re not. Hands up.”

Your body freezes at the sound of the voice you’d grown to be familiar with the past few days.

“Drop the gun. Now.”

Ellie immediately lets go of her pistol and rigidly straightens up from her crouched position. She turns slowly towards Ian who has a revolver pointed, not at her, but at you.

“So, my new pet has a little friend? Sweetheart, you never told me about her.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Ellie spits.

“I can call her whatever I want. I’m not the one with a gun to their head.”

Ellie eyes his revolver and slowly inches to shield you from his aim.

“Don’t you fucking move!” Ian hisses. “I can shoot you, then shoot her.”

“E-Ellie, please just,” You stutter. “Move out of the way.”

“No,” Ellie mutters through gritted teeth, standing her ground. “I’m not fucking moving.”

“You’ve got until the count of three.” He orders her.

You grip the back of Ellie’s shirt through the fence, silently urging her to move. She refuses to yield.

“One,” Ian begins. “Two—”

His countdown is interrupted by the butt of a gun colliding with the back of his head. Joel emerges from behind him holding up a hunting rifle.

You let out a choked-out sob, your grip on Ellie’s shirt loosening. Hot tears were falling down your cheeks that you didn’t notice until Ellie turned towards you to check on your state, wiping them away.

“Are you okay?” She asks fervently.

“I-I…” You stammer.

“We need to go now.” Joel interrupts. “We may have taken out a few guards, but we don’t know how many more they have stationed out there.”

Joel searches Ian’s unconscious body, finding a set of keys in his front pocket. After some trial and error, he and Ellie are able to find the key that unlocked your cage.

Ellie pulls you into a tight embrace, repeatedly whispering “thank god, thank god,” into your hair. You pull away, feeling slightly suffocated and having no desire to remain within this room that served as your prison for what felt like years.

Ellie picks up the pistol she had dropped before she begins to walk you towards the exit. But before you reach it, Ian begins to stir from beneath you. Both Joel and Ellie point their respective guns at him.

“Wait.” You say, holding a hand up.

“Baby, but—“ Ellie begins but stops when she sees you reaching towards the butcher’s knife that had been stabbed into the chopping table, the same one that had served as your only view during your confinement.

Ellie releases your waist just as you lift the cleaver above your head.

The moment you step out of the slaughterhouse, you nearly collapse. It was almost as if the air outside your prison was twice as thick than within, and your lungs were still incapable of not choking from it.

Ellie, sensing you about to drop, quickly wraps her arms around your waist as your legs crumple beneath you. She scoops you up from your knees and carries you down the road, Joel following quickly behind. As you spot the borders of the town where familiar faces from Jackson begin convening around you, you black out in a flash.

You wake up to the familiar scent of cedarwood and sage. Your body feels weighed down onto what felt like a bed, unable to move your limbs with ease. Every part of you still wished to remain asleep, but something else seemed to be pulling you out of your comatose state. Your eyes are the first to move, fluttering open slowly and agonizingly before they survey the position you’d been unconsciously placed in.

Light peeks through sheer blue curtains that decorated Ellie’s garage window to your right. You shift your head slightly to gaze through the panes, regarding how there was barely any snow on the ground. Your eyebrows knit in bewilderment, wondering how long you’d been out for that the snow had finally melted.

“It rained yesterday while you were sleeping.”

You slowly turn towards the sound of the gentle, calming voice and meet the ocean-green eyes that had been staring at you since the moment you’d woken.

“What?” You whisper, voice croaking from lack of use.

“That’s why there’s no snow anymore. Rain melted it away last night.”

Ellie was sitting at the foot of the bed, a graphic novel right next to her that now lay forgotten.

You stare at her in befuddlement, perplexed at how she’d read your mind so quickly and easily just from a look.

“Oh,” You say. “How long was I out for?”

“About a day or so.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Ellie says, moving from her spot to settle next to you. She places a gentle hand on top of yours.

“I-I don’t know.” You reply, cringing instinctively at her touch.

She pulls away immediately.

“S-sorry…”

“It’s okay.” You utter, heart rising to your cheeks. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine, I promise. We were able to get in and out quick with no casualties on our side.”

“No one was hurt?”

“That kid Levi is probably a little traumatized after entering that slaughterhouse, but he’ll probably stop vomiting anytime soon.” Ellie attempts a joke, smiling slightly.

You don’t return her smile, looking down at your hands in guilt. The memories of being trapped in that isolated hell were still so raw and you were trying not to throw up from the thought of it yourself.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid to get caught like that. I put so many people in fucking danger just because I let my guard down. I fucking—”

“No, don’t do that.” Ellie interrupts. Her hand twitches, as if she wanted to touch you again but stopped herself. “That fucking coward Antoine should have never left you alone.”

“It’s not his fault… He was just scared. It’d have probably been worse if he got caught along with me.”

“If you just had a competent partner out there with you… It should have been me in the first place like it always was before.” Ellie curses.

“It’s fine…” You mutter.

