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lacroixwh0r3 · 7 months

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The First Taste (p.2)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's the second day at the lake and you meet some people that live in the neighborhood.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON (sorta? Just gonna leave it to be safe), heavy sexual tension, pet names, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), voyeurism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, Bill, Frank, and Tess appearance, use of Y/N (1x), jealousy, degradation, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): Skin by Mac Miller

PART 1 PART3

A/N: I am sooo sorry for taking so long with this one, life has been crazy and weird, but I already have plans for the next part hehe. Also, this is probably all over the place...I wrote some parts of this high lol

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy my pookies!<3

Trying to act normal around Joel was a bit of a struggle for you.

It was the second day of the trip and he was completely normal during breakfast—he laughed and joked with everyone, seeming a little more lively than the day before. It didn't seem like he had seen or heard anything last night. And if he did, he was being very closed—lipped about the whole thing, which you were grateful about that because you'd probably die from embarrassment.

Sarah had done the honors of waking up early and making breakfast this morning, which consisted of pancakes and eggs. It was something simple and everyone enjoyed it, meanwhile, you could hardly touch your plate. Not because the food wasn't good, but because you were too occupied with staring at Sarah's dad, the man you had fantasized about the night before. It seemed that no one was even paying attention so you assumed that no one would notice your lingering eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria had quickly caught onto your crush on the older Miller brother, yet she never said anything. Not even to Tommy, her husband. She sat there quietly as she watched you watching him. She really thought nothing of it other than a simple crush and from what she could tell from Joel's stoic attitude, the feelings were not mutual. However, Maria didn't know that Joel was beginning to grow a desire for you—he could hide it better than you.

You were glad that Sarah has been too busy typing away on her phone to even pay attention.

“Y’all had fun last night?” Joel asked as he peered over at the three that went out last night, but mainly looking over at Maria.

Joel was interested in their night, but he also knew how Tommy was after a few drinks. After Tommy and Maria had gotten married, it was obvious that he matured, but he still had his moments.

“It was lots of fun—there was good live music and good drinks there,” Maria said to him as the other two just nodded their heads in agreement.

"We actually ran into Bill and Frank while we were there, they were with a friend...what was her name again?" Tommy asked as he tried to recall the unknown woman's name.

Joel didn't know much about Bill and Frank outside of the fact that they were married and lived next door. During the very brief encounter with the two yesterday, he could tell that Frank was the outgoing one out of the two and Bill was more reserved and not too keen on strangers—Joel didn't blame him, he was the same way too.

"Her name was Tess." Your father reminded Tommy as he took a quick sip of his coffee.

"Right, it was Tess!" Tommy said before speaking up again, "I think you'd like her, Joel...she's your type." he said slowly to his older brother.

This instantly piqued everyone's interest—Sarah's head had snapped up from her phone, while your eyebrows raised with surprise. Joel didn't need any convincing because he instantly shook his head after Tommy said that, letting him know that he wasn't interested.

"Oh come on, Dad!"

"You can't be serious."

"Joel!"

With these responses from Sarah, your dad, and Tommy at the same, Joel scowled at them. Meanwhile, you just sat there silently as you picked at the food on your plate with your fork. For some reason, you were happy that Joel had turned down Tommy's suggestion.

"Tommy is right, Joel, I think you and her would get along well and she's beautiful," Maria shrugged at Joel. "You should meet her and get to know her first."

He hadn't dated in a very long time and hadn't been interested in dating either. He decided that he would agree to get everyone off his back

"Fine, I'll meet her," Joel said as he put his head down and looked up at you. From the corner of Joel's eyes, he can see his daughter and Tommy high-five each other from across the table, while you looked at him with an unreadable expression.

You didn't think that he would agree that easily, but it didn't matter. You couldn't get jealous over someone who isn't yours.

"Great! Tommy and I will go over there to invite them over for this evening and we'll be sure to tell them to invite Tess," Maria winks at Joel.

Before Joel could respond, he was interrupted by Sarah's phone. it began to blow up with messages by the second. Sorry—she said as tried to silence it until eventually, the person called her, making her answer the phone before telling the person on the other line to hold on. Joel was about to scold her until she cut him off, "I gotta take this, I'll be right back. Girl problems!" she tells him with a sheepish expression as she hopped off her chair and started to loudly to talk to the person on the phone as she walked up the stairs to her room.

You all heard her yell into the phone to her friend about some boy before her words became intelligible. You stifled your laugh as you watched the look of defeat washed over Joel's face and he shook his head.

"That girl," Joel whispered, making everyone at the table laugh a bit. When he heard you laugh, he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, and you did the same.

The split moment between the two of you was briskly intervened by your dad.

"What did you two get into last night?"

You were about to make up some bullshit lie about what you had done last night before you stopped yourself and began to internally freak out because you remembered that Joel caught you smoking weed yesterday and he could easily tell your dad right now if he wanted to. You looked over at Joel with silent pleading eyes not to tell your dad what he saw, but he just looked at you with a blank stare as he proceeded to answer your dad's question.

"Nothing really, I think this one found out there's a balcony connected to her room, you should ask her about it," Joel said before finishing the rest of his food on his plate as he looked over at you. You felt everyone turn their attention to you, making you feel like your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest after Joel said that.

"Oh yeah? How was it, honey?" Your dad asked.

You felt like you had the words guilty written across your forehead, lying was not your strongest suit. You looked around the table and gulped down your spit, noting how amused Joel looked as he watched you become a nervous wreck.

You realized how insane you must've looked at that moment and cleared your throat before speaking up, "it was cool," you said in a composed manner.

"It was just 'cool'?" Your dad asked you, confused by your short response.

There you go again, embarrassing yourself in front of Joel.

"I mean the view was really nice from there, I liked it a lot," you shrugged. Your dad let out a hum, letting you know he was a little more satisfied with your response, making you relax. You looked over at Joel to see him looking at you with a discreet smug look on his face.

...

You had eventually finished their breakfast, to which Joel offered to wash everyone's dishes. Your dad got up from the table with a groan as he grumbled about going to the couch to rest for a bit, while Tommy and Maria headed over to Bill and Frank's house.

You decide to help Joel bring the dishes over to the sink.

"I can help you with that," You tell Joel as placed the mugs down and stood next to him by the sink, grabbing the drying towel that sat on the counter before looking up at him

"I got this, darlin'. You go sit and relax yourself," he said reassured you, yet you made no attempt to move. You shamelessly checked out Joel, watching as he focused on the dish, not even sparing you a glance. He could feel your gaze on him, but he said nothing to you. You peaked down and saw as he gripped the plate with his strong hand as the other rubbed the soap around the plate, the suds were dripping down his wet hand.

You pushed whatever thoughts that were about to appear in your head and looked back up at Joel. "It's fine, Joel. You wash, I'll dry," You tell him. He stops scrubbing before looking back at you, letting out a sigh, and going back to what he was doing.

You said nothing to him as you dried the dishes and Joel said nothing to you as well. There was this weird, awkward tension that lingered between you two. You got a feeling that Joel wanted to say something, he was just waiting on the right time to say it. You decided to break the silence first.

"Thanks for-um-for not saying anything to my dad, by the way,"

"That was nothing, sweetheart. Didn't wanna get you in trouble," was all he said. You weren't sure what to say after that so it went back to being silent.

Joel rinsed off the plate then passed it to you before clearing his throat and speaking up. "So, uh, how'd you sleep last night?" He asked you lowly and passed the plate to you. As you open your mouth to respond and go to reach for the plate, your body stills and your words get stuck in your throat. You had registered what he had said to you.

He was so casual with his words; to anyone else in this house, it didn't seem like anything, it was just Joel asking about you. However, you both knew there was a deeper meaning.

Joel new favorite thing was making you flustered-saying things to you that would catch you off guard and just leaving you hanging. He absolutely loved it.

"Oh come one, sweetheart, I asked you a question. It would be rude not to answer me," he said teasingly as he pushed the plate toward you some more so that you could take it.

You slowly reach for it as you watched him from the corner of your eyes, afraid to even turn your head to him. "I-I slept pretty well. Wha-what about you?" You asked him. You were nervous as hell and you could feel your hands shaking, so you decided to start drying the wet plate in your hand to cover it up.

"Me too, sweetheart," he said to you. You thought that was going to be the end of that conversation, but no, he kept going. "You know what though?" He asked you before turning to face you, got close, and bent his head down slightly to catch your eyes, but never did because your eyes were laser-focused on the now dry plate in your hand. You could feel his warm body close to yours.

"I was sitting on that balcony last night and heard some strange noises comin' from your room, had t'make sure you were alright before I went to bed." He said as he began to speak you again, "but I'm sure you were too busy to notice, right, darlin'?"

Kill me, you thought to yourself, just fucking kill me.

He was right, you were too busy too notice, but you refused to admit that to Joel. Just as you were about to lie to him again, you think back to the night before when he had called you out on lying to him about smoking.

You sat the plate down with the other plates and looked up at Joel, "I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently as you turn your head to look at him and gave a tight, faux smile, which he returned as well.

This motherfucker.

"Mmm, I'm sure you don't, sweetheart." He says before the phony smile dropped from his face as he got closer to you. Your eyes flicker over to where your dad was sitting, making sure that he didn't see what was going on, before going back to Joel's dark ones.

"But I know what I saw when I looked in that room. I saw the way you fingering that wet cunt, moaning my name," he whispered to you menacingly. You suddenly feel his damp finger gliding across the back of your arm, causing goosebumps to spread around your body. You tried to move put some distance between the two of you, but he followed. "Cummin' all over those fingers while you thought of me."

There is no way your dad's friend is admitting that he watched you finger fuck yourself, while you moaned his name at that. It didn't feel real to you.

You had yet to say anything back to Joel, so he kept going. "Made me cum so hard in my hand. I couldn't help myself, you looked so perfect touching yourself." Instantly, you gasped loudly before looking over at your dad again, and luckily he wasn't paying a lick of attention. The sound of the running water must've covered it up.

Joel's confession should've disgusted you, but it didn't—in fact, it turned you on a lot. Some sick part of you liked that he jerked off while watching you.

Finally, you had gotten the courage to speak up. "You're a sick fucking bastard, Joel," you told him as you push his arm from you and your face scrunched with false disgust. "A sick pervert," You spit out at him as you turn your body to him and point close to his face.

You refused to feed his ego, which was already inflated.

Your words did nothing to him, not even a little bit. "Oh, honey..." he said as his large hand rested on your lower back, "You were the one moanin' my name last night, but I'm the pervert? Now that ain't fair," Joel smirked.

You scoff before you speak again. "Get your hands off me now before I tell my dad."

Instead of letting you go, Joel pulls you into his body, making your hands come up to his chest so you can push away. Still, he didn't budge and kept pulling you closer to the point you could feel the hardness of his cock against your stomach.

What a sick man he is.

"Do it, baby, and I'll tell 'em all about what I saw and heard last night," he says as his hand drifts down to get a quick squeeze of your ass.

"You liked thinkin' about me fuckin' you? Makin' you squirm while you cum all over my fat cock." He whispered. You saw how Joel's eyes darkened with desire as he said this. Truthfully, it was giving you a strong indescribable feeling deep down in your stomach, reaching your core.

For a brief moment, the disgusted expression on your face faltered, your eyes had batted open and shut, and you let out a shaky sigh as you looked up at Joel—hopeful that he hadn't seen your quick moment of weakness. Except, he did. You looked back up at him only to see him deeply observing your face with a small smirk on his face as if he had just accomplished something great.

"You liked that?" He asked you cockily with his hand still resting on your ass. You just rolled your eyes at him as you tried to push yourself away from him a second time. "You like it when I talk to you like that?"

You didn't even have to answer him because he already knew the answer.

"You need to let me go before someone catches us, Joel," You tried to change the subject, but this only made his smirk bigger.

"Aw come on, sweetheart, no one is gonna see us," Joel insisted before looking over at your dad. "They're all doin' their own thing

His actions after this had caught you off guard.

You can feel his big hand trail up your body, while his other one still rested on your ass to keep you close to him; going from the back of your waist to the front and going up to your breasts, giving them a quick, firm squeeze as he cupped them over your shirt. You whimpered as you looked down at the sight between you and looked back up at him.

Joel's hand moved up again, but this time he wrapped his fingers around your neck. He loved the softness of your neck against his rough calloused hand.

His long fingers flexed around your neck, growing firmer as he held your face up at an angle just under your jaw as he bent down. "Or I can take you upstairs if you want..." Joel's grip tightened some more. "Make sure to take my time with you, darlin'," He said as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Not because of his hand around your throat—Joel made sure he wasn't choking you to death, but because of his words.

Joel had this seductive nature about him and it was obvious that he knew how to use it to his full advantage. He could probably get you to do anything he wanted.

Fuck—you couldn't believe that you were actually thinking about saying yes to Joel after the way he spoke to you. But again, there was some sick part of you that got a kick out of the way he spoke to you. You weren't exactly sure what it was about Joel that you allowed him to speak to you this way, but if this were anyone else, you were sure that you would have absolutely freaked out on them.

"Fuck, Joel," you whined as you felt him inhale the scent of your perfume that you spritzed a little below your ear earlier this morning.

"Mmm, you smell so good, baby, just wanna taste you," He murmured, taking in your scent. His mouth was so close to your neck, you wanted him to place his plush lips onto it. You wanted to feel the prickly feeling of his facial hair on your neck while he sucked, licked, and kissed it.

"Sweetheart!" You heard your dad call out, instantly pulling you out of the half-conscious state that Joel had you in. Your eyes shot wide open as quickly pushed Joel away from you, making release your neck and causing him almost fall to the ground as he stumbled back. Shit—he cursed out as he caught himself. You really didn't mean to push him that hard, but you were deathly afraid of your dad catching sight of his closest friend choking his daughter behind his back.

"Uh-yeah? I mean, yes, dad?"" You said as you scrambled to fix your clothes and make yourself seem as normal as possible. The adrenaline rush made you feel like your heart was damn near beating out of your chest and made your hands shake with fear.

"Y'all still ain't done with the dishes yet?" He asked, making you tried to voice out some lame excuse, but was unable to. Instead, all you could do was make these odd sounds.

"Anyway, you don't mind gettin' me a glass of water, do you? This damn headache won't go away," he groaned out. You felt relief at the fact that he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice.

"N-No, I'll-uh-get it for you in a sec," You told him as you looked over at Joel. He just looked at you with a faint worrisome expression on his face—his breathing was just as hard. You gave him an apologetic look before getting the glass of water for your dad.

You made no attempt to look at Joel as you brushed past him, you were too ashamed to look his way. Your hand was still trembling as you walked over to your dad, who was sprawled out on the couch, and handed him the water.

"Here you go,"

"Thanks, sweetheart!" He gave you a weak smile before downing the water, to which you returned as well. You plopped down next to your dad on the large couch as you heard Joel shut the water off in the kitchen and shuffled his way up the stairs.

You sat there feeling guilty as your dad talked to you about whatever was on his mind.

Even though you and Joel didn't go all the way, it still wasn't right to think of him in that way or allow him to do those things to you. You decided that you were going to stop thinking about joel for good.

...

Bill and Frank were great, though Frank was a little more lively. The moment you greeted them Frank gave you a quick side hug with a bright smile on his face, which caught you be surprise, and Bill just stood awkwardly next his husband as he introduced himself to everyone.