“It’s not fucking fine!” Ellie exclaims, throwing her hands up and getting up in frustration. You watch as she paces by the bed. “I-I could have lost you, baby.”

“Why does that matter?” You whisper.

“B-because…” Ellie stutters, not making eye contact with you. “Because I love you.”

You stare at her vacantly. Those had been the words you’d been wanting to hear again from her for the past month. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her.

“You didn’t before.” You say blankly. “What you did, someone who loved me wouldn’t do that. You left me. You fucking left me.”

Ellie kneels next to you and dares put her hands on top of yours once more.

“I never stopped loving you, baby. The past few weeks… it was fucking hell on earth. It took fucking everything in me not to crawl back on my knees to you and beg for your forgiveness.”

“But you didn’t,” You argue. “You threw me out, Ellie. You told me to stop calling you ‘baby.’ The past month… it was slowly killing me, and you didn’t give a damn. You didn’t fucking care. You went about your life like you didn’t tear my heart out of my chest. I haven’t seen you once since that night, and suddenly you’re here telling me you still love me.”

“Cause it hurt me every time I saw you.” Ellie says, voice cracking and eyes watering. “Every time I saw you when I passed by the greenhouses or when I would see you walking home… it fucking hurt.”

“Didn’t fucking seem like it. ”

“I-I thought… I thought being apart was what was best for us. I loved you so much and I didn’t want my past to get in the way, I thought that maybe I could make you see that I’m faithful to you and only you. It was so fucking stupid, I was so fucking stupid.”

Tears were streaming down Ellie’s face nonstop now, staining the bedsheets.

“Everything that happened to you the past few days, it was my fault. You’d never have been there if I didn’t push you away. I can only imagine the kind of torture you went through, being in there. I was so fucking terrified, the most I’d ever been in my whole life. All because I was too fucking proud, too fucking blind.”

Your breath hitches, remembering the time Ellie’d confided in you one sleepless night about what happened to her a decade ago when she was kidnapped by a man named David.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Ellie continues. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t love anybody else. You don’t know how much I need you, how much I’ll always need you. I was so fucking stupid, I’m so sorry.”

You pull one of your hands away from hers to caress her face, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are kind of stupid.”

Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise and her face breaks out into a teary smile.

“It took me getting kidnapped and eaten by a group of cannibals for you to apologize?” You say, joking for the first time in a month. Ellie laughs awkwardly.

“I’ll never leave you again. I swear.”

“No, you don’t have to swear, Ellie. It’s—“

She shakes her head.

“I know I have to gain your trust back. I can’t imagine the hell you went through the past few days, and the most important thing for me right now is to make sure you’re okay. And to make sure you know that I’ll be here with you. Forever, until you don’t want me anymore.”

“I’ll always want you, Ellie.” You smile, your thumb wiping her tears away. She leans into your hand as she gazes lovingly back at you.

“C-can I kiss you?” She asks softly. You freeze for a moment.

“I-I’m still… I mean, the past few days are still—” You begin to stutter.

“It’s okay, baby.” She whispers. “Please don’t rush yourself, take your time.”

She settles for taking your hand on her face between both of hers and giving it the lightest of kisses. You smile before she speaks again.

“I’ll wait forever.”

author’s notes:

absolutely insane how long this one-shot turned out to be. it was supposed to be much, much shorter but oops. thank you for being patient with me.

reader’s moon pin is in third quarter (or just a half moon) because third quarter moon is supposed to represent forgiveness and revisiting past actions and etc. thought it was fitting :)

the part where reader wakes up in the cage is supposed to mirror when ellie was captured by david in the first game, so if it sounds familiar, that's why

the cult leader's name is ian simply because i have an ex-boyfriend whose name is ian and i hate his guts, it was fun to name a bad guy after him

love you all, promise i’ll work on ncty soon. just dealing with a lot of shit in my personal life rn (yes a lot of it is shit with my ex shut up), so just keep being patient with me if y’all can ♡︎

taglist: @spaceshipellie, @ximtiredx, @jajsnjz, @sawaagyapong, @beforeimdeceased, @carmellie, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @elliesplaylist, @p1llowthoughtss, @lonelyfooryouonly, @machetegirl109, @herdelreydear, @elliesnumber1gf, @ellies-tatoo, @eleactric

#ellie one-shot #belle one-shot #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #ellie smut #Spotify #audio #belle speaks #v #belle writes

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winterarmyy · 8 months

Note

Imagine a like avenger!Bucky x shape shifter! Reader.

It could be enemies to lovers smut too because why not?

The reader is the beast boy but a girl version...you can make them green

I don't see skin color 🙄(I'm joking,I'm black)

What if you make the reader green it could be like Bucky's in his room and he hears crying so he follows the sound to find y/n crying because she messed up on a mission and some agents said mean things idk and he is trying to comfort her and then they kiss and then more idk

Then, if she isn't green it could be .....sex pollen...she gets hit with sex pollen while on a mission and comes back...well you know worked up? She's in pain and even those Bucky "hates her" he also wants to help her so he..how do I say this.. he fucks her brains out.