And then there was Tess.

You along with Sarah watched the painful sight in front of you as her and Joel introduced themselves to each other. You tried not to listen to their conversation, but you were curious and you couldn't help it. They barely speaking a word to each other besides saying their names and where they were from, which made you a little happy because it meant Joel wasn't interested.

Thank god.

"Well, that was a fail," you heard Sarah say not-so quietly, making you let out a chuckle.

Then Tess came over to us, making you both straighten up. From the moment you met her, she was nothing but nice to you and Sarah. She introduced herself to the two of you, smiled, and shook your hands.

"I'm Sarah, Joel's daughter," Sarah beamed at her.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Tess smiled warmly at the young girl before turning to you, "And what's your name, sweetheart?" She asked. Her calling you sweetheart caught you by surprise honestly.

"Oh, i'm Y/N...that man right there is my dad," you said as you pointed to your father who was a little behind Tess, making her laugh a bit.

"Well, it's lovely meeting you as well." She softly stroked your arm, causing you to tremble with nervousness. Just as she finished her sentence, your dad and Tommy suggested that all the older adults go and hang out in the back while there was still light, to which they all agreed.

"Hopefully I'll catch up with you girls later?" she asked. Sarah and you just nodded your head before she gave the two of you one last smile before walking to the back.

That was weird, you thought for a moment.

"Tess seems nice," you said now that the house was completely silent, making Sarah nod her head in agreement.

"Yeah, she did, too bad my dad didn't seem interested in her," she shook her head, "anyway, what do you wanna do now that it's just us?"

"Mmm," You tried to think about what you could do with her, "I think Maria has some cookie dough in the fridge, you wanna bake cookies and play card games?" You asked the young girl.

"Sure!"

The two of you walked to the kitchen—you grabbed the cookie dough from the fridge and the baking sheet from the bottom cabinet. "You mind preheating the oven?"

Sarah walked over to the oven before staring at it, confused on how to use it. "Um, I think you're gonna have to do it. I'm not sure how to even work this thing," she turned to you.

You let out a giggle as you go to preheat the oven. After you did that, you stood next to Sarah as you both began to place cookies onto the baking sheet.

"You know we're gonna have to make a lot, right?" Sarah giggles out.

"And why is that?"

"My dad is obsessed with chocolate chip cookies," She confessed to you, "he'd probably eat them all if you let him."

This made you laugh.

Joel Miller liking chocolate chip cookies came to somewhat as a surprise to you. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy sweets, but according to his daughter he did and you found it cute.

Once you two had finished putting the last pieces of cookie dough on the sheet, you picked it up and went to open the oven. "Can you put on a time for 15 minutes, please?" You asked her as you place them into the oven.

"Sure," Sarah then began the timer for the cookies right as you closed the oven.

"So what was up with that phone call you got earlier? Sounded pretty serious," you asked her as you sat down at the island next to her.

Sarah lets out a loud sigh before talking, "where do I even start," she groaned. She began to tell you all about the drama amongst her friend group—supposedly, her best friend, Lillian, got with their ex-best friend's current boyfriend and now it's a whole situation. Sometimes you would ask a question or even give your two cents about the situation.

"And you wanna know the kicker to all this? Him and Lillian used to date last year and our ex-best friend got with him while they were dating, so we kicked her out the friend group," Sarah tells you. As soon as you let out a dramatic gasp, the alarm for the fifteen minutes had went off.

You got up and went to the oven, "wait, why would Lillian get back with him again? That doesn't seem smart," You say as you grab the mits from the countertop and took the cookies out the oven.

"I don't know," Sarah sighs out, you couldn't help but to laugh at her frustration at the situation.

Teenagers are so funny.

"You guys are crazy," You tell her as you, "You should tell your friend to leave him alone, he seems like bad news,"

"I have, but she doesn't listen," Sarah said in a disappointed tone.

You just shrugged your shoulders, "cookies are done, we just gotta let them cool for a bit,"

Just as you were letting the cookies cool down, Sarah asked you about your high school experience. You began to tell her all about it—your friend group was small and you mostly stayed to yourself throughout the whole time there. You made sure to focus on your school work rather than getting wrapped up in the silly drama or with boys.

Bill walks into the house and asked where the bathroom was, which you point him to the direction where it was and he went on with his business.

A few minutes later, as you and Sarah were munching on the soft chocolate chip cookies, Bill comes back from the bathroom, "It smells delicious in here," he mumbles as he makes his way to the door.

"You can have some if you would like, Bill? We made sure to make enough for everyone," You told him as you give him a small smile.

"I shouldn't," he said reluctantly, but you quickly reassured him that he could have some if he wanted.

"Well if you insist," Bill grabs a napkin before taking two cookies and said a low thanks as he made his way outside with them.

"I bet they're all gonna come in here to get cookies," Sarah laughs as she finished up her cookie.

And she was right.

They all eventually crowded into the kitchen around the island as they devoured the cookies, nearly eating them all. In between their chews, they spoke loudly to each other.

You tried to engage in with conversation with them, but you were too busy watching Joel. You watched as he had his right arm wrapped loosely around his daughter's shoulders while the other one brought cookies up to his mouth—he looked relax right now.

And sexy too.

You didn't see that Tess was next to you until she spoke up.

"Thank you for the cookies by the way, they were really good," She said to you with a kind smile on her face as she looked at you. Her eyes lingered on your face for a little

"Oh-thanks! I-It was nothing really, we were just really bored and needed something to do," You laughed awkwardly, squirming with nervousness. You couldn't even make eye contact with her while speaking to her.

Tess made you feel nervous in ways that you couldn't describe. Not as nervous as Joel makes you, but close.

"No problem, sweetie,"

...

You were starting to fucking hate this.

Sitting here and pretending to not be affected by watching Joel flirt with the hot, older woman made you want to flip your shit.

You hated to admit it, but your dad and Tommy was right—Tess absolutely was Joel's type. She's hot, smart, a tough woman, yet she was kind, and most importantly, she is close in age to Joel. She was also kind of like the female version of Joel.

At first, there was this awkward tension between Tess and Joel that was almost hilarious to you, but it quickly dissolved as the evening progressed and the drinks began going, making it no longer funny to you.

You had to remind yourself that you decided to back off of Joel that morning, but whatever was happening between the two quickly made you forget about it.

After a little while of being around them in the kitchen after baking the cookies, you sat down on the couch to unwind for a bit. However, that quickly ended when Joel and Tess decided to join on the couch right across from you.

While everyone was still sitting around the kitchen island, listening to music and laughing, you were sipping on your beer and looking at them with no expression on your face.

You didn't even like beer, you just needed something to drink on right now.

Joel was relaxed as he spoke to her, with his muscular thighs spread wide open as he held onto the beer in between them while the other arm rested on the head of the couch. He looked so relaxed and comfortable talking to her.

Sometimes, your eyes would sweep down his body, causing you to catch sight of his pants-covered bulge. You weren't going to lie and say that you weren't looking because you absolutely were.

Next to him was Tess, she sat closely to him with her legs folded up on the couch as she faced Joel, giving him her undivided attention. They both spoke in hushed whispers to each other, occasionally letting out some laughs.

She looked so beautiful as she sat there attentively listening to Joel as she gave him a smirk and flipped her long hair to the side, giving him a view of her neck.

God, you hated how jealous this made you.

And the worst part of this all is that he hadn't given you an ounce of attention since she got here. Ever since the incident in the kitchen this morning, he was distant and didn't pay you any mind—matter-of-fact, Joel just pretended that you didn't exist and that made you even more mad. Whenever you were around, he would avoid eye contact with you.

While you were staring down Joel and Tess, Sarah had suddenly appeared next to you as she plopped down on the seat next to you.

"You alright?" She asked you as you took another sip of your beer. "You look pissed right now."

Was it that obvious? If Sarah can notice the look on your face, that meant so did everyone else.

"Oh, me? I'm good, just some boy problems back at college," You lied to Sarah so she wouldn't know the real reason you looked mad.

Okay—was all she said to you, sounding unconvinced, but didn't push any further.

"My dad and Tess look pretty comfortable now," She leaned over and whispered to you. "Never seen him this way with a woman before,"

Honestly, this didn't seem surprising to you at all.

From the way Joel seemed reluctant to even get to know Tess earlier and the awkwardness when she had gotten here made it very apparent to you. Had you not seen any of this, you would've thought that he was quite the ladies man from the way he spoke to you whenever the two of you were alone.

"Interesting," was all you said as you took a sip of your beer again.

"Anyway, you wanna go to my room and watch a movie?" Sarah asked. "I'm gettin' bored of them already," You laughed and nodded your head in agreement and began to get off the couch, still watching the two across from you. Still, Joel continued to talk to the lady without even spairing you a glance.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the steps to go upstairs.

Fuck Joel.

...

It was getting late and Sarah eventually fell asleep a some time after you started the second movie. She was knocked out cold. You were tired as well, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either so you decided to go to your room for the night.

Before quietly slipping out of Sarah's room, you made sure to put the blanket over her and turn off the tv. Afterwards you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, which was just a tank top and your underwear, before getting into bed.

For a while, you laid in the dark and scroll through Instagram while you blasting music through your headphones. You were tired, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either.

You suddenly felt the vibrations of a door slamming shut and heard the muffled sounds as well, making you yank your headphones off. It almost scared you to death.

You waited a moment to hear for any sounds that might follow up after. It was silent for the most part besides the sound of Joel's heavy footsteps next door, he must be getting ready for bed. You also assumed that Bill, Frank, and Tess had went back to their place because you didn't hear the music playing downstairs anymore or the sound of them talking loudly.

You were about to put your headphones back on until you heard Joel start to talk. You thought that he must've been on the phone or talking to himself until you heard the tone of a females voice—it was Tess. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you hear them talking back and forth to each other.

At this point, you were holding your breath as you tried to eavesdrop, completely interested as to what they were doing in Joel's room together.

Joel must've said something funny to Tess because she laughed fairly loud at whatever he said.

He isn't that funny, you begrudgingly thought to yourself.

One of them flopped down on the bed, causing the bed to creak and the headboard hit against the wall. And because the beds were on the same wall, you could hear almost everything. They continued to talk for a while until it went completely silent and the bed creaked again.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions because you weren't sure what was going on in that room and you and Joel aren't anything so it really shouldn't matter to you. You also felt weird sitting there in the dark, snooping on Joel and Tess so you decided to try and get some sleep.

You readjusted in the bed and closed your eyes—occasionally tossing and turning because it felt like there was a million thoughts going through your mind right now.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard faint sounds of the bed screeching and the headboard thumping against the wall. The sounds were unbroken until Tess lets out a low moan, causing the noise to come to an abrupt stop and Joel shushes her.

He was fucking her and you were hearing it.

Joel says something to her and the noise continues again, this time it was a little fast. Your heart was beating against your chest just as fast, if not faster. The sound of your heart beating almost muted the sounds of Joel and Tess fucking.

Joel's grunts got a little louder as Tess lets out a few fucks here and there along with a couple moans. You listen closely to the plap-plap-plap sound that were smothered by the wall.

There's no way that you were the only one hearing this because they were not quiet.

It probably would've been best if you put your headphones back on, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. There was something about it that made you furious, yet aroused. It shouldn't have, but it did and so much to the point that you felt a throb begin to form at your core.

You needed to relieve the ache somehow and suddenly this bright idea popped into your head. You slipped your underwear off and threw them somewhere off the bed before grabbing a pillow as you get onto your knees on the bed and tucked in the sides a bit, and straddled it.

You began to steadily rocking your hips back and forth, feeling your folds grind against the pillow and the wetness spreading as you became increasingly wet, as you tried to match the pace. Quiet whimpers escaped your mouth though you were trying to stay silent.

You felt like a creep listening to them and you knew you would feel ashamed of your actions later, but right now you didn't care, you just wanted to touch yourself.

At that moment, you thought back to earlier, remembering the way that Joel sat on the couch, sprawled out as he talked to Tess. You imagined him under you, seated the same way while you were on top of him grinding against his hard cock. His warm, rough hands would be gripping at your waist underneath your tank top, as he guided your hips. One of his hands would trail up to your braless breast and cup it while he would thumb at your erect nipple.

You grab onto the headboard, picturing it was his shoulders you were holding onto.

"Feel so good, daddy," You breathed out as if he were actually under you. "Makin' me feel soo good,"

"Atta girl, you like grindin' your pussy against this cock? Huh, baby?" he would ask you before letting out a loud grunt as he tried to hold back from cumming over his stomach and between your thighs.

Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you imagined this and your hips move faster against the pillow, making the headboard hit the wall harder.

"Yes, Joel," you moaned out as if he were actually there, not even realizing how loud you were.

You assumed you weren't being loud at all, but in actuality, you were. Tess and Joel had heard everything from the moment you started. Due to the wall and the fact that you were just so caught up in your own fantasies, you couldn't even hear them talking about you.

"S-she can hear us, Joel," Tess groaned out to Joel, but not once did Joel stop his thrust. He kept going because knowing that you were pleasuring yourself turned him on.

"Yeah? Let her hear," Joel purred as he felt Tess pulse around his cock. His thrust got faster, intensifying the harsh sound of the frame striking against the neighboring wall.

Just on the other side of the wall, you were hunched over listening to them and humping against the poor pillow. "P-Please, daddy, don't stop," You shook your head as you go to grip the pillow under you so you could get more friction. You could feel the sweat dripping down your face from how intense this whole thing was, but you didn't dare to stop.

You were barely listening to Joel and Tess anymore as you were close to your orgasm.

"Don't fuckin' stop," your torso was stiff as you opened your legs wider and pushed your core down on the pillow harder. Your toes wiggled and curled as you were seconds away from cumming. You whimpered Joel mindlessly the closer you got.

You needed this badly, you need him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cumming," was the last thing you rasped before biting down on your lip. Not once did you stop nor slowed down the thrust of your hips as you shook with pleasure. You kept going as you chased your climax, hardly even breathing.

Right after you, Joel came shortly after.

"Aw, fuck!" he grunted loudly as he held onto Tess' hips. His seed spilling into the condom. Because his thoughts were so hazy at the moment and the only thing he could think of you, he nearly moaned out your name while fucking Tess, but thankfully he stopped himself before it could roll off his tongue.

"Shit, Joel," Tess groaned, cumming around his cock. Joel stayed behind her for a moment, still holding onto her buckling hips.

Eventually, Joel pulls out and collapses next to her before pulling the condom from his cock, tying it, and sat it on the nightstand. Tess does the same. They both say nothing to each other as they lay there.

Joel wondered what you were doing now.

Meanwhile, you were still trying to catch your breath, still holding onto the headboard as you tried to calm yourself.

You heard the talking as they got out the bed and moved around the room to put on their clothes you assumed.

Finally, Joel's door opens and you can hear them walking out of the room and go down stairs.

The front door opens as they quietly exchanged a few words to each other.

Joel eventually shuts the door and makes his way back upstairs. Once again, you could hear his heavy footsteps as he trot up the steps.

You decided that once he goes back in his room, you were going to dash to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on yourself.

You were about to get out of the bed so you could clean yourself until heard Joel's feet about to shuffle past your door before he stopped right in front of it. You sat down on the middle of the bed, waiting for him to go to his room.

Joel hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should knock on your door, but he decided to do it anyway.

Joel's hard knuckles knocks at your door making your body go stiff. You were going to pull the blanket over your body and answer him, but you decided to pretend to act like you were sleeping.

You thought that this worked until your door suddenly swung open, revealing the large outline of Joel Miller. You scrambled to pull the duvet over the bare bottom-half of your body, hoping that he didn't see anything.

He stood there a moment before speaking up. "You good, sweetheart?" Joel asked you. He obviously knew you were awake.

It took you a few seconds before you replied as you were trying to calm your beating heart after he scared you. "Yeah, i'm fine, Joel," you said, thinking that he would just fuck off and go back to his room, he didn't. Instead, he came fully walked into the room and closed the door behind himself before making his way over to the bed.

"W-What the hell are you doing, Joel?" You asked him, caught off guard that he would just come in here.

Joel was going to speak until he realized something got caught onto his slipper as he approached the edge of your bed, making him suddenly stop and look down. Because it was dark in the room, he could tell what it was, but it was obvious that it was a piece of clothing. He bends down and grabs it, feeling a slight dampness to it before coming back up and holding the material out in front of him.

Joel goes to flick on the lights and your heart flutters when you see what he was holding. You look at Joel with a panic look on your face and see that he had this surprise, yet smug expression on his face.

It was your fucking underwear that you threw off.

"Look what we have here, sweetheart," He says as he walks closer to the bed, making you clutch the duvet closer to your body. "These yours?" He asked you even though he knew the answer.

"Can you put them down, please?" You pleaded with him silently as your face burned with embarrassment. He doesn't answer you, instead he brings the damp fabric up to his nose and inhales your scent, closing his eyes as he took it in. You let out a squeak, surprised that he was doing this.

Again, if this were anyone else you'd probably be creeped out by this, but there was something about Joel that made you want him badly.

"Smells so fuckin' good," he says as he pulled them away from his nose. You just look at him, mouth agape as he opens his eyes, balls up your panties into his hand, and sits on the edge of the bed. As if your grip couldn't get any tighter, you pull at the duvet again, hoping that Joel wasn't seeing anything under it. He immediately noticed you doing this and looked at you curiously with his dark eyes, making you feel nervous.

"What's under the blanket, baby?"Joel asked as he pointed at your lap.

You shook your head and avoided eye contact with him, "please don't make me do this, Joel," you begged him again, but he didn't budge one bit.

"Oh come on. Be a good girl and show me what you're hiding under there," He said sternly. You didn't need much convincing because you quickly gave into his demand. You slowly move the blanket off of you, shaking as the feeling the air hits between your legs.

Joel groans at the sight. "Baby, look at you," his deep southern voice says so softly as he brings his warm on on top of your thigh, making your thighs clench together.

"No no no, you don't close those legs unless I tell you, you understand me?" You nodded your head and let him pull your legs open.

"So beautiful up close," He groans out. His hand moved to the inside of your thigh and slid up, making you whimper. Your core throbbed again, longing for him, but he never did.

"Touch me, daddy, please." You whispered to him, so desperately.

"Mmm, not tonight, baby," He says, while his fingers continued to tease you. "Can you do somethin' for me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, Joel," you said and nodded your head without a second thought, ready to do anything he asked you.

"I want you to show me how you were touchin' yourself when you were listenin' to me and Tess,"

You stilled once he said this, you didn't know that he heard you moaning. "W-what?"

"Don't be so surprised, girl. You weren't bein' very quiet." He teased you before speaking up again. "Now, I want you to show me,"

You sat there for a moment, embarrassed that you were about to do this in front of Joel. You grab the cum-soaked pillow before getting up onto your knees on the bed and stradling it, trying not to look at him.

"Look at me." He orders. You look at him, feeling nervous as he watched you with his intense gaze. "Now, ride the pillow. Slowly."

At first, you were reluctant as you began to slowly grind against the pillow, so embarrassed at the moment that you couldn't even enjoy the pleasure. And the look on Joel's face made you want to die.

He brings his hand onto your thigh making your stop, "Relax yourself," he mutters.

You nod your head before you let out a loud sigh. You try to calm yourself down before you lean forward, making your back arch and held onto the pillow with one hand while the other kept you up.

You began to move your hips, this time feeling a little more comfortable as you did so. You let out a weak whine as the pillow grazed against your wet clit.

"Good, darlin', go a lil faster now,"

You didn't need any convincing with that, you instantly went faster, making the bed frame to knock against the wall.

Joel's cock jumped in his pants as he watched you with greed in his eyes. He wished he could take you right there, make you weep and bite into the pillow as he pounded into your wet pussy.

"Look at ya, humping that pillow like a slut," he groaned, thinking about you riding him the same way. "You like being a slut, don't you?" Joel asked you.

"Mmhmm—I love it so f-fucking much, Joel," You moaned as you convulse on the pillow, nearly cumming.

"P-please—" was all you said. You couldn't even get the words out of your mouth as the the uncontrollable waves of pleasure passed through your body.

"Please what, baby? What do you want?" He pressed for you to continue your sentence.

"Please touch me, I need to feel you right now," You grab Joel's hand from the bed and bring it up to your breast, taking him by surprise.

Such a needy girl, Joel thought as he felt your hard nipples through the cotton. He fumbled and teased at them before pinching your nipple, making you yelp loudly and your back arch more.

"Baby, you gotta be quiet or someone will hear you." He whispered to you, trying to get you to be quiet.

Instead of just being quiet, you shook your stubbornly, closed your eyes in pleasure, and bit your lips, loving the feeling you were experiencing right now.

"I don't give a fuck," You said as you breath out a humorless chuckle, after releasing your lip from your teeth.

The way you were acting right now in front of Joel surprised him a bit—it was different than the way you were this morning, even minutes ago. He didn't mind though, not one bit. Joel actually enjoyed seeing you this way. So wild, allowing your pleasure to take over.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum," You gasped out.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Joel teased. Mmhm, you whimpered in response as he releases your breast and starts to move his hand up your shirt, starting from your hips and going up your tank top. He palms your breast again, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin, and flicks your nipple hard.

"Come on, cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you moan for me," He eagerly said as he watched your body tremble, ready to fall apart for him. Your moans got louder and louder before your breathing hitched and got caught in your throat.

You came almost immediately, your body shook and your hand went to your clit as you keep on grinding on the pillow, intensifying your orgasm. "Daddy, oh fuu-shit!" you squeaked.

"Look at you, my pretty, slutty baby. Cummin' so hard f'me," he purred, but you couldn't get out your words. You were so overwhelmed that you nearly fell over as you tried to keep yourself up, but luckily you didn't.

Joel continued to spew out teasing comments as he egged on your climax, until you eventually calmed down a bit. He removed his hand from your shirt as your slumped against the bed with exhaustion.

He let out a chuckle as you face plant into the bed before giving your back some rubs as he tried to calm you down. You were breathing heavy as your body trembled and your hips rolled against the pillow, causing you to let out a dreamy moan.

"Oh darlin', come on, get up so you can lay down right...gonna hurt your back laying like that," Joel said to you softly. You were tired as hell and on the verge of falling asleep right there, so you stayed there for a little before getting up.

Once you did get up, you fell back into the soft pillows with your eyes closed as you felt yourself relax into them.

You can feel as Joel grabbed the pillow from that you humped from between your legs. You thought that he was going to put it to the side or something, but that wasn't the case at all.

"Oh, baby, look at the mess you made," you hear him say, almost moaning. Your eyes shoot open, which you catch him running his finger through your wetness on the pillow, bringing it to his mouth, and licking it off. He groaned the moment it touches his tongue, which made your eyes widen with shock and you let out a gasp.

To Joel, you tasted as good as you smelled and he loved it.

"Joel, why would you do that?" You asked him, shocked that he would do that.

He gives you a wide smirk, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "Why not, baby? You taste so good."

You say nothing after this, feeling flustered by his actions.

It was quiet between the two of you until you remembered that you didn't have anything on from the waist down.

You were tired, but you gathered the strength to get up from the bed.

"Where you goin', sweet girl?" Joel asked you as you made your way to your bag.

There's that name again. You loved it when he called you that.

"Just grabbin' some shorts," you looked over at Joel as you bent down to grab your shorts and put them on, feeling his eyes on you, watching you so intensely. "I can feel you watching me, Mr. Miller," you tease him.

"Mr. Miller, huh?" You turned around and made your way back to the bed to find Joel still watching you.

You just nodded your head as you plopped down onto the bed a lay down. You pat the spot next to you, trying to get him to lay down next to you, which he obviously got the hint.

"Want me to lay with you, darlin'?" He looked over to you, searching your face for permission.

You quickly nodded your head as you scoot over to make room for Joel, making him crack a small smile on his hard face.

God he looked so handsome when he smiled.

"Alright, baby."

Joel laid on his back on the pillow next to you, making readjust yourself as you snuggled into him with your head and hand resting on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing you closer to his body.

You laid there listening to his steady heart beat, your heavy eyelids almost closed.

You noticed that he had all the chances to touch you, even have sex with you, yet he never did and it made you wonder why.

Before you could stop yourself, you called his name."Joel?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked

You hesitated before speaking up again, afraid of what you might hear from him, but fuck it.

"Why won't you touch me?" You asked him curiously, the sleep was audible in your voice.

He was quiet for a moment, making your wrench with rejection, until he spoke up. "One day, baby. Just not right now, okay?"

You nodded your head against his chest before answering. "Okay," You said softly, feeling somewhat content with his response, but still feeling a little rejected.

At least he didn't say never, you thought to yourself.

"Good girl, now get some sleep." He said, making you nuzzle into his chest and close your eyes, almost instantly drifting to sleep as you felt his hard body under you.

============================================

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

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dyns33 · 3 months

Text

Family business

I still need to watch the show but I wanted to do a Alfie Solomons x reader. I'm sure all the characters are ooc, so sorry about that.

The good thing about being part of the Shelby family was that its members were very united because blood ties were sacred. The problem about being part of the Shelby family was the same thing.

Y/N often repeated it to herself, closing her eyes to keep her calm, while her brothers asked ridiculous or difficult things, considering that she didn't have the right to say no to them, just as they didn't have the right to tell her no either.

The fact that they didn't have the same mother didn't change anything. Their father may have been an asshole, but they were all Shelbys, united, hard-working, persevering, and here for each other.

They didn't often ask her things that would put her in danger. They were terribly protective of their little sisters, especially Arthur, but there were times when a feminine touch became essential to finalizing a deal or gaining someone's trust.

Almost no one knew that Y/N was a Shelby. Her mother had died when she was young and Polly had welcomed her into this strange world as soon as she learned that her idiot brother was her father. However, as soon as she was able to earn her own money, Y/N found a small place to live on her own, although she remained close to her family.

For Tommy, that made her perfect for a mission he'd had in mind for some time.

“I want you to become Alfie Solomons’ secretary.”

"Who ?" Y/N had asked, trying not to wince.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't trust easily, but he's been having trouble managing his business for some time, too many unforeseen events, too many incompetent people. You are competent. Earn his trust, become indispensable, listen to his conversations, read his letters, and brings us all important information."

Y/N didn't know what important information was, even less so since she still didn't know who this Alfie Solomons was when she showed up at his office. Her brothers had decided that it was best for her not to know too much, not because she might be afraid, but because the man was very good at seeing through people. It wasn't very reassuring.

However, at first glance, Mr. Solomons did not seem that terrible. He showed a big smile when he saw Y/N, opening his arms and inviting her to come and sit down, offering her tea during their interview and listening attentively to everything she said. Despite his broken back, he insisted on walking her to the door, lowering her hand and declaring that he was delighted to have found his new secretary.

Two things quickly became quite clear after several weeks working with Alfie Solomons : he wasn't running a bakery at all, and he was perfectly charming.

Well, it happened that he shouted at certain employees, even hit them, and probably worse when there were no witnesses, but with Y/N, he was undoubtedly the most sweet and polite man. the sweetest in the world.

Even when she made mistakes, which didn't happen often, he would shrug his shoulders and say it was her fault, because he was asking a lot of her, before offering her a cup of tea and some biscuits.

Sometimes she would find flowers on her desk when she arrived in the morning.

“Slept well, love ?”

"Very well, Mr. Solomons, thank you. And you ?"

"Call me Alfie, love. And I haven't slept yet."

"Are you saying that so I don't wake you if I find you asleep again before a meeting, Mr. Solomons ?"

“I know you will do it no matter what, you cruel woman.”

When they didn't have too much work, they talked. Alfie Solomons had an opinion on everything, stories to tell, anecdotes or more or less strange questions on philosophical subjects as well as on perfectly futile or strange things. He often made her laugh, which seemed to please him.

On the contrary, he did not like it when another employee, client or business partner allowed themselves to be rude to his favorite secretary. It wasn't often, word had quickly spread about what Mr. Solomons did to those who misbehaved with Y/N.

For some, they were sleeping together. It didn't help that he often drove her home, even if it was only when it was very late, raining, or very cold.

Even though she promised them it wasn't true, her brothers were a little worried. They didn't like seeing Alfie hovering around their little sister like that, even if she brought them some interesting information thanks to her position.

It wasn't normal that she managed to have so much information, which worried them even more because Alfie Solomons really wasn't the type of man to take such a risk, so either he had discovered who she was and he was either giving Y/N wrong informationsn or he liked her so much he let her have everything.

The Shelby brothers didn't know which would be the worst. With all the information turning out to be true, they didn't know what to make of it.

Y/N didn't ask herself these kinds of questions, too busy with her work as a secretary, trying to keep her distance from her employer who was much too charming to be honest, and who was obviously not very appreciated by her family .

He sometimes asked her to marry him, but only as a joke, when she brought him a meal or when she forced him to put a pillow behind his back so that he wouldn't suffer the next day, or when She took care of his business perfectly.

Everything stopped after Arthur's beating.

The next day, Tommy called his sister to order her to leave. He was kind enough to apologize when he told her that she would probably have to move, but that she could always stay to Watery Lane with them while she found something, to make sure that Alfie wouldn't find her. Although he didn't see why he would look for her.

Solomons was disappointed to learn that his beloved secretary had to leave town for family reasons, but he seemed to understand, kissing her one last time on the hand and wishing her a good life.

“I guess it’s still a no for marriage ?”

"Mr. Solomons…"

"I know, I know, I'm just an old idiot. Take care, love. Shalom to your brothers and sisters."

Several months passed before this little sentence made sense to Y/N.

It hadn't shocked her, because the man talked too much for her to take in everything he said, it was only polite that he wished the best for his family, and she had been too busy not to show that their separation affected her.

Not seeming to see that she had become attached to the wandering Jew, Tommy did not warn her when it was decided to do business with him, against the Italians. He hadn't warned Arthur either, who wasn't happy to see Alfie again.

The meeting went well, from what Y/N understood. Alfie presented his "apologies" to Arthur, before agreeing to help him sort out their affairs with the Italians. He didn't ask for too much money, which surprised the brothers a little. He didn't hold them by the balls, it was the opportunity.

But no, he decided to be a gentleman, helping them in honor of old times. As he left, he only asked Tommy to greet his charming sister for him, winking.