I'm Not Like Her

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body look and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

Note: I'm not even open for asks but your brilliant mind just spark something in me! Plus, i see you a lot in my comments so here you are... and the pic is hilarious btw 🤣

Pairing: avenger!bucky x shape shifter!reader

Words: 1.5k++

Warnings: mild enemies to lovers, hint fat shaming, angst, bucky likes to tease the reader but not too much, fluff, cause he secretly loves her, allusion to smut??? and sam just being himself.

Idea explanation: personally i don't think i'm qualified enough to write about being discriminate against for skin color. I need more research of it.

BUT, physically, i am on the curvy side. I don't have a flat stomach, my thighs are bigger than they supposed to. cause i'm fucking 4'11 (so i look fat for my height). And i know what it feels like when people comment abt that.

Soooooo instead of turning green, imagine that the reader doesn't have the fit and perfect model-like body like other agents. Her powers? She can shape shift into any living being (person/animals/aliens) for a short amount of time, like 3-7mins.

Bucky Barnes is a bully. He'd do anything to annoy the shit out of Y/N. Everything he does just ticked her off, you name it; hair pulling, cheeks pinching, mean little jokes about how Y/N would suffocate him to death if she ever sit on him.

Bucky Barnes acts exactly like a mean teenage boy who bullies the person he likes. But she doesn't know that, does she?

What she knew was he is a menace that loves to see her bright red, in embrassment and anger. What she knew was he likes to dig into her skin and ripped her heart out from how vexingly mean he is with her.

But, he was never cruel. No. He is the sweetest a man can be when he wants to. She still remembered those days he would drop off bunch of her favorite snacks and sweets during that week she was hospitalized from a rough mission.

Don't get her wrong though, he still teases her A LOT during those visits but it was sweet of him to come by and cheer her up.

But if he wasn't cruel. Then, why was she on the verge of tears?

Y/N stood alone in the kitchen, her hands strongly gripped onto the edges of the counter like she would shatter it with her bare hands. At time like this, she wished nothing more than just to shift into a bird and fly away.

Just so far away that no will able to catch her.

But those agents certainly did shot a bullet through the thickness of her gut when they said those words.

Y/N was just going to grab a cold drink after her sparring with Bucky, when she heard their vile whispers. She stopped at her tracks and hid behind the wall the moment she heard her name was mentioned.

"I don't understand why we keep her around. Did you see her panting for air from a quick sparring with Barnes? And doesn't she sound like a pig?" He sneered.

"We keep y/n around cause she has powers you, dumbass. Why are you being mean anyway, didn't you guys had a thing like 2 weeks ago?" The other voice said.

"It was a prank. Didn't think she'd believe it. Me dating her? Please. Not in any universe." He trailed, "Though if she shift into Natasha, then maybe I'll consider fucking her." Y/N could hear his smirk even from the block of the walls.

The other man laughed as if it was funny, "But it only lasts so long though? What if she turn back into herself when you have your cock inside her?"

The man gagged and said, "Ewww please stop. That's just fucking disgusting."

And when they left the kitchen, Y/N aimlessly went to the area. What was she gonna do just now? Oh, get some cold water. But why won't her hands move? They've been digging into the hard surface of the counter for how long now? If she goes any harder, her fingers would bleed. And why's her vision was blurry? Why there's wetness on her cheeks?

She didn't even notice that she was crying, beause she was so focused on fixing her own broken heart. And even if her pride was left to almost nothing, but she held on. She chose hold on to it for as long as could. Cause deep down she knew they were right.

No one's gonna love her for who she is, they will always be blinded by the flaw of her body and not see the pure of her heart. And if that is the ugly truth she had to face, then she chose to love herself. To be proud of herself.

But it is so hard does it? How can you love yourself when no one else is willing to love you?

"Doll?" Bucky's voice was soft when he called her that she didn't even heard him the first time around.

When Bucky heard sounds of someone sniffling, he knew that someone was crying. So he followed the hiccups of voice to the kitchen. But he didn't expect the culprit would be Y/N.

He almost rushed to her when she continued to sob, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets? Did you hurt yourself?" He briefly cupped the softness of her cheeks before slightly holding up her hands to see if there's any cut from it.

When he noticed that there weren't any physical injuries, the tense of his muscles relaxed just a little bit. His big hands went to reach her face again, and gently wiped her tears away. He was so tender with his hold but his tone was far from it, "Who did this to you?"

And she told him exactly what happened. Even with hiccups in between her ranting breath. He listened. He listened to every single word she had to say, not cutting into her confession, not even once. And Y/N didn't know why she told him that. He supposed to be the last person she complained to about her look, about her weakness, about her flaws.

Bucky Barnes, the same one that loves to tease her about it all. He wasn't supposed to hear the dooms of her heart. But, he was. He was listening to her.

And he was seeing red.

Bucky had never felt rage this powerful in his life, he swore that if he let it consume him, the tower would be painted with blood. But, he held back. For her.