The deal then no longer really mattered, because the Shelbys discovered something much more important. Solomons had discovered who he had hired as his secretary. He knew Y/N was one of them.

"… You're not serious. Thomas, you said it would be temporary."

"I know… I know ! Little sis, you have to understand that he is very dangerous. He is going to get revenge, he is going to hurt you and there is no way I am letting that happen."

“He won’t do anything to me.”

"It's business. He'll do it like he did to Arthur. You need to understand that you're not safe out there. Stay with us, stay home."

Y/N's worst nightmare was happening. Locked up with her family, without hope of independence or freedom. She should never have agreed to help Tom.

Unfortunately he seemed to be right, because she saw Ollie several times through the window, and other employees of the Bakery hanging around in the street. It was too risky to go out.

Then the flowers arrived. Deliveries of packages containing perfumes, books, tea. There was no need for him to sign them, but Alfie Solomons seemed to insist that the Shelbys understand that he knew full well where to find their sister.

Arthur wanted to kill him. John thought he needed to speak with this madman before it was too late. Tommy considered that just not bringing up the subject would make him calm down, too busy with other problems.

When the flu came, staying indoors protected no one. Ada brought the illness home and soon the most fragile members of the family were bedridden with fever.

A doctor came to examine them, to the surprise of the older brothers, who did not have enough money this month to pay for his services. He only said that they didn't need to worry about it, taking care of Finn, Ada, then Y/N, before going out without asking for a penny, leaving them with remedies and instructions.

The others' health improved quickly, but Y/N remained sick, shaking and sweating, sleeping for several hours before being awakened by nightmares, tired as if she hadn't slept for days.

One night, a hand on her damp forehead brought her out of her torpor. The hand remained still, only the thumb caressing her skin.

"You have to sleep, love. I brought tea, for your throat."

“Al… Alfie ?”

"Yes, love. Everything is fine, rest."

"It was you… who sent the doctor…"

"I wasn't going to let my favorite secretary die from a slight fever. Why isn't anyone at your bedside ? I don't like it, I'm going to have a word with your brothers."

Arthur and Tommy would undoubtedly have taken this as a threat, Solomons managing to enter their home and sneak up to their little sister's room without being seen, then being able to do her all the harm he wanted.

Y/N knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. It had been obvious for several weeks that he didn't intend to, with all these ridiculous gifts and letters, where he kept asking her if he wanted to marry her. He was having fun, nothing more. He continued to tease her, while scaring the Shelbys.

"It's not very nice." Y/N whispered, trying to keep her eyes open.

“It’s too easy to annoy them, it’s not my fault.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

"Ah. You see, love, I don't know what to do about it anymore. I did everything to make you see that I was serious, I who never seem serious. I knew it would be difficult at first, because you thought I didn't know who you were. I knew before I hired you. Then you left, I thought I was going to die, but I told myself that now that you weren't working for me anymore , if I said that I knew, then it would be easier. What should I do ? Buy a horse ? A trailer ? There is a gypso rite that I don't know to ask for the hand of a woman ? I have to go and see Arthur and duel him ? I can do it, he doesn't scare me, love. I can go right now."

"No… Stay with me…" she begged him, holding out her hand, coughing again.

Unable to not get agitated when he was speaking, Alfie Solomons had stood up to show that he would go to her brother's room to beat his face, but he immediately sat down next to Y/N, I took her hand which he kissed with all the tenderness he was capable of.

“Stay with me…” she repeated miserably.

"Yes, love, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm here."

And he was still there when she opened her eyes the next morning, holding her hand and smiling as her fever seemed to be going down. The moment was slightly ruined by Finn, who wanted to see if she was better and who screamed when he saw Solomons. Alfie yelled louder, even if it was to order the bellowing to stop because Y/N needed to rest.

This of course alerted the entire Shelby family, who ran into the room.

At first, Alfie refused to leave. He promised he would stay, so he would stay.

Then, seeing Y/N's pleading look who didn't want anyone to get hurt, he sighed as he agreed to follow the brothers into the kitchen, for a discussion, but only if he was allowed to come back to see her to say goodbye to her afterwards.

"If I didn't kill you first…"

"Oh, Arhur. Shalom ! Glad to see you haven't lost your humor !"

Ada stayed with her sister, helping her to drink, rubbing water on her forehead, and not being able to stop herself from asking her what had happened. Y/N reassuring her, explaining that Alfie had sent the doctor, that he wasn't dangerous, not at all.

Unlike the others, Ada did not take care of their brothers' less than legal affairs. She understood that this Solomons was not a good person, but neither of them were, and he seemed very attached to Y/N.

"And you ? What do you think of him ?"

"He's a fool."

"I see. You like him. Do you think Tommy would be alright with you dating ?"

"I'm afraid Alfie doesn't care about Thomas' approval." Y/N sighed, trying to hear if any screams were coming from downstairs. "He is very stubborn."

"I thought I noticed, with all these gifts. If he asks you to marry me, I want to be a bridesmaid."

“He’s asked me before, several times.”

“Damn, Y/N, Arthur is going to have a heart attack.”

Fortunately, the eldest did not have a heart attack, but he initially refused to believe Solomons' sincere feelings. The others were skeptical too. As she predicted, it didn't matter to Alfie, who only cared about her opinion.

He also pointed out that only Y/N had the right to order him to leave, by telling him that she never wanted to see him again. One word from her, and he wouldn't bother them anymore. But a yes, and he would be the happiest man in the world.

“With a beautiful family of fucking gypsos, but the happiest all the same.”

“She will never say yes to you !” John replied.

"Fucking hell, still speaking for her. Let's ask her. But not now, she still needs to recover. Leave her alone."

The brothers did not obey, waiting until the wandering Jew had kissed Y/N's hand and finally left to question her in turn, despite Ada's protests.

Only Tommy remained near the bedroom door, watching his sister in her bed. When their eyes met, he seemed to ask her a silent question, and she felt tears forming, unable to hide her answer.

He nodded, before whistling to tell everyone to get out. He said nothing, only smiling tenderly as he closed the door, leaving her alone with his blessing.

When Alfie Solomons would be back, with a white horse, new flowers and his proposal, she could say yes to him if she wanted, without fear of war. Because even though business was important, family was more important, and if Y/N was happy with him, then no one could say anything against that.

Her future husband only had to remember that if he hurt one of them, her the first, he would pay for it.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide

Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol

Left Behind Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC The Last of Us 2.5k Words (3rd POV) (Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one) Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.

“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”

The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.” “You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-” “That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.” Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them. “That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap. But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life. Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out. He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall. She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues. One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face. He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up. But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson. He’d figure it out. He had to.

With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them. The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged. Easy for him at least. He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down. Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had. “Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance. “Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow. She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it. “Like hell it ain’t.” “Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.” “I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.” “Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”

“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth. A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.” He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time. “You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?” He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting.

The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds.

Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom. He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her. “That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.” She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.” Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”

There was no smile then. He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.

Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.

“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.

She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.

Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”

The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”

She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.

“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.

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bruciemilf · 2 years

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I'd like to suggest a concept.

Angry protective Bruce as Bruce Wayne who drops Brucie in public when his family and friends are threatened. Who's ready to snarl at a jackass because one too many boundary was crossed and he's DONE.

The thing is that apparently Bruce like this is even scarier than Batman. Or well, Batman is only ever as scary as that when his protective instincts rear their head.

Social media explodes. Bruce is as doting as ever to his children and kind in general. He's just doesn't have any more fucks to give.

His kids are flabbergasted. His kids are proud. They regularly get popcorn.

Other times they get angry because many people don't like this and push back and bring up nasty things from the past. WHAT did people used to say to Bruce when he was a teenager??

Alfred's hands are shaking. He's heard some of this before. But it seems that people only get stealthier.

GODDD ITS THE WAY I HAVE THE PERFECT WHUMP PIECE FOR THIS-

Here's a brutal truth about Gotham; You can either be a broken hero, or a whole villain, but you can't be both at once. One or the other, both kneel to Gotham City in different ways.

No one from the Justice League truly understood. Not until Bruce dismisses the idea of Diana being tonight's arm candy for the rich and sleazy at Wayne Gala;

They needed to get that Kryptonite from Lex's hands, and this is the perfect trap. Bruce is the man for the job. " It's what I'm for; That's my designed purpose."

He's talking about Brucie Wayne, but Clark finds more sinister undertones beneath that. But they soon understand what that means, and it leaves them with ashes in their mouth.

They watch, helplessly, uselessly, as Lex Luthor pulls Bruce into his lap, puffing cigar smoke in his face while admiring the bat of his lashes; Bruce's beauty is a death trap. That bastard won't be thinking about the labs anytime soon.

But it's disturbing to watch.

It's disturbing and wretched, watching Bruce sit there and take it; Smiling emptily, pretending there's nothing wrong when his waist is squeezed or his character is smeared.

Clark watches with red eyes as Lex grabs Bruce's sharp jawline, moving it from side to side, as if displaying an adorable animal, " Brucie's lucky he's pretty, cause there's NOTHING upstairs" while laughing with a group of equally disgusting men.

Bruce is just rolling his eyes internally and hopes Oliver and Hal will get a kick out of this, cause it's the last time he does a mission for this; Better him than Diana.

(Oliver and Hal aren't enjoying this; far from it, actually. Ollie squeezed a champagne glass so hard shards bite into his hand and Hal has to take his ring off because he WILL blast these assholes with it on)

Carmine Falcone is the spark that lights the fire, thought.

Wrinkled, ringed fingers tipping up Bruce's jaw, " When I told Tommy he'll be a looker, he punched my goddam lights out. But I was right, wasn't I? Shame he ain't here to see it,"

Clark is reminded, then, that Tim is watching this from Bruce's lens. Maybe Dick, too. Maybe all of them do. His stomach coils at the thought,

" Maybe that boy of yours, - Tim, right? - is gonna take after you and drop the chairman act. God knows this city needs more pretty boys like you."

There's another, secret truepiece about Gotham; Bruce Wayne wears Batman. Not the other way around.

The League has the pleasure of watching Bruce slowly rise from Lex's lap, smile ice-cold and dangerous and venom painted.

They watch with paused breaths as Bruce Wayne grips Falcone's head and bangs it againts the table and backhand Lex so hard a storm of teeth fly out.

The room temperature is fire, Bruce's anger drowning them in, and there's a bit of pleasure in it. Especially when their friend simply dusts off his hand and says he's ready to go, but Clark HEARS Bruce's heart stutter and panic, " I need to see Tim, - I need... I need Tim. I need my kids."

No one holds him back; They're smarter than that.

No one harms Bruce's children; There's a tall price to pay if you do, and no one's pockets are that deep. And yes, people have lots to say about it; But he's too tired and too sick and too angry to give half a fuck.

As long as his family is okay, what's more to care about? As long as they don't go through what HE went through, what's there to dig after?

But Alfred has his own shares of horror stories about teenage Bruce and how he was treated, and he isn't shy to reveal names.

" But of course, there's nothing Superman could do about it, am I wrong, Mr. Kent?"

" Superman, no. Clark kent just might, sir."

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

Note

Tommy + Carol Cameo on bingo Steddie, I feel like that could be interesting

Oooh let's do a second take on this. This one's post s4

Eddie watched from the door as Steve primped himself in the mirror. Normally it was endearing, sometimes even enough to get him hot. But tonight of all nights, it wasn't doing anything for him. Okay that was a lie, it was doing something for him but not as much as it usually did.

"You promised you would be nice", Steve said, fiddling with his hair like it wasn't already perfect.

"I promised I wouldn't bite. And you know that's different."

Steve wiped any product off his hands and then stuck his thumbs into the corners of Eddie's mouth. "I know." He let his thumbs trace his boyfriend's canines lovingly. "But you know what I meant Mr. Wordsmith."

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting across a from Tommy and Carol in the booth of a diner. Steve had run into Carol in the middle of the street and somehow they'd awkward conversationed themselves into having this double date.

After a long silence, Tommy spoke up first. "What are we even doing here? He dumped us, remember?"

"Yeah, a good fuckin' call if you ask me", Eddie said.

"Hey, you were the one bitching a fit when we found out they were dating", Carol said, glaring at Tommy.

"Because he-you know that he-", Tommy started and stopped.

"Carol said you guys wanted to make amends", Steve said. "I don't really know how, but I...", he took a breath. "You guys were grade A assholes but I was too. And I miss you...us." He took Eddie's hand under the table for strength.

"Yeah, well, why'd you never come back?", Tommy asked.

"Because I can't go back to that person. And it's not because of Nancy or anyone else. I'm not that person anymore."

"No, you're the kind who hangs out with losers. And now even worse you're hitching your wagon to a-"

"Don't", Steve stopped him in his tracks because he knew what word was about to drop from Tommy's lips. Murderer. Official reports didn't do much for small town opinions.

"But you know how it looks, right?", Carol raised a brow. "You're about to be like him, a town pariah."

Steve knew they believed what everyone else did. That Eddie was responsible for the Spring Break murders. He couldn't tell them everything, he wouldn't burden them with that but... He shared a look with Eddie before turning his attention back to them.

"I wanna show you guys something."

They went out behind the diner and Steve took a deep breath. "Eddie didn't do anything. It was...someone else. I can't tell you anything, but I can show you." Slowly, he lifted up his shirt to reveal the scars left behind by the bat bites.

Carol's hands went to her mouth while Tommy stood there with a heartbroken expression.

"Jesus, Stevie. Were you, were you fighting a bear or what? Shit."

"How are you-? What happened?", Carol whispered.

Steve let his shirt down. "I can't tell you everything. But I can say that I'd be dead if Eddie wasn't there." As well as Nancy and Robin, but Steve wouldn't bring up their names now. "Eddie's a goddamn hero. Even if this town will never know it, I won't stop saying it."

"I'd jump in that lake every time, tiger", Eddie smiled.

Carol had so many questions. And she was pretty sure only half of them would only be answered. But they had come here to make amends. And there was one way she could do that.

"So, if Munson wasn't responsible...if he was out there helping and s-saving you, then Jason Carver incited a whole mob based on what? Just hearsay?"

"Hearsay, conjecture, and a healthy dose of fearmongering", Eddie said, hands in his back pockets.

Carol and Tommy shared a look. She wiped some stray tears from her face and Tommy sniffled a bit as they composed themselves.

"Well, we can't make Eddie a hero. But we can do the next best thing", she said.

Eddie raised a brow, intrigued while Steve waited, already having an idea of what she had come up with.

"Gossip is a powerful thing. And Jason's not around to defend himself anymore", Carol said.

"And as I recall, you were pretty good at spitting venom too", Tommy said. "I know you said you're not that guy anymore, but what about using those powers for good?"

Steve considered it but not for very long. "Between the three of us, we could probably run his cronies and their families out of town."

Steddie bingo under the cut

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #carol perkins #tommy hagan

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whxtedreams · 4 months

Text

Chapter 1 - Sunshine

Summary

Past: You run into Raiders while looting nearby houses and meet an unwanted companion.

Present: Tommy and Joel find you in an abandoned church.

CW // mentions of loss, violence, threats of sexual assault (hinted), blood

Word count: 8,071

Before

Autumn 2019

The first time you killed someone, you hadn't waited around to watch them die. You had sunk your knife into his chest and fled quickly, unable to bear the thought of watching the life slip from their eyes. You heard their screams as they choked on their own blood, but you hadn't seen the light fade from their eyes. It was a memory you tried not to think too much about, and you were grateful that you hadn't witnessed their inevitable death.