Because she needed someone to be there for her. And Bucky felt he was the luckiest to be that person.

"I'm not like her." She whispered tiredly. "I'm not like her, Bucky. I'm not attractive like Natasha or pretty like Zendaya or even Steve at that matter, like he has such tiny waist for his built, and he's a fucking man!!" She ranted every minor things that bothered her to him.

Bucky thought of his words for a while and simply said, "Yes, you're not like Natasha, or Zendaya, or Steve..." he chuckled at the end, "...But that's the best bits about you, doll." There was this flare in his eyes that Y/N couldn't wrap her finger around it.

"Are you making fun of me, right now?" She glared in between the tears in her eyes.

"No, I'm only telling you the truth." Bucky tucked her hair as he continued, "So what if you're not like her? There will always be someone that will see you more that just a piece of meat to fuck."

"Well, then I won't have that someone then."

"Oh, but I know one person though." Bucky grinned, "Me."

Y/N was rendered speechless when he confessed his true feelings.

"Doll, have you ever wonder why I love pinching your cheeks so much?" His fingers started to trail across her cheeks and his stare lingered in her eyes as his naughty hands find their way to her hips.

"It's because I was desperately trying to avoid grabbing these soft, thick thighs of yours." his eyes darkened the moment that he said, "And oh baby the things I'd do for you just to slide my cock between them."

It was like she was hypnotized by the way his hardened bulge grinding against her tummy. It felt good and his lust-filled gaze was doing nothing but making her wet, "Bucky..." she whispered.

Bucky lips was so gentle on her eyelids and her temple, until his teeth grazed along her neck and his groaning call reached her ears, "And do you know why I was pissed when we were sparring just now?" Asked before quickly clarifying, "It's not because I lost to you."

He grinded a particularly hard thrust against her that he accidentally moan in pleasure, "Oh babydoll, no. It's because I have this absolutely gorgeous girl on top of me, and her slutty body was just so close to me that I got so fucking hard. "

Bucky lifted her face towards his to watch how she was melted in his touch, "I was so pissed, because I can't fuck you the way I want to." His lips was so close, hovering over her own as he confessed.

But suddenly they felt a splash of water hitting side of their face, "Woah woah woah. Down, boy. Bad bucky. Bad!" Sam yelled. Imagine his surprise when he got into the kitchen to see Bucky literally humping on Y/N like a dog in heat.

They didn't even notice him approaching them with a glass of water in his hand.

Though Y/N was absolutely red in embrassement, but surely Bucky doesn't give a fuck. He didn't even acknowledge Sam's pleas to stop, especially when he crashed his lips on hers.

Y/N moaned lewdly as he effortlessly lifted her on the kitchen isle, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against her needy cunt. At that point, who cares if anyone's watching. She wanted him so bad. As bad as he wanted ruin her.

Sam scrambled backwards when Bucky started to unzip his pants, "Shit he's going feral." He dramatically ran across the halls leading to the kitchen as he announced, "Okay people, out. Get out. No one is allowed to the kitchen unless you want to be in debt cause I am not paying for your therapy."

Safe to say the kitchen was a fucking mess when Bucky was done with her and the cleaning crew was traumatized by the amount of wetness and cum they had to clean around the area.

End.

A/N: This was so random but I hope you enjoyed it! Drop some thoughts behind for me to pick up and squeal at, would you?

#random asks 💌#yinn writes 📝#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky

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blorbosinmyheadcentral · 5 months

Note

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

#showtime #tadc showtime #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #showtime ship #cherpiet #Really appreciate how their dynamic can blur the line of friendship/romance so easily #Supervised Machine Learning is just. *gestures at all that*. minus the romance #Also sorry for taking so long to answer the ask I am not good at answering asks #I don't always know what to say #I wish I had what gooseworx has. She is a big insp #long post

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honeybleed · 3 months

Text

series masterlist

content & warnings: fem!reader, modern au, college au, smut (oral f. receiving, breastplay, piv, spit balling, reiner nasty here👨🏽‍🦯)

author’s note: this is very much inspired the amazing vee and her reijean fics and headcanons! please check them out i adore her so much, she is an amazing author 💓 mdni banner credit to @/cafekitsune

word count: 4.2k

In the final few days of the semester, Jean had holed himself up in the art department's pottery studio.

He wanted to make a handcrafted gift for his mother back home, who had another recurrence of cancer and was currently living in a hospice.

Jean's mother wasn't weak-willed.

Looks can be deceiving. At first glance, the plump woman of short stature with rosy cheeks and mousy brown hair often scraped back into a ponytail appeared timid.

However, raising her son by herself didn't allow her to rely on others and she hated pity. Murmurs and tuts, sighs of sympathy sent her into a rage.

During breaks when Jean visited out of concern, she'd shoo him away.

"Ma please." Jean tutted as he watched her in the armchair. "I came all this way to see you, why can't I stay here?"

Rolling her eyes, she groaned as her eyes fixated on crocheting.

"God, I really must have one foot in the grave if you insist on imprinting yourself on me now." She scowled as she put down the crotchet hooks in her lap and met his eyes.

"Ma!" Jean sighed frustratedly, dragging his hand down his face. He took a deep breath as he screwed his eyes shut. "Don't say shit like that!"

He knew he was a spoiled child. An ungrateful kid who pushed his mother away at every turn. And he couldn't bear how it took her diagnosis for him to realise the error of his ways.

There was only so much 'you were just a kid' from her lips softly could do. It made him resent himself deeply. Plagued with constant shame and guilt about how he treated his mother.

The two had a candid conversation. It was raw and he remembered snivelling into her lap despite his six foot three frame as he gripped the hem of her dress.

She urged him not to visit and to enjoy his summer after graduation. He wasn't too sure despite her insistence.

"If I see you skulking around here, I'm not gonna even acknowledge your existence. Do you understand?" Her voice echoed in his head.

His memory dissipated away as you entered.

"Yo, Jean!" You called out as you pushed the heavy door of the pottery studio open.

"Hi pretty girl, you need me for something?" He smiled, his bright brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

You approached Jean and leaned over to inspect the clay on the pottery wheel as he turned his focus on moulding the wet clay in his hands.

Always flirting. But never a move was made. It irked you at first but you left it. Hell would freeze over before you pursued a man.

"Just wondering why you cooped yourself up in here all day." You responded as you folded your arms, leaning against the wall.

"Tryna make some present for my Ma." He snorted. "Since summer's coming up. Figured since all she ever wants is to receive a homemade gift. She hates store-bought crap. Maybe you can help me out."

"Oh...with what?"

"I'm trying to work the clay into the shape of a cat but I'm having trouble with the ears."

"Oh yeah, she was pretty fond of cats. What was the name of the tabby cat you guys had?" You asked as you reached out to adjust Jean’s fingers, moulding a part of the cat's ear that he was working on.

"Felix! Yeah, she was heartbroken when he passed away. I don't even have a reference photo, I'm working from memory mostly." He chuckled. "She spoiled that cat, lemme tell ya. Sure she loved him more than me."

Your first love. The unrequited love that had been chipping away at your heart for over a decade belonged to none other than Jean.

Your mind changed. You could never pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him.

Maybe it was in the summers when you sat side by side on the steaming kerb as orange ice pops dripped down the stone slabs.

Perhaps it was when your fingers frozen from the subzero conditions shook from how long you worked on the snowmen only for some older bullies in your neighbourhood to kick it down, leaving you in tears and Jean fighting (and losing).

It could've been when a popular guy in your grade asked you for homecoming and bailed last minute since it was at your expense to make everybody laugh, and Jean decided to ditch and bring you to the nearby lake where you star gazed all night.

Either way, Jean Kirstein had always been a constant in your life.

"What are your plans after graduation?" You chirped. "I was thinking we could go somewhere."

"What'd you have in mind..?" He smiled. "Cos I was just thinking of heading back home. Maybe get a part-time job n live with Ma since-"

He paused.

"You know she'd hate that." You chuckled.

"I know." He got up from the stool, heading over to wash his hands. "I'm gonna head over to the sports department."

Your face instantly soured. You knew all too well who would be there. Miss Black Belt Mikasa Ackerman.

"...Why?"

"What do you mean why...?" Jean replied.

"Jean, for god's sake. She doesn't even spare a glance at you."

"Don't you think I know that?" He said, voice shaky. "I'm well aware that Mikasa will never feel the same way about me."

Bile was scratching at your throat. God, you hate Jean Kirstein.

Hate him, hate him, hate him.

Every time he still went on about Mikasa all it did was shatter your heart. Why did you have to be stuck in the middle of this?

Why did you have to love a man who was in love with another? Mikasa had kindly let him down so many times.

That's what made it worse you suppose. The fact she paid him complete dust and he still was fawning over her.

You remember sobbing into your sister's lap, bawling like a baby when it hit you that Jean was in too deep with this infatuation.

"Don't you know it riles men up more if you flat-out reject them?" Your sister giggled as she gently smoothed the back of your head.

Love isn't transactional. You didn't expect Jean to throw himself at your feet when you did basic acts of human kindness such as accompanying him to help his mother in the hospice.

But there was always this twinge of hurt. Everything you do isn't good enough for him.

"Whatever."

"Why do you care anyway?"

You were about to turn on your heel and scream in his face but it was no use.

"You're right, I shouldn't."

Jean stared at you blankly for a few moments, his breath rising sharply.

"Do I need another reason? It's just love. I've had feelings for her since freshman year and that doesn't just go away like you switching off a light."

Jean looked down in disappointment and frustration. He felt ashamed that he was like a lovesick teen at almost twenty-two.

Clearing your throat, you figured you might as well drop the bomb.

"Well...Reiner invited me to spend the summer with him."

Jean's demeanor changed instantly and his smile dropped from his face. He paused the pottery wheel, with his lips pursed.