It’s been six years and twenty-eight bodies later – a number that didn't seem real – and you had watched each one of them take their last breath.

Six long years since your brother passed, six years filled with grief, and more than a half a decade spent on the run in order to protect his legacy and the innocent life he had created. You had thought you had lost it all, your only family, your only guide, but your niece kept you going. As you ran across the country, trying everything in your power to protect her, you couldn't help but wish that your brother could have been there beside you, watching out for the both of you as he had always done. Even if he was an asshole.

He had been the one to shoulder all of the violent realities of this world so that you could live a life untouched by the stain of blood. But he had made a mistake, and that mistake had cost him his life, leaving that burden for you to carry in his stead. With a heavy heart, you had taken it and done what you had to do to protect your niece, to keep her safe and her own hands clean of murder.

He had trained you both to kill the infected, preparing you with the knowledge and skills you would need to survive. But he had also made it clear that he was the one who would handle the humans you encountered, making sure that the two of you wouldn't have to deal with that particular danger by yourselves.

It wasn't until you were in your early twenties that he began to teach you the basics of how to kill people quickly and quietly. He made you promise that you would never use those skills unless they were absolutely necessary, and you agreed. You had no desire to hurt people, and you hoped you would never need to break your promise to your brother, but you were prepared to do so if it meant keeping your niece safe.

"I don't care how angry someone makes you," he states flatly as he wipes the blood off his knife with a cloth, looking over at you. "You don't kill 'em. You only kill ‘em when they’re gonna kill you." His tone carries a warning as he speaks to you. "What do you do when someone makes you angry?" He looks over at you from the opposite side of the rusted dining table in the abandoned house where you decided to make camp for the night.

You roll your eyes and glance down at Annabel, who's passed out in the corner of the room, her mouth hanging open and soft snores escaping her lips. Her peaceful slumber, despite the fact that you'd been engaged in a highly dangerous and potentially deadly situation no more than an hour ago, is a bit comical to you, and you let out a soft laugh as you turn back to face Dean.

“Tell me.” He demands as he moves to clean his next knife.

“I walk away.”

He looks up from his knife and nods. “Keep going.”

You sigh and cross your arms as you lean back in your chair, and you repeat his teachings to him. "Then I grab a weapon and beat the shit out of something. Not someone, and never with my hands," you say clearly. He nods at you again, seemingly satisfied with your answer, as he continues to clean his knife and sheath it away.

“Good. And what do you do when you feel nothing?” He asks after a moment.

“I get the fuck away from everyone, listen to music.”

He nods.

You shake your head in disbelief and consider your options as you spin the knife in your hand, standing in front of yet another empty cupboard. You've gone down two streets already, checking each house for any possible source of sustenance, and yet it seems like every cupboard, fridge, and dresser in the houses you've looted has already been ransacked.

You left your niece, Annabel behind at a house a few streets away while you took the burden of looting the small town you found yourselves in. She had wanted to come of course, but you wanted her safe behind locked doors while you searched for supplies.

It hadn't been easy to leave her behind, but it was the right thing to do. But the moment you were away from her side, you couldn't stop thinking about her safety. What if someone were to break in while she was alone? What if they discovered that she had been left behind there?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open, followed by a whispered curse as someone else enters the house. You still for a moment, listening for any further sound as you contemplate your next move. It's likely that another survivor had broken in and was searching for supplies, and you weren't sure how they'd react to finding you here.

"I thought I told you to be fucking quiet." A man hisses in a hushed tone, his voice full of annoyance and anger.

"Not my fault the door creaked," Another voice whispers back defensively. "The bitch probably knows we're here now, anyway," he adds, and you hear them both move further into the home.

You quickly duck behind the island in the kitchen, hiding from the two men who'd just entered the house. There’s a room between you and the invaders, the dining room, and in the silence of the house every noise can and will be heard. You try to slow your breathing, hoping that both of them will go left into the loungeroom first instead of right into the connecting dining room. The footsteps of the men echo in your ears, one set lighter and quicker than the other. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, and your eyes stay wide, your attention focused on every single noise the men make.

Your heart plummets at the realisation that one set of footsteps has entered the dining room while the other has entered the living room. Okay, one on one then. You could take one out before the other realised what was happening. You hold your breath, listening for any sign of the approaching footsteps getting any closer to your position as you take your knife from your belt. Maybe, just maybe, you could take one of them out before they knew what hit them.

The man who entered the dining room slowly enters the kitchen and rounds the island with his back to you as he inspects the walk-in pantry to your right. Perfect. You quietly leap from your crouched position, wrapping your free hand around his mouth to muffle the yell that escapes his lips as you kick the back of his knee and send him to the ground. The force of your arm has done its job, muffling the sound of his surprised yelp as you quickly stab the side of his throat and twist before pulling it out. His blood spurts out from the wound, and you close your eyes and wince as it hits your face. You let go of him, and his hand flies to his wound as he wheezes. In his final attempt, he fires the gun in his hand aimlessly to alert the other man.

Shit.

“Josh!” The other man yells from across the house, and his boots move quickly towards the kitchen.

Fuck.

The man - Josh - drops to the floor, his blood pooling out from his wound and covering the ground below him. His partner enters the room with his gun raised as he sees the bloody scene in front of him, his expression quickly shifting from one of annoyance to shock and anger.

You stand above Josh's body, his blood dripping from both your face and your knife, as the other man finally looks you in the eyes and raises his gun to you. You hold your breath as your attention is placed entirely on his intentions, and your mind races to come up with a plan to avoid getting shot.

You freeze, staring at the man in front of you. Your mind races as you try to calculate your next move in the split second you have before he pulls the trigger. Your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sound of the trigger being pulled back. Your eyes widen as you dive back behind the counter, the bullet grazing the side of your arm, making you drop your knife in the process.

You fall to the ground behind the counter and scramble into a crouched position, grunting at the pain in your arm as you push yourself back up. You quickly assess your arm, noticing that the bullet had only nicked you and that the blood was only steadily oozing out of the small gash. It didn't appear to be anything too serious, but any amount of blood loss is dangerous in this world.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Who are you?” You demand, hoping they weren’t tracking you and just unfortunate to cross you.

“Think you know already bitch.” He snaps back.

Raiders. Fucking Raiders .

Two weeks, you’d been running from a group of raiders. Two long weeks. You were ambushed by the group while you’d been on the train tracks with Annabel. You had managed to shoot one of them before you bolted with Annabel’s hand in yours. Luckily, they wanted you both alive otherwise, you would have been shot as you ran. Or unlucky if you think about it.

Pretty women were hard to come by these days, they had said.

The man, clearly impatient, rounds the counter just as his friend did. Instead of attacking him, you move around the kitchen island to keep the counters between you. When reaching the next corner of the island, you find the path clear to the dining room. With a deep breath, you bolt from your hiding spot and run hunched over into the dining room. Shots are fired as you run and your hands cover the back of your head instinctively as you move to your next cover.

The man swears as his bullets miss you. As you run from the dining room and into the entryway, you notice the men have blocked the front door with a table. Sure, you could easily move it but the boots slamming into the wood panelling underneath him, you know you don’t have the time.

At your short stutter in movement, another bullet is shot and you duck. The bullet hits the table and you scramble into the living room, thankful he’s a shit shot.

Quick thinking has you lifting your baseball bat from the strap on your bag as you run past the stairs leading upstairs and into a connecting room. You slam the door shut as the man shoves against it with his shoulder as you force it closed with all your body weight. You’re thankful – yet again – the door has a lock and as the door is shoved again, you lock it.

Knowing a simple lock will not be enough to keep him out, You turn around and examine the room for anything to block the door with. Realising you have stumbled into an old nursery, you groan and shake your head.

Your brain going into overdrive, you decide to give up on blocking the door and stride over to the window. With a few tugs, you swear as you realise it’s locked. Looking around the room frantically for something to throw through the glass. But it’s a nursery, everything in here is soft and harmless.

Your head snaps to the door as he slams into it again, the sound of wood breaking. Time is ticking. You look down at the baseball bat in your hand and sigh, wishing you hadn’t dropped your knife. Knowing you have to fight him instead of fleeing, you pick up the heaviest toy scattered on the floor. You find a decent sized wooden toy truck and toss it a few times in your hand and shrug at the weight. Not perfect, but it’ll do.

You move towards the edge of the room besides the door. You wait with your bat in one hand and the toy raised in the other as the door creaks and groans. One last shove and the door breaks off its hinges and falls to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in the air.

The man stumbles through into the room, shocked and unprepared at the sudden break of the door. While his brain catches up to the new environment, you locate the gun in his hand and throw the wooden toy at his hands as he raises the gun. With a shocked grunt, the man drops the gun and you re-grip the bat with both hands as you land a hit at the back of his head. He stumbles forward and you kick the gun across the room as he falls onto the crib in the middle of the room.

The wooden crib breaks under his weight and you step over broken wood before stopping beside him. You raise your bat and land another strong hit to the back of his head. The man screams in agony as he slumps into the pile of wood. You let out a puff of air before you lift the bat over your head and swing again, and he stills on the floor. The bat cracks as you hit his skull again and you swear as the wood breaks in two.

“Fuck,” You swear under your breath as you toss your favourite bat across the room in anger.

You nudge the man beneath you with your foot. He groans and you sigh. In this moment, you feel nothing. Your wound is there, the pain slowly creeping back into your body, but you don’t feel it. You aren’t afraid of death. You don't feel as protective towards Annabel as you should be. You are numb. Emotionless and void of feeling as you stare down at the man in front of you. His breaths come in short, panicked gasps. There is nothing you feel except the emptiness in your heart, your thoughts cold and indifferent to everything.

You are past the point of anger. You slip into nothing.

“And what do you do when you feel nothing?”

“I get the fuck away from everyone, listen to music.”

You attempt to wipe the blood off your face from the man you stabbed but end up smearing it across your face. “Stay here.” You sigh emotionlessly as you turn and leave the room.

Walking back into the kitchen, you step over the man you stabbed, picking up your knife. You kneel beside him, looting his body for anything useful. Your efforts are only rewarded with his gun and ammo.

Upon reentering the nursery, you find the man in the same spot. Blood is splattered around him from the blunt trauma to his head and you shake your head as you step towards him, his blood tainting what is supposed to be an innocent room.

Your expression is cold and determined as you stare down at him as he groans in pain. You lean down and grab onto his jacket as you turn him over onto his back. The wood cracks beneath him and moor blood seeps out from his head wound, staining what used to be a baby's crib.

You take a deep breath as you move to straddle him. He squirms under you and cries, his hands covering his bloody and puffy face. You take your knife in both hands and lunge it into his chest. His hands claw at your arms as he screams again. You pull your knife from his chest before using all your strength to piece his chest again. And again. And again.

His screams stop somewhere between the sixth and seventh time.

You blink as you stab him again, blood all over your hands as they shake on the handle of your knife as it lodges into his chest again.

You pull your knife from his lifeless body and stand up on shaky legs. You look down at your body, the front of your clothes soaked in crimson blood, and are struck by the intensity of your actions. You put your knife back into its sheath on your belt before you can do any more damage, taking in the sight all around you.

Turning back to the man you mutilated only moments ago, you sigh as you pick up his handgun from where you kicked it. You look down at the body in front of you; his body a testament to the brutality you'd just perpetrated. The blood-covered floor was a grim reminder of the violence that had just taken place.

You shrug your backpack from your shoulders and onto a changing table across the room. You take your gun from your holster and reload it with a new magazine. You bag their two guns and put your own back in its thigh holster.

Six years and thirty bodies now. Dean would be both proud and pissed.

After moving the table from the front door, you ran between houses and hopped fences to track back to Annabel as fast as you could, leaving bloody footprints as you went. The pain in your wounded arm is starting to become more noticeable as the adrenaline rush fades, reality sinking in, and you are beginning to wonder if you had done the right thing. But as you race back to Annabel, your mind is fixed on her well-being before anything else. You need to ensure that she is safe and unharmed, that no one has discovered her and is still alive. The thought of losing her terrifies you.

So when you open the front door of the house you were staying in and heard a man's voice, your anger rose again.

Closing the door behind you, you unholster your gun and quietly step down the hall towards the archway that leads into the lounge room. You take it slow, one step at a time, hoping the floorboards won't creak and give away your position. As you get closer and closer, the sound of laughter grows clearer and clearer in your ears. It's her. It's Annabel. And she's laughing? Just hearing her laugh lifts your heart and makes your chest clench as you step to the side of the archway.

You slowly step into the archway, your gun drawn and ready to fire any potential threat that crosses your path. You spot your niece sitting cross-legged on the couch first and then notice the dark curls of a man sitting opposite her, facing away from you as he laughs at something she said. You feel your heart race, your mind running on pure animalistic instincts as you try to identify this man sitting so casually, laughing with Annabel as she tosses her rubber ball in the air.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, and your trigger finger tightens ever so slightly. You would have shot him right then and there, but she’s laughing .

Annabel's eyes widen as they fall upon you in the archway, the gun in your hand a clear warning for her not to say anything. She lets the ball drop to the ground, and it rolls across the floor to the man.

“Get up, slowly." You bark the words at the unidentified man, your voice low and lacking any emotion. Your eyes are still fixed on him as you slowly enter the room, your gun still trained on him.

He sighs and slowly stands from the chair when you order him to, his back to you as he raises his arms. "You must be the aunt," he says in a calm tone, not showing any signs of the fear you'd expect. You can hear the slight note of recognition in his voice, and a chill goes down your spine as you hear him speak. You still don't take your eyes off his back, waiting for him to turn to face you.

"Turn around," you say in a cold, firm tone.

"Is that your blood?" Annabel's voice cracks as she takes in your bloody appearance, and her eyes widen as she stares at you in horror and fear.

He turns slowly with his arms still raised, and once again, you study him carefully as he faces you. Now that he faces you, you can see the black eye forming on his face, and your shoulders relax slightly. At least Annabel didn't let him in willingly. He has dark, curly, shoulder-length hair and a moustache but is otherwise cleanly shaven. He wears a dark blue button-up, his toned arms visible through the fabric.

"That’s a lot of blood," the man mutters under his breath as he takes in your appearance. You can see his eyes study your blood-stained body, travelling down and back again as they stop at the gash on your arm. His eyes on you make you feel sick. "You're hurt, I can-"

"Don't move." Your words stop him in his tracks, and it's evident from your tone that you won't tolerate him disregarding your instructions. “I’m fine.” You snap at the man and focus your gun on his head.

"You're bleeding, pal. You look like hell," the man says, his voice showing genuine concern. "Here, let me see your arm-" he adds, moving his hand to gesture in the direction of his bag across the room beside Annabel.

“I said don’t MOVE .” You shout, and his arm freezes in response to your shouted command. Your words echo through the living room, and for a moment, you and the man just stare at each other. Your emotions are mixed, between the pain and shock from your own injuries and the strange mix of guilt and suspicion you have towards this man who seems to be genuinely trying to help you. Your gun is still raised, your finger still on the trigger, and you still haven’t decided if you can trust him. You’ve killed two men today, you can easily make that number three.