"Oh yeah? Is that so?"

"Mhm. He's old money rich...and I've never been to Europe before." You said nonchalantly as you shrugged.

Jean's jaw tightened. Completely irritated.

"So...are you gonna go?"

"I mean...why not? I don't have plans and I'm not really wanting to head back home."

His expression betrayed his jealousy, failing to compose himself to not seem overbearing or controlling. He was struggling to hide his resentment of Reiner.

During the fall semester, you, Reiner and Jean were in a group for an assignment that counted for a good chunk of your grade.

Jean wasn't exactly an academic genius and neither were you, but you both knew when to pick yourselves up by the bootstraps and get down to work. Organizing meet-ups to plan things out. And he bailed each and every time.

Reiner Braun as cliché as it was, was the big man on campus.

His family gave regular donations to the college meaning he could mess around and get off with barely a slap on the wrist.

Jean couldn't bear it. On the rare occasions, Reiner bothered to show up, he'd goof off and a pet name from him to you would make you forget how much he was screwing the two of you over.

Not to mention Reiner was one the few people who still bothered to call Jean "Horseface".

Eventually, Jean and you submitted the work without Reiner's contribution. Jean scolding you not to add Reiner's name.

"So...you'll be spending the entire summer with him?"

"N-no!" You stuttered. "He's just...sweet!"

Jean gave you a look of contempt. He knew full well Reiner was nicknamed 'Virgin Killer'.

"Sweet? What because he invited you to his mansion? Because he called you pretty?" Jean said, almost mockingly.

"Why do you even hate him? He was chill during that project." You said nonchalantly.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jean hissed. "He was 'chill'?! He didn't do any of the work!" Jean protested. "And then he had the nerve to sit there and gloat like he did jackshit!"

"Jean, just come. I want you with me."

"No thanks." Jean said sharply.

"Why not? It's not often you get to stay at a mansion."

"This is stupid." Jean grumbled. "How long do we gotta stay?"

"He said three months."

"Three months?! Nope. I can't. Even if you're there, he's still a dick."

"Jean, your Mom told you not to come back and you know that. So just come with me, hm?"

"She's in pain and she doesn't have much time left. I can't just stand by and refuse to visit her. My mom needs me..."

"You know if you go back, she'll give you silent treatment."

"Yeah, she will...she always does that when I upset her."

"So why don't we just spend two weeks then? Huh?"

"Two weeks doesn't sound nearly as bad. But can you promise me we won't spend the whole time with that jerkoff?"

"Can't promise you that."

Jean let out a sigh as he seemed to relent as his anger and jealousy both subsided for the moment.

"But we're not hanging out with him all the time. We're doing our own thing and he doesn't need to be involved with us at all."

"It's his house!" You said with a disbelieving laugh.

"Just because his name is on the deed of the place doesn't mean he needs to be glued to our hip the whole time. We're gonna be there for two weeks. I don't see why we can't just hang out on our own."

"That's not very nice of you." You said curtly, hands on your hips.

"Well, it wasn't 'nice of him' when he didn't contribute anything to our project." He ran his fingers through his hair after he washed his hands in the metal basin with an air of defeat to his voice. "Do you really like this guy...?" He asked, an edge to his voice.

You didn't reply but the shy look on your face told him all he needed to know.

"Just....don't fall for his bullshit. He's gonna hurt you. I’ll think about it."

"Like you haven't already hurt me enough." You muttered internally.

Little did Jean know, you had already popped your cherry. To Reiner.

After the group project, you and Reiner began to sleep with each other frequently.

You felt awful after Jean and you had submitted your work without Reiner. You wanted to add his name but Jean was adamant about it.

You were worried there would be bad blood between you and Reiner after it, but a few days after he jogged up to you as he called your name when you were leaving a lecture.

He asked you to be his study buddy but with the way he looked at you, it was clear as day he had an ulterior motive to it all.

"Really? I'm not that good of a student." You snickered.

"I don't need Einstein. Just...help me out a bit, yeah?" Reiner pleaded.

It was hard to say no to Reiner Braun. Everything about the man oozed sex appeal. The way he towered over you, the stubble and strong jawline.

You loved his fluffy blond hair the most.

"If you say so." You shrugged.

"Reiner, if you keep going on your phone there's no use of you staying here." You said as you faced him, in an agitated tone, when he finally came over to your dorm to start said study sessions.

And there was a slight twinge of jealousy when you caught a glimpse of Reiner's phone and he was sexting somebody.

He gave you a sheepish grin.

"Ah, sorry pretty baby." He switched off his phone and tossed it across the fleece duvet cover on your bed. "Look, you got my full attention now. See?"

You sighed as you could feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The pet name made your cheeks heat up. You cleared your throat.

"I told you we should've gone library. People can't concentrate in their bedrooms. Let alone bed."

"Oh, c'mon." Reiner smiled as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Why would I wanna be there when I can have you all to myself here?"