A soft hand touches your arm, and you flinch in response, caught off guard by the sudden change in your surroundings. You hadn't noticed that your niece had moved, and she whispers into your ear. "He's not a raider, and he’s not him. " Your muscles tense even more as you glare at the man before you, ready to kill him at the first sign of betrayal. But the words of Annabel leave you in a state of disbelief. How does she know he's not a raider? But the conviction in her tone gives you pause.

You take your eyes off the man in front of you and look down at your niece beside you. Her eyes are soft and pleading with you, appealing to your sense of reason. You suck in a breath and close your eyes. You're tired, you're hurt, and you don't know what to think. But somehow, her words manage to penetrate the fog surrounding your thoughts, and for a moment, you entertain the possibility that she's right. You close your eyes and try to fight back the flashbacks of him.

“He won’t hurt us.”

“Annabel” You sigh. “You don’t know that. I didn’t think he would hurt me either.” You open your eyes and focus back on the man in front of you.

“He says he can help us. He’s heading to a town. A good town. Good people.” She rambles, trying to get her words out before you stop her again.

You scoff, shaking your head. “Are you fucking stupid?”

She laughs softly beside you, and the sound sends a chill down your spine. Her laughter is dark and void of humour, and her voice seems colder than you've ever heard it before. "Maybe I am," she says quietly, as if speaking to herself. "But I'm sick of running." The change in her attitude and tone worries you, but you're too exhausted to say anything about it.

You frown at your niece's confession and grip the gun in your hands. "Fuck," you mutter as you lower the gun. The man lowers his arms, but your eyes are fixed on him as you glare at him. "You make one dodgy move, and I will put a bullet between your eyes." You snarl at him, the tension in your voice making your intentions crystal clear. "Am I clear?" You wait for his reply, your eyes never leaving him. You don't trust him yet, but you're willing to hear him out.

The man nods. “The name’s Tommy.” He smiles, and you roll your eyes. “Just – just let me take a look at your arm. Or are you just gonna bleed to death?”

“Fuck you.” You snap, taking a step forward and wincing as you move your arm. “Fine.”

Tommy guides you over to the chair he'd previously occupied and has you sit down after taking your bag from you and placing it beside the couch. Your eyes never leave him as he moves, although Annabel's presence brings you a slight sense of comfort.

Tommy drags his bag over to the couch and sits down next to you; his legs stretched out in front of him as he places the bag between his legs."How's the pain?" he asks, studying your injury as his eyes go wide at the sight of your bloodied arm. A few drops of blood trail down from your arm and pool on the chair beneath you. As he speaks, you look over at his black eye and notice a few light bruises around his cheek and neck. Annabel had definitely gotten a few good hits in.

"Don't feel anything." You mutter a short and somewhat snippy response as he lifts your arm for a better look. He seems to ignore your attitude and simply focuses on assessing the severity of your injuries. "How's the eye?" You smirk at him, and his expression changes to one of amusement as he shakes his head, the black eye on his face clearly still bothering him. You can't help but feel a small sense of pride at seeing his injury.

The tension in the room is starting to shift, your mistrust for Tommy slowly turning to more mutual respect. Your niece had warned you that this man might not have been a raider and that he wasn't hostile. Now you're starting to believe her. He still hasn't given you enough reason to trust him fully, but your suspicions are slowly being tempered by curiosity.

"What happened out there?" Annabel asks as she rises from her chair and rounds the back of the couch to your bag, rummaging through it and pulling out your walkman and headphones. She tosses the headphones in your direction, and your tension eases ever so slightly as you catch the gesture from your niece. She knows your music calms you, a reminder of the safety and comfort you had back in your old home before everything fell apart.

Tommy digs through his own bag, taking out a water bottle and a small med-pack and placing it on the couch beside him. You appreciate the gesture and keep a watchful eye on the pack and any movements Tommy makes as you place one of your headphones over your ear while the one closest to Tommy sits behind your ear to hear him still. You turn on your walkman, the calming sound of music filling your ears and sending a surge of relief through you. Your heart begins to beat slowly and evenly as your muscles relax and your tension subsides.

"Ran into some raiders still tracking us," you say as you settle back onto the couch with your headphones still playing your music. Tommy takes the water bottle and pours it over your wounded arm to wash away some of the blood, and you can't help but sigh with relief as the water touches your skin. The music and the sensation of the water on your arm are enough to make you feel more at ease, and your eyes droop slightly with a sudden sense of relaxation.

"Must have been a lot of raiders, from the amount of blood on you," Tommy says while gesturing to your bloodied clothes. He tightens the lid back on the bottled water before placing it back on the ground and reaching for the med pack. You can't help but notice the needle and thread along with the bottle of alcohol rub, and your tension and suspicion heighten once again. Why does he need the needle and thread? Is he going to sew up your wound? The thought of him poking a needle into your injured arm makes your skin crawl.

"Just the two..." You start to say, but your words are cut short as your frown deepens at the sight of the needle. The man sighs in response to the expression on your face, and you wonder for a moment if he can read your thoughts. You consider objecting or fighting back, but with the pain beginning to creep into your arm and your emotions slowly coming back due to the music in your ears, you decide against it.

"Yes, I've done this before, and yes, this will hurt," the man answers your silent questions. His words are paired with an apologetic smile, which does nothing to ease the tension of the situation.

Tommy opens the bottle of alcohol rub and pours it onto a clean cloth from the med pack, using it to wipe your wound clean gently. You bite your lip and look away from him, still refusing to look at him directly.

Once satisfied, he places the bottle back in the pack and picks up the needle and thread from his lap. He holds the needle and thread in his hands, and your body tenses up even more when he moves towards your injured arm. "You need stitches," he adds. You know he's right, but the thought of the needle touching your wound and poking through your flesh makes your stomach churn, your heart pound and your breathing quicken. Your eyes remain glued to him, your body tensing in anticipation.

"Fine," you grit out through clenched teeth, turning away from Tommy as you refuse to watch him pierce your skin with the needle.

The music in your ear still plays at full volume, still sending waves of comfort into your mind and body. But your grip on the gun in your hand stays tight, your entire body on edge and tense. Your other arm remains held firmly in place by Tommy’s hand as the needle and thread pieces through your skin as he begins to patch you up, preventing you from making any sudden movements.

You focus on the music in your ears as Tommy stitches your wound, and Annabel watches from the armchair opposite you. Once he's finished stitching your wound, Tommy lightly taps your arm. You look over at him with confusion until he tilts his head down towards your arm, and you follow his gaze. Slowly and carefully, you lift your arm and inspect his work. To your surprise, Tommy has done a decent job; the stitches are small and even. You consider thanking him for sewing up your wound, but you find yourself unable to muster the words of appreciation.

"How many times have you been stitched up? You barely flinched," Tommy's voice breaks your thoughts as he finishes up and discards the remaining thread, closing up his med pack.

You remain silent for a moment, processing his question as you look at your new scar and wondering if you should answer it. You consider explaining that the music in your ears helped keep you calm or that your pride and desire not to seem weak kept you from making a fuss, but you decide against it. Instead, you simply shrug in response to his question, leaving him to draw his own conclusions.

"She has a weird tolerance to pain," Annabel suddenly interjects into the conversation, and both you and Tommy's heads snap towards her in surprise."I remember once when we were kids, she fell down a concrete path on a hill, and she pretty much tore all the skin from her leg," Annabel continues, and both you and Tommy share a look as you recall the memory. "There was so much blood, and she just got up and didn't care. I think I cried enough for her," Annabel adds lightly.

Tommy watches you, his face neutral but his eyes betraying a small flash of surprise at the revelation about your high pain tolerance.

You want to say something, anything, to deny Annabel's words, but you can't find the words to say. Instead, you simply smile slightly and shrug.

"Well then," Tommy nods in response to Annabel as he stands up from the chair. "I passed a river about an hour's walk back. How about we get you cleaned up, and then I can bandage that arm?" His smile warms his expression, and he extends a hand towards you.

Your response is immediate and harsh, swatting his hand away and glaring at him. "I can stand by myself," you growl out, and your tone and body language make your irritation clear. You're not ready to trust him yet, and he knows it. Even so, he continues to smile and keeps his tone light.

"Alright, little miss sunshine," Tommy teases in response to your glare, and you can't help but roll your eyes in annoyance.

You remove the headphones and turn off your walkman, stowing them away in your bag before standing to face him. You reluctantly holster your gun and cross your arms, glaring in his direction.

“If you try anything-”

"You'll shoot me, I get it, Sunshine," he responds with a smirk, unbothered by your harsh tone. He adjusts his bag on his back and begins to walk out of the room. His body language is relaxed despite the tension in the air. He doesn't seem to take any offence to your words or demeanour.

"I like him," Annabel grins as she picks up her own bag and begins to follow him. "He doesn't put up with your bullshit," she remarks as she passes you, picking up her ball on the way out, and you grimace slightly at her words, annoyed by her attempt at humour.

It took you two weeks before you stopped keeping a hand on your holstered gun around Tommy.

Now

Spring 2024

You continue tossing the rubber ball against the wall, your mind fixated on the object in your hands. Your mind wanders to the lifeless bodies that litter the room, the souls you took in cold blood. The room is cold to the touch and feels devoid of life. You look around at the corpses surrounding you and feel nothing. They deserved this. Deserved worse than this.

The soft groans from the last remaining man fill the room, where he sits tied to the chair in the middle of the room. He is barely alive after what you did to him, and you left him to suffer instead of a quick death.

You have never been one to believe in religion, but as you sit in the church basement, you feel uneasy about committing acts of murder on a once sacred ground.

You keep tossing the ball, watching it bounce off the rotting walls and floor, listening to the sound of it splashing in the blood that covers the floor. You try to focus on the ball and ignore the gruesome scene around you. But the more you try to block out the images, the clearer they become in the candle-lit room.

Your mind is a mess of conflicting emotions as you keep tossing the ball, flashbacks of your niece fill your thoughts—her laughter, her smile and then her blood as it soaks your clothes as you hold her for the final time. You throw the ball against the wall with even more force as you try to block out the thoughts of Annabel. The blood splatters over you from the splash from the ball, covering you in more cold blood. You sink to the floor, overwhelmed by regret and guilt.

You sit on the floor, surrounded by a sea of blood, numb to everything around you. Tears should've been streaming down your face, but no tears came. The tears never came, just numbness. You feel numb to the world, like a soulless creature who has lost their humanity. You are frozen in place, unable to move or see anything beyond the red blur in front of you.

You would kill for your old walkman. To have music again.

You listen to the footsteps and voices as they echo throughout the church, but you don't care who they belong to. You close your eyes, letting out a long, deep sigh, as you rest your head against the wall. You couldn't bring yourself to care or lift a finger to defend yourself.

You open your eyes and look up, finding Tommy staring at you, shock and relief on his face. He’s holding his rifle in his hands, and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene in front of him, at the mutilated man in the chair whose soft wheezes begin to rise at the sight of Tommy. Good , he is still alive and suffering.

Another man steps into the doorway behind him, but you don't care or pay attention to them, your mind still in a fog. You just stare back at Tommy with blank, empty eyes, not saying a word.

Tommy nods and steps over a body that blocks the doorway, followed by the man behind him.

“You were meant to wait for me.” Tommy avoids your eyes, his voice firm and authoritative as he stalks over to the tortured man.

“You were busy.” You mutter, mostly to yourself.

Tommy lifts the man's head by his hair and examines the torture and blood-stained scene you had caused. He nods in approval, a small smirk forming on both your faces as he lets the man's head drop back to his chest.

The man lets out a groan, but you feel no pity or sympathy for him. You feel a surge of satisfaction at the sound of the man's pain, a sense of justice being served for what he had done to your niece. He deserves to suffer for his crimes.

"They could have killed you, Sunshine," Tommy's southern accent drew out his words as you shook your head at his nickname for you. The nickname felt like a stab to the heart, a reminder of who you had been before your niece's death.

Maybe he still believes in you, even after everything you have done. Maybe there was still some good left in you, some shred of humanity. But you weren't so sure anymore. You enjoyed killing them, after all.

“I think we both know they didn’t stand a chance.” You huff out a dry laugh, frowning as your stomach begins to hurt from the movement.

Tommy shakes his head as he bends down to collect your knife and gun on the floor you had dropped after you had killed everyone.

You had become a deadly pair, hunting down and killing those responsible for your niece's death. Maybe you had lost yourself along the way to the neverending anger, but Tommy still believed in you and still saw the good in you even though you couldn't.

"Your luck will run out one day," the other man's voice startles you, sounding low and gruff. You look up from Tommy and turn your eyes towards the man behind him, who is holding a shotgun. You narrow your eyes, trying to remember who he is. You haven’t seen him around Jackson before. But even if he lived there the whole time, you were never good with faces. Who is he ? You remain wary and on edge, not sure who to trust except for Tommy.

Tommy seems to sense your distrust, and he turns back to the man behind him, his hand outstretched. “This is Joel. Remember?”

Joel? There was no way this was Joel, his brother, right?

“My brother.” He continues, and you tilt your head in a nod. “He was in Jackson for a night a while back... You remember that, right?”

You stare at Joel, studying his appearance and comparing it to Tommy's. He certainly looks like him, but he is definitely older. He has the same dark hair as Tommy but scattered with a few grey hairs. You aren’t sure whether that is from the stress of the apocalypse or his age.

Your brow furrows, and you shake your head, your memory of him lost. "I was beginning to worry that your first impression of me would be one of a blood-soaked killer." You grin through drowsily-lidded eyes as the exhaustion from the bloodshed begins to weigh heavily on you.

Joel keeps darting his eyes between you and the carnage around him. You can see him taking in the scene you had created, his face showing a mix of shock and curiosity.

“You don’ need to worry about what I think of ya, darl’” Joel mutters, his eyes not meeting yours as he nudges a corpse on the ground with his foot.

"Nice to know what you'll look like in a few years, though, old man," You chuckle with a lighthearted tone. But as you finish the sentence, you feel a pain in your stomach and begin to wince and cough. The air is tight in your lungs, and you can barely catch your breath. The adrenaline from the fight is slowly wearing off, making you more aware of your injuries. Your hand shoots to your stomach as you clutch it, trying to steady your breath through the new pain.

Shit . The anger and numbness is starting to slip, and you begin to feel your body once more. “Tommy,” You gasp as pain and panic soar through you.

Tommy shoves his gun into Joel's chest and strides the short distance to you. He kneels before you and assesses you for any of your injuries. His voice is stern as he questions, "How much of this blood is your own?" Although his voice is unwavering, you can see the fear in his eyes as he looks down at you.

You look down at yourself and see how much blood you are covered in. It is hard to tell what is yours or your victims' blood. You try to recall the fight, but everything is a blurry mess inside your head from your mind being clouded with anger. You feel sick, the pain creeping through your body. You aren’t used to physical pain; you don’t know how to deal with the unwanted feeling.

"I don't know," You reply. "I think most of it belongs to them..." You gesture towards the lifeless bodies that surround you.

Tommy nods and lifts up your shirt, and you let out a grunt of pain as the shirt is stuck to your skin from the blood. You wince at the sight, following his gaze to the large slash covering your stomach. Confusion washes over you, not understanding how you could have missed an injury like that. Reality begins to sink in at the state of your injury, and you feel terrified. A feeling you aren’t used to.

You let out another pained grunt as his hand reaches out to touch the wound, instincts taking over and making you grab his wrist defensively.

"Don't," You gasp, too weak to hold it together anymore. “It hurts Tommy. Why does it hurt?” The pain begins to rise along with the nausea. Your stomach churns, and your grip on Tommy tightens as you lean over to the side and dry reach. Tommy grabs your hair and holds it back with his free hand as you finally spill your stomach’s contents on the floor beside you. Your head throbs, the overwhelming dizziness clouding your head.

“You’re okay, Sunshine. You’re going to be okay.” Tommy whispers, letting go of your hair and wiping the vomit from your mouth.

“She good?” Joel questions from across the room.

Tommy slowly nods. “It’s not deep, but if she’s feeling the pain, it's fucking bad.” He grimaces at the sight of your stomach.

Tommy reaches his hand out to Joel and asks for the bandages in his brother's backpack. Joel shifts his backpack off his back and kneels on the blood-stained floor as he digs through his bag to find the supplies.

You wheeze, the pain of vomiting with your wound overbearing.

Tommy catches the bandages as Joel tosses them to him. He unravels the bandages and sighs an apology before applying pressure to your wound. You grit your teeth, suppressing a groan at the pain.

Joel moves over to the man you had left alive and studies his injuries. “She really do all this by herself?”

Tommy holds back a laugh as he tries to slow your bleeding. “What can I say? She learnt from the best.” He teases.

After managing to slow the bleeding, he begins to wrap your stomach in bandages, taking care to apply the bandage tightly. Tommy takes his time with careful hands to make sure it is done correctly and protects you from further damage. The entire process is done with care and concern, your well-being being the most important thing to him at the moment.

You roll your head to the side and search for the rubber ball, spotting it in a pool of blood. You go to reach for it, but Tommy leans over and picks it up, shaking the blood from it and pockets it.

Tommy swears as you cry out in pain as he slips a hand under your outstretched legs and behind your back. He grunts as he lifts you up into his arms, and you grip his jacket tightly. You press your head into his chest, trying to distract yourself from the pain that is starting to creep through your veins. The adrenaline that surges through your body in the heat of the fight begins to wane, and the full impact of the pain starts to set in. You try to remain calm and still, your breaths shallowing as you wait for the pain to pass.

Tommy turns and walks past Joel, pausing in the doorway as his brother speaks up. "We're not killing him?" Joel questions, his tone sceptical as he gestures to the man tied to the chair with his gun. He looks back at us, where you remain nestled in Tommy's arms.

“Was gonna let him suffer,” you explain between breaths, and Tommy’s hands hold you tighter at your words. “But you can do whatever you want to him.” You mumble as you lean into Tommy’s embrace, the blood loss making you exhausted.

Joel nods and points his shotgun at the tied man.

You feel the warmth of Tommy's body and his heart beating against your cheek, giving you a sense of comfort. You raise your head to look at him as his voice shouts over his shoulder as he leaves the room to ascend the stairs from the basement, "And do it quick! We gotta get her back to the clinic."

Joel's voice drifts through the walls, uttering a few muffled words. But before you can decipher what he said, a gunshot stops the other man's pleas, and the walls around you shake. Time seems to stand still as you realise what has just happened. The man was dead, and that gunshot had meant one thing - Joel had done the deed. Finishing what you started.

Chapter 2

Notes

Hey guys!! I've been writing and posting small concepts of this story and decided to start writing a more detailed story.

Thank you for all the love so far! This is my first longer fic that I've actually stuck with and I'm really glad you are all enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it!

Divider by the beautiful saradika

Also a layout of the house mentioned in the first part!

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel tlou #tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #fanfiction #joel fanfic #joel x f!reader #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #tommy miller #tlou tommy

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atimeofyourlife · 11 months

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@steddie-week day 1 pining

Steve always fell hard and fast, and he'd never been scared of doing something about it. Any girl he'd fallen for, he'd be happy to pursue them, sometimes he was successful, often he wasn't. He had the attitude that the worst that they could say was no. But this was different. He had fallen for Eddie somewhere between taking a denim vest to the face in the Upside Down and getting called "Big boy" in the front of a hotwired RV. And he was terrified about what he meant, sure he'd found other guys attractive before. He'd even had a small crush on Tommy Hagan that he'd never admit to. But it'd never been anything like this, the feelings so similar to what he once felt for Nancy. The small touches that made him flustered, the in-jokes that had him riding a high for hours, the flirting that made him question everything about where he stood with Eddie, drifting off into daydreams about a future and a family together. He was terrified about it going wrong.

He confided in Robin about it. She was the only person he'd told about being bisexual, after he heard the word from Vickie. He'd accepted liking both, but it was nice to know that there was a word for it, and that he wasn't the only one. Robin hadn't exactly been helpful about his feelings for Eddie, encouraging him to at least come out to Eddie.

"I mean he's cool with me being a lesbian and Vickie being bi, and he's cool with us dating. I don't see why he wouldn't accept you being bi. It's not like he's an asshole or anything." Robin insisted while they were working.

"Well, he can be kinda an asshole. And it's different. You're girls. You don't pose a threat to him, it's not like you and Vickie being together changes anything for him. With me being bi, I like him. I want to be with him, and straight guys feel threatened by that. Do you know how many guys on the basketball team got off to lesbian porn, but would break a guy's nose for looking just a little too long? Newsflash, it was most of them." Steve dropped his head onto the counter, not wanting to think about what could go wrong.

"First of all, gross. You owe me lunch for putting that image in my head. And Eddie isn't like those guys. He's not going to hurt you for liking guys. Or are you just going to make me watch you pining over him your whole life?" Robin asked, nudging him.

"I'm not pining." Steve hissed, before quickly straightening up as he heard the bell over the door chime. "Hi, welcome to Family Video, please let us know if you need- oh, hey, Eddie."

"At someone's excited to see me. Where's your enthusiasm, Buckley?" Eddie said as he approached the desk.

"Any enthusiasm I have dies when I walk in those doors, and comes back to life when I walk back out of them," Robin replied dryly.

"I'm always excited to see you, Eddie." Steve deadpanned, hoping he wouldn't be able to see through the words.

"Excited enough to waive my late fees for these?" Eddie asked holding a stack of four Friday the 13th tapes, but Steve already had the screen open to clear them.

"Already done. I hope you took the time to rewind them, Munson." Steve replied as he started checking the cases.

"I would do anything for my favorite Family Video employee, Stevie." Eddie winked at him before moving away to look for another movie.

Steve fought back a blush, and tried not to over think it.

"How's that crush, Stevie?" Robin whispered in a mocking tone.

"Shut up," Steve whispered back, keeping his eyes on Eddie, hoping he hadn't heard the exchange.

"So, what do you say about a movie night at mine tonight.? I've got the movies, and any other provisions." Eddie asked as he came back to the counter. Robin started checking out the movies.

"Sure, need me to bring anything?" Steve replied, wanting to make the most of his time with Eddie.

"Just your pretty self, Stevie." Eddie smiled at Steve. "And Buckley if she's in?"

"Yeah. Vickie's out of town, so it's not like I have anything better to do." Robin handed the movies back to Eddie.

"We get off at six," Steve added.

"Just come over any time, I'll be waiting for your arrival." Eddie winked at Steve again, before leaving.

"I'm so screwed." Steve dropped his head back onto the counter as soon as the door shut. "How does he get away with coming in here looking like that and calling me pretty."

"I believe you now, totally not pining or anything. You're just so normal about your friendship with Eddie." Robin hopped up onto the counter next to Steve, determined to keep bugging him about it.

After work, Robin had to convince Steve that it would be weird to go home and change before heading over to Eddie's.

"I get that you have this huge crush on him or whatever, but he saw you like this earlier, so he'd know that you changed just for him. That you wanted to make yourself look good for him." Robin pointed out as Steve started to drive.

"Jesus, Rob, you don't need to lay it on so thick. I get it, I'm hopeless." Steve sighed. He just wanted to get through the evening without anything going wrong.

When he pulled up outside the small house the government had given Eddie and Wayne in the aftermath of the Upside Down, he stopped to check his hair and appearance in the mirror of his car.

"You look fine, Dingus. Eddie's not going to care that you look the exact same as you did when he saw you four hours ago." Robin called from where she was standing on the top step.

The movie night started as normal, with Eddie rambling as he got the tv set up.

"So Gareth is trying to set me up with his cousin. And nothing against the guy, he's nice and pretty attractive, but it wouldn't be fair to him because I'm interested in another guy right now." Eddie said as he plugged the wires in.

Steve froze. The only thing going around his head was the words 'interested in another guy.'

"Guy, huh?" Robin asked, elbowing Steve in the side to pull him out of his mini freak out.

"Uh, yeah. I'm bisexual." Eddie admitted a little shyly.

"Me- bi- same." Steve stuttered out, not wanting Eddie to think he was against it. "I mean, me too. I'm bi as well."

"Cool." Eddie flashed a smile at Steve, before coming over to join them on the couch.

After the first movie, while Eddie was in the bathroom, Steve and Robin had a hurried conversation.

"Now's your chance. Ask him out, you know he also likes guys. You can do this, Steve." Robin said quickly, almost bouncing in her seat.

"Didn't you hear? He said he's interested in another guy. I don't want to ask him out just to get turned down." Steve pointed out.

"He said he didn't want to date Gareth's cousin because he was interested in another guy. You might be that other guy. If you ask him out the worst that could happen is he says no."

"The worst that could happen is I make it awkward by having feelings for him and it wrecks our friendship. I don't want to ruin anything, Robin." He replied a little sadly.

"You won't ruin it. He won't think badly of you for liking him."

"Can you just drop it for tonight? I want to just get through the movie without thinking about how pathetic I am." Steve turned away from her, signalling the end of the conversation as Eddie walked back in.

It was getting late when Steve and Robin were leaving, both wanting to get home as they were working another opening shift the next day.

"Hey, Steve? Can I talk to you a minute?" Eddie called as Steve went to follow Robin out the door.

"Yeah, man. What's going on?" Steve folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, hoping to look casual.

"Are you busy Saturday night? I was wondering if you'd want to get dinner or something? With me? Just us?" Eddie asked, tripping over his words a little.

Steve flushed slightly. "I-I'd like that. What were you thinking?"

"I'm gonna plan something good. I'll pick you up at eight?"

Steve took a step closer to Eddie. "It's a date."

Now crossposted on AO3

#steddieweek2023 #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddie fluff #a little robin x vickie as a treat #i nearly chose the prompt somebody to love with a really angsty idea bc apparently i write angst now but this happened instead #atimeofyourwrites #this was written in a bit of a rush bc i only decided a few hours ago to take part in steddie week

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anarcoqueer1994 · 1 year

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TW: transphobia:(

But it has a fluffy Steddie ending.

After Spring break, after Vecna was defeated, after Max and Eddie lived, after everything had finally settled down, she finally felt comfortable to come out. Stevie, despite being terrified that it could change everything, told her friends she was a girl, and to her delight, every single one of them was loving and supportive. And they supported her as she started to present more femininely in public, starting off with a little make up, but eventually working her way up to dressing more how she felt, even daring to wear pretty little dresses, and growing her hair out. And of course people were mean to her. It was 1980s small town Indiana, after all.

But she had her friends, people who loved her. She and Robin got a place together after her parents kicked her out, disowned her. Anyone of her friends, including the teens still in high school, were ready to pounce on anyone who had anything shitty to say. There was a particularly brutal time when Erica told off some mom who dared to insinuate that Stevie, because of who she was, was dangerous, perverted.

And Stevie's own mean girl streak came back in full force, when needed. She wasn't above bitching out some asshole who deserved it.

During this time, other things changed too. Eddie, who she had saved, carried out of the Upside-Down, stayed by his hospital bed for weeks, became one of her closest friends. They spent so much time together, Stevie loving how comfortable Eddie made her feel. Little does she know, Eddie, had fallen head over heels for her.

Unfortunately for him, Stevie was with someone else; Tommy. After she had come out, she had run into him. She had been wearing light, pretty makeup, and a soft pink skirt that Nancy had given her. She had been ready for a fight, ready for Tommy to insult her, berate her, but he didn't. Instead, he apologized for everything. He apologized for high school, for not being a better friend, and asked if they could maybe try again.

And Stevie knew what it felt like to want to change, to want another chance, so maybe against her better judgment, she gave him a chance. And for a while, things seemed better. After a few months, Tommy even confessed his feeling for her, told her she was beautiful, asked her out, and she said yes. They went to a basketball game that night, and had the time of their life.

But it's been a year, and their relationship isn't perfect. It's hard and they have to work at it but Stevie was always willing to give Tommy another chance. To her friends though, they watched on as Tommy repeatively would slip into his old ways, and how he wasn't always the nicest to her. But she kept taking him back, and they didn't know why. Unbeknownst to them, though, she was desperate for someone to love her romantically and with how mean people could be to a transwoman, she convinced herself, this was her only chance.

That all changed one night. Eddie was at home, alone in the trailer, as Wayne was at work. It was raining hard, and thunder continuously shook the trailer. He had been watching some b-rated horror film, when a pound at the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. He wasn't expecting anyone.

He cautiously heads to the door and opens it, only to find Stevie standing in the rain, makeup running, and looking like she was about to break. Without thinking, he throws his arms around her, pulling her in close. She instinctively buries her head in the crook of his neck. He feels silent tears against his skin.

He pet her hair softly, wanting to know what has made his usually strong friend crumble. He had seen Stevie tear monsters in half, heard stories about how she endured the torment of the Russians, hell, she deals with terrible, mean people every day. And yet, here she is looking so hurt in his arms.

After a minute, Eddie pulls away slightly. "Hey, let's get you inside, princess. You're going to get sick." Eddie says gently, the pet name came out without a second thought.

This seems to snap Stevie out of it, pulling away. "Oh my God, Eds. I am so sorry, I don't know why I came here." Guilt starts to creep in over burdening Eddie with her problems. "I...um, I'm just going to go home." She starts to back down the steps. But she doesn't get far before Eddie has gently grabbed her wrist.

"No, Stevie. Come in, please?" Eddie gently implores, knowing how she keeps things bottled up, how she is always there for his problems, everyone's problems.

She wants to say no, but she is helpless against Eddie’s requests. She ignores the feeling in the back of her head that secretly wants more from Eddie, focuses on how good of a friend he is instead. She timidly nods her head, following Eddie in.

She stands shivering in the doorway, not wanting to sit down and get the furniture wet. She is drenched from standing in the rain. Eddie wonders how long she has been standing there before working up the courage to knock.

She doesn't say anything as Eddie walks to his bedroom, bringing back dry clothes a moment later. Luckily, he has the soft, pretty yellow cardigan she left here last time they smoked together. It is distinctly feminine, knowing that sometimes, when Stevie wears more traditionally masculine items, she gets in her own head and experiences a disconnect. Robin explained it as dysphoria once. The pretty sweater softens the plain oversized Metallica T-shirt and sweat pants he hands her. She shyly takes the clothing to the bathroom, where she changes, coming out minutes later.

When she does, Eddie is waiting on the couch. "Thanks." She says uncharacteristically soft, as she takes a seat next to Eddie on the couch.