The million-dollar smile you saw too often when his team won a big game on campus, and they all threw him up in the air, his handsome face on the flat screen.

You backed up, the books and notes falling off the bed as Reiner nudged his forehead against yours as your back hit the headboard.

"I'm sure we could get up to more interesting things than this crap." He murmured. Not kissing you just yet. Breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"...Reiner." You stuttered. "We shouldn't-"

"What? Do you have a man, honey? He doesn't need to know."

"No...I'm single. It's just.."

"What? Don't tell me it's Horseface." Reiner snorted. "Everybody on campus knows about that tragic Eren, Mikasa and Jean triangle."

You winced at him saying it aloud.

"I just..." You pulled a face. "I'm a virgin, Reiner. I haven't even had my first kiss."

"You've got to be kidding me." Reiner said, eyes widening.

You felt humiliation wash over you.

"I know, it makes me-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there." Reiner said firmly as he pulled away from invading your personal space. "You're telling me a girl as beautiful as you hasn't lost her v-card? Let alone her first kiss? I refuse to believe that."

"Reiner, I have no reason to lie." You said with an uneasy laugh.

"That smile..." He said in awe as he cupped your jaw. "A girl like you should never go without kisses, honey. It's a damn shame."

Thinking back, it was a bit funny.

On paper it'd be easy to brush off Reiner's praise, you had seen him exchanging dirty messages with somebody whilst he was sat beside you.

But the way those light brown eyes full of warmth gazed at you, and the way his voice softened as he said that, it had to be authentic.

Or maybe you were naive.

Either way, that was the story of what led up to Reiner killing two birds with one stone by being your first kiss and taking your virginity.

Jean Kirstein loved jumping to conclusions. He thought Reiner Braun was a big bad wolf preying on you and you wanted to laugh his face about it.

There was a multitude of reasons why you kept Reiner as a fuck buddy.

You were sleeping with Reiner to spite Jean. Spite him for making you feel so inferior to Mikasa all these years. And you went along with being nothing but a hookup to Reiner.

The aspect was thrilling. The killing blow of Jean discovering this was going to be sweet. It was malicious of you but he had hurt you, albeit unintentionally.

Reiner liked you for many reasons.

He loved the fact that if he came on a specific day, you were strict about which candle you'd use.

If he came over on a Friday evening, the room would have the aroma of lime, basil and mandarin wafting around. If it was a Saturday, it'd be cedarwood and vanilla.

Your room was always so comforting to him, his large frame amongst the plush pillows and comforters as he basked in the orange fairy lights as very soft RnB was in the background.

There'd been a few times when you'd put him on some songs or even shared your playlist.

He enjoyed the fact he had a front seat to the transition of you always dressing up in something lacy and sexy that bared your nipples when he came over to settling for regular baggy shirts.

Reiner was lounging on your bed, shirtless with his arms propped underneath his head. You approached him, settling on the edge of the mattress.

Sitting on one knee and your leg on the ground. Leaning in to peck his lips gently. You were sure friends with benefits didn't do that but sharing affection with him was natural at this point.

His hand slipped under your shirt, the pad of his thumb gently massaging circles on your hip with a smile.

"You good?"

"Yeah." You settled on as you gazed at him.

"You excited for the trip?"

"I wanna invite Jean if that's okay."

Reiner tilted his head, furrowing his brows in bewilderment.

"...Why?" He responded with an awkward laugh.

"Look, Jean can be intolerable at times-"

"Understatement."

"But underneath all of that, there's a very sweet guy. Loyal. Responsible, caring. He's going through a lot at the moment, shit he's barely processed himself."

"Sounds like you have a crush on him." Reiner remarked.

"Reiner...!"

"I'm teasing! But I know he means a lot to you. I'm always down to invite people if he's not gonna be a dick." Reiner settled on as he cracked his knuckles.

"Why do you two even hate each other?"

"Look, it's not that I don't like the guy. He's just really competitive and always trying to one-up me. Plus, we both have a thing for you and it gets awkward when we're all in one room."

"He does not have a thing for me. You know he's hung up on her."

"Yeah, yeah. All I know is during the group work if I so much as looked at you, he was jumping down my throat." Reiner said as he shook his head.

"You're sweet, Rei." You giggled as you straddled his lap.

"Honey, don't start with that "Rei" crap. You only do that when you want something." He chuckled as he turned away when you kissed along his jaw.

"Why can't I just show you how much I appreciate you?" You jutted your lower lip out as you batted your eyelashes.

His large and calloused hand settled on the nape of your neck as he pulled you close to meet your lips.

You melted into him as your lips moved in a steady rhythm, and you gasped when you felt the warm, wet muscle of his tongue slip past the seam of your lips.

Skin alight and nipples achingly hard. Reiner knew all the ways to get you turned on and begged for him fast with just a swipe of his tongue.

"You still not used to that, baby?" He chuckled darkly as he flicked his tongue against yours.

"It is a bit of a surprise." You murmured, unable to stop smiling.

"God, you're adorable." Reiner grinned.

Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach. Getting off the mattress and pulling down his pants, you felt the wind knocked out of your chest as Reiner practically manhandled you to position you on all fours on the bed.

Never in your life had you felt this exposed when he yanked down your shorts and panties, tossing them onto the floor.

Smacking your plump ass and grinning impishly to himself at the recoil, he spread your cheeks wide, mouth salivating at your wet pussy and puckered asshole on display.

He chuckled playfully as he teased your heat with his tongue, absolutely relishing in the sweet sounds of your moans and gasps.

Continuing to worship your body with his mouth, alternating between licking and nibbling at your sensitive spots, sliding a finger inside.

"That's right, pretty baby. Let it all out for me." His hand kneading and palming at your breast, roughly as he intensified his oral assault.

"There you go..." He clambered on the mattress behind you, his cock throbbing with need as he whispered in your ear as he licked the shell of it.

He flipped you onto your back with a smug smile, ego-inflated. He grabbed his girthy shaft and began to rub his tip teasingly against your glistening folds.

You stammered his name.

His head was full with the way you gasped and writhed beneath him, your eyes pleading with him to fill you up.

"You want it?" He asked, his voice low. "Want me to fuck you until you can't walk straight?"

"Want you s'bad, Rei." You mewled.

"Take all of me. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock."

You winced at how harshly Reiner's fingers gripped onto your hips as he slammed into you almost ruthlessly.

Your fists bunched up the sheets as you felt his cock glide against your gummy walls, every vein and the way he slide into you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He kissed you deeply as you came, pulling out at the last moment so that he could coat your stomach with the sticky warm threads.

He leaned over you and, scooped up the hot cum from your stomach with his tongue, licking it up slowly and sensually.

When he gathered enough of it, he hovered over your lips and spat the cum into your mouth, watching as you swallowed it down.

"You're such a dirty girl," He said with a grin. "Wonder how our little Jean boy would react if he knew his best friend was a total slut, mhm?"

"Don't wanna talk about him right now." You muttered eyes half lidded from how spent you were as your felt your lips swollen and savored the taste of Reiner's cum.

"That's it. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He smiled as he gripped your chin, his thumb pressing underneath your tongue. It was slightly discomforting but thrilling all the same.

"Wanna keep you all to myself." He murmured as he released his grip and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

You hated it when he said things like this. It was only the heat of the moment. He has a whole roster of women waiting for him for the rest of the week.

Instead of speaking, you simply slid your hand into his and squeezed it.

"Can't wait to fuck you in every room." He chuckled darkly as he pulled you up against him, kissing your neck.

Your eyebrows furrowed when Reiner left the next morning. He was an early bird and preferred to be out before the dean caused a ruckus.

Why was Jean's mother calling you?

"Hi darling." She cooed. "I hope I didn't wake you too early. I know Jeanie is probably fast asleep."

"Nah, it's fine. I was up anyways. How are you?" You responded as you fished for the discarded clothes across your bedroom's carpet.

"Nothing to complain." She snickered. "Jean's been pestering me about coming here."

"I told him to drop it."

"I know that boy is stubborn. He dropped something about you inviting him to stay at some college friend's mansion?"

"He did? He seemed like he didn't wanna go at all."

"Oh, he doesn't. It was just because I asked about you." She said plainly.

"You and Jean would make a lovely couple."

This was a sentence that popped up every single time you came to Jean's mother's home or even called. She even said it in the presence of the both of you, resulting in Jean to stutter and grow crimson red.

"I just worry about him. It makes me sound selfish, but I wanted to have grandchildren before I go." She sighed. "But time is a luxury for me."

"I get it. But...Jean is Jean. He has eyes for another."

Jean being a father at twenty two would've been hilarious.

"That's a pity. Well, just do me a favor and try to persuade him to go to your little friend's house."

"I'll-"

“Now who was it?” You groaned internally, yanking the door open.

You gave Jean a one over as he loomed over you.

"You can tell him yourself." You said wryly as you shoved your phone into Jean's hand.

"Ma, stop calling Y/N every time you can't reach me!" He groaned as he followed in after you.

After him squabbling with his mom, he hung up and turned to face you with a scowl.

"Why was Reiner leaving here?" He asked.

You shrugged.

"He's probably seeing somebody in these dorms." You lied through your teeth. "What brings you here?"

"I'll come with you."

"How long?"

"Two weeks."

"Alright. Deal." You smiled as you pinched his cheek. "Don't do your energy vampire crap."

"Shut up." He snapped.

author’s note: first chapter out YAYAYA 🌚 lawl the ride is gonna be wild so strap in. all of em are a mess but we move ANYWAYSSS TY FOR READING IF U GOT THIS FAR LOL REBLOGS N COMMENTS ALWAYS APPRECIATED 😁

#aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #reiner braun x reader #aot x female reader #aot smut #jean kirstein #reiner braun #reiner smut #jean angst #aot jean #jean kirschstein #jean kirschstein x reader #reiner angst #aot x y/n #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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