"No problem." He tries to stay calm, trying not to get mad at whatever caused his favorite girl...his favorite person, to get so upset.

He twists his body, so they are both looking at each other. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Stevie looks away, embarrassment covering her face. "It's dumb."

"Stevie, I bet it's not. Whatever made you look like that couldn't be dumb." Eddie reassures.

"It's...um Tommy." She starts, and immediately Eddie sees red. He has watched as Tommy continuously let her down. But he has never seen it be this bad. He tries to not lose it.

"What did that piece of shit do?" He spits despite his best efforts.

"Eds..." She says gently.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just don't like how he treats you."

"I, um, agree, actually. I don't like how he treats me either. I think it's really over this time." She says, voice trying to sound confident but wavering anyway.

Eddie is not sure if he believes that. Tommy has hurt her before, and she has taken him back. But he does not let his doubt show on his face. "What happened?"

She thought it was going to be a good day. Tommy had taken them to a Hoosier's game, one of Stevie's favorite teams. It was supposed to be fun. But when they got there, Tommy kept his distance. He barely talked to her, touched her, really did anything to indicate he knew her, let alone that they were dating. It made her feel terrible the entire game.

This was compounded by the fact that quite a few people around them made comments about her. She wasn't cis passing, not having the money to do anything medical, and not really wanting to yet. And she was fine with that. She still had felt beautiful today when she had pulled her hair up in a pink scrunchie and donned a floral crop top and jean shorts that Robin and Eddie had bought for her. She had pretty soft eyeshadow and a pink lip gloss, and was wearing the pair of purple earings Nancy gave her. But people around them, weren't so nice, made jokes and hateful remarks, calling her a tranny or faggot. And she was sadly used to this, knew how to bite back with bitchy words, but it hurt that Tommy didn't say anything, just pretended he did not know her. To top it off, a pretty blonde girl sitting nearby was flirting with him the entire game, and he didn't stop it, actually flirted back as Stevie watched.

After the game, in the car ride home, Stevie sat quietly stewing in her own anger and hurt until Tommy put his hand on her thigh and she pushed him away.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" He asks dumbly.

"Are you kidding me?" She snaps.

"What?" He feigns ignorance.

"You literally pretended like I did not exist the entire game! All those assholes were insulting me and you pretended you didn't know me! You were too busy flirting with that other girl! You wouldn’t even hold my hand and but you were all over her.

"Oh, come on, baby." He pleads as he drives. "You know what kind of attention you draw to yourself. Why don't you just wear your old clothes when we go out? People would just think we are just two guys hanging out."

The words cut deep, but Stevie tries not to show it, keeps up her best bitch face. "But we aren't two guys...I'm your girlfriend. And you said you liked my outfits."

"I do like your little outfits, you know I think you look sexy. But maybe they should just be between us, for when we are alone and can have some fun. " He tries to say smoothly.

Stevie's heart drops, she can't hide the agony, the pain in her voice. "Wait...is that all I am to you? The way I dress and look is just some weird fetish? Just for you to get off on?"

"It's not like that!" Tommy says defensively. "It just in public, it's embarrassing when you wear girls' clothes because it's not like you're a real..." He stops short, realizing what just came out of his mouth.

Stevie closes her eyes, trying to will away the tears that she felt coming on but it is useless. "Not a real what, Tommy?" She chokes out.

"That's not what I meant!" Tommy puts his hand up as he comes to a stop light now back in Hawkins.

"Come on just say what we both know you're thinking! Not a real woman!" Stevie is shouting now through her tears. The weather outside getting worse, rain starting to fall.

"Stevie, I didn’t mean it..." He says pathetically.

Stevie looks down, shakes her head. In a defeated voice, she whispers. "Yes, you did." Without a second thought she gets out his car, running in the rain away from him. She kept running until she was Eddie’s doorstep. Tommy didn't bother to go after her.

Stevie finds herself in tears again as she finishes recounting what happened. Eddie is practically shaking, angry over what Tommy did to this beautiful, wonderful human being overtaking him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Eddie spits.

Suddenly, Stevie grabs his hand, holding it in her lap. "No, Eds. He isn't worth it, okay?"

He meets her eyes, his face softening when he sees all the pain dancing in her brown eyes, replacing the sparkle that usually takes refuge there. "Oh Stevie..." He says her name so reverently, like a prayer almost. He places his free hand on her cheek, she leaning into it. "You know what he said, isn't true, right?"

"I...I know." She lets out a sad sigh. "I just thought he was one of the people who actually saw me for who I really am, I thought he accepted me. For fuck sakes, we've been friends since we were 12. But I'm an idiot who was so desperate for someone to love me that I let him use me. And I am so fucking stupid to think someone would actually want to be with someone like me..."

Eddie’s feels a pang in his heart, hating to see how small Tommy made Stevie feel. He would never make her feel less than, make her feel small. "I don’t think you're stupid. Please don't say that..." He whispers, hand still resting against her face.

"Eddie..." That voice in the back of her head that always has wanted more, the voice she tries to ignore because she wasn't single and Eddie couldn't possibly feel the same way, is trying to push through.

"Stevie, can I ask you something?" His voice is gentle.

"Yea, anything."

"Why did you come here? Why didn’t you go home, crawl in Robin's bed and cry together?" Eddie feels invasive asking but the words already left his mouth.

Stevie pulls away, looking anywhere but at Eddie, a blush showing through her tear stained face. "I...I don't know. I didn't choose to, like...consciously. I just started running and my body brought me here...I'm sorry..." she is obviously embarrassed.

"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, kitten." The name elicits a deeper shade of pink on her face. She nervously looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes once again. He scoots closer, taking both of her hands in his, being gentler than he ever is. His loud over the top attitude replaced with a softness reserved only for Stevie. "I'm glad you came. How else would I have been able to tell you that if...if you would let me, I would never make you cry like this. You're much too pretty to have such ugly words thrown at you. Tommy doesn't know how much of an idiot he is because you're great, Stevie. I love everything about you, even when you make me watch some sports thing on TV. " He cracks a smile. Eddie knows he is taking a big risk, practically laying his heart out on the table for all to see. But how can he not when the prettiest girl in the world is sitting here in front of him, terrified that no one will love her.

A beat passes. Then two, before Stevie is smiling big, eyes still blood shot, but happiness shining through. "You really mean that, Eds?"

Eddie lets go of a breath he did not know he was holding. He lets out a little breathy laugh, smiling from ear to ear. "Cross my heart, princess. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yea, anything." She scoots closer, legs folded up underneath her practically touching Eddie's.

"I hated Tommy."

"Obviously. " Stevie cuts him off. "You literally named the villain of your last campaign "Thomas the Horrible." She giggles.

"Yea, I guess I wasn't so secretive about that." He pulls his hair across his blushing face. "But most of me hated him because of how he treated you, but another part of me, a big part of me, was jealous that he got the girl of my dreams."

Stevie is blushing even more before playfully hitting Eddie’s shoulder. "You're such a sap!"

"Yea, I am." Eddie readily admits.

"But it's okay... I like it. I like you, Eds. I've liked you since I saw you in the halls my freshmen year. And over the past year and half, since Vecna, since I thought I lost you for good, I realized that I love you. I just never thought you could see me like that."

"Like what?" Eddie whispers as he leans in, forehead resting against Stevie's.

"Like your girlfriend." Stevie admits.

"I would be the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my girlfriend, kitten." He puts his hands on either side of Stevie's face before pressing a his lips against hers. Stevie's lips are soft and warm, and feel great against his admittedly chapped lips. She tastes like strawberries.

"Love you too, Stevie." He says as they pull apart.

And it's like second nature as Stevie settles against him, cuddling together watching TV. It's like they were always meant to fit together. And for the first time in a long time, Stevie was content.

Thanks for reading! Feeling very gender dysphoric and need some fluff to feel better. Also I totally picture Stevie going to Eddie’s shows in a black leather mini skirt, and fishnets and a cropped Corroded Coffin shirt , just to get Eddie riled up while he was on stage.

#stranger things #steddie #steve and eddie #stevie harrington #trans steve harrington #eddie munson #fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction

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little-annie · 1 year

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Something More | Little_Annie

The smuty start to something more

TW homophobic language & threats

He's not gay. He's not.

But he'd be lying if he said his eyes didn't linger in the change rooms or on the court every once in a while.

But he'd be lying if he said there wasn't anything he found intriguing about other men. But it's just appreciation, that's all it is. He can appreciate Billy Hargrove's toned exterior, his tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. He can appreciate 'The Freak's,' slender frame, bouncy curls and deep chocolate gaze. Or Jake's biceps or Ethan's smile or Andrew's laugh. He can appreciate all of it, doesn't mean he's attracted to them. Doesn't mean he's gay. He can't be. He likes women.

He likes women so much he has a new one under his tongue weekly, sometimes even daily. He likes their soft skin, their gentle curves, their buttery moans. The way they wither and whine beneath him. The way they scream his name and claw his back.

But if he's being honest, it hasn't been enough lately.

Who would've thought 'The King' would have issues getting off, let alone getting it up. He's found himself in that unfortunate scenario more often than he'd like to admit lately. Choosing to eat a girl out not only because he wants to but because he can't get hard enough to fuck her or lord forbid fake an orgasm because he can't get off and his mind is trying to wander to places he really doesn't want it to.

But those times when he does let his mind wander, well, then there's no problem at all. Smooth sailing. It's just that he's maybe imagining corded muscle and strong hands versus the delicate body and dainty touch he's experiencing.

He's not gay. He just needs more.

And well, maybe he has an idea on how to get more.

You see, he's heard rumours, saw the scribings on the bathroom stalls. He knows or at least he thinks he knows who he can go to for… more. Though his past assholery might make that a little difficult.

He wouldn't say he's proud of how he treats people; the geeks, the freaks, the band nerds. But it's not like he's the one doing it, he just doesn't say anything when it's Tommy or another jock being the asshole. As much as people make him out to be the bad guy, he just doesn't like conflict, doesn't want to get in the way, doesn't want to be the nuisance, doesn't want to step in front of it for the chance of a crushing blow to the side of his skull. Lord knows he gets enough of that at home.

So yeah, maybe when Tommy is sneering down at 'The Freak,' snarling slurs and ramming his head into the cold steel of the lockers, he doesn't say anything, only stands off to the side and avoids eye contact because he can't quite bring himself to intervene and can't quite bring himself to contribute to the abuse.

It's an unfortunate thing because he's pretty damn sure 'The Freak' is the only guy he can go to for 'more.' The guy the scribings in the bathroom stalls speak of, the guy the whispers in the halls talk about. The guy said to give the best head of your life if you go to the bleachers after school.

He's not gay. He just needs more.

And that desire for more leads him to the belly of the bleachers, waiting impatiently after the last bell rings to see a leather clad man with appreciable brown eyes and flowing hair. It's only a few minutes that Steve has to wait before he sees him, leather and black, thick silver rings and an air of attitude. The definition of more.

"The fuck are you doing here Rich Boy?"

He can't quite bring himself to respond to the man's teasing tone, doesn't think he's ever actually talked to 'The Freak.' His voice, syrupy and thick, forces a knot to twist behind Steve's navel. He winces at the sensation, watching the other man approach with a daunting stride of confidence.

Why's his mouth so dry?

"Hey Pretty Boy, I'm talking to you."

He's closer now and still, Steve can't bring himself to speak.

"Listen, I don't know what the fuck you think this is, but I really don't feel like getting my face beaten in today by some dumb jock. So if you're not here to buy drugs or participate in other nefarious activities that I shall not name in your company, you can kindly fuck off."

Steve swallows around the nerves bubbling in his throat, can't quite pinpoint why he's so nervous. It's just 'The Freak', 'The Drug Dealer' the supposed 'Best Blowjob Giver in All of Hawkins.' Well maybe it's the latter, maybe that point is a little daunting. Or maybe it's that fact that his skin crawls with something akin to need, something that flares hot and heavy in his core when said 'Freak' steps into his space to snarl, "What the fuck do you want?"

"More?" He whispers, it's a quiet shaky thing, nearing on a question he sounds so unsure of his single muttered word.

'The Freak's' brows pinch together, his mask of confidence and aggression slipping for a second before he moves, devilish smirk across his lips, a single ringed finger catching under Steve's chin to turn his gaze up as he whispers, "Don't tell me 'The King of Hawkins High' is a queer, coming to lil' ole me for something his pretty little women can't give him."

Well, that problem he seems to have in the bedroom, yeah, um, it's currently a problem for another reason right now. His jeans are painfully tight. It's damn embarrassing the way this fucking guy is affecting him. The smell of leather, weed and cheap cologne. The cold sting of metal pressed under his chin, holding his head high to meet hauntingly dark eyes. His attitude, the snarl and the grit in his voice.

He can't manage words, only gulps, Adam's Apple bobbing around a non existent sentence. But his face must give something away, if the way 'The Freak' draws an eyebrow up and darkly chuckles is anything to do by.

"No shit, hey? I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not really. I see the way your eyes wander in the change room or linger just a little too long over Hargrove's ass. I'm not fucking blind Pretty Boy, just didn't think you'd have it in you is all."

"I do," Steve says out of absolutely nowhere. Where did that come from? That whiny, needy, nearly begging tone.

He's not gay but 'The Freak' is kinda making him weak in the knees.

God if the man's expression doesn't shift to something predatory at Steve's tone. It makes him needy, anxious, fucking desperate like he's never been before.

The finger that was once resting under his chin, moves to the back of his head, a large hand skating through his hair until it grips tight and gives a sharp pull forcing a rather embarrassing gasp to slip past his lips.

Dark eyes sear into his own as the other man speaks, "You listen and you listen fucking good. If this is all a ploy for your jock buddies to catch me in the act and beat me half to death for being a 'fucking fag,' know that I won't hesitate to shove a knife into your pretty little side." Punctuating his words with another sharp tug, he continues, "Got it?"

Steve nods, because what else can he do, he's speechless, hot, desperate and painfully horny. This is the definition of more and he's fucking weak for it. The grip in his hair is the only thing keeping him grounded as much as it's the same thing threatening to send him into orbit.

Another sharp tug, "Words."

"Got it," Steve chokes out, words mostly all air and heat.

'The Freak's' eyes search Steve's for a moment, probably looking for sincerity or the hint of a lie, but he must find what he's looking for because no less than a few short seconds later, Steve feels the grip in his hair tighten and a hand tightly clasp his hip,"Good. Now how about you get on your knees Sweetheart."

It's not a question, it's a command and Steve's gut twists with nerves. He wasn't expecting this. Not for him to be on his knees. He opens his mouth to protest but he's cut off with another sharp tug to his hair, encouraging him towards the ground, "Oh Honey, you weren't thinking you'd get off today were you? You've been a right prick to me for the last three years. Gotta make up for that if you want anything from me."

He's not Gay but he's a weak man and he drops to his knees with crushing force, face turned up, waiting for his next command.

"Look at you, being such a Good Boy for me already. Who woulda thought. 'The King' on his knees for 'The Freak." The man combs ringed fingers gently through Steve's hair, "I hate to say it, but you're quite pretty on your knees for me Rich Boy."

Never in his life had Steve Harrington been on his knees for a man. But god dammit if it doesn't get him going. His normally too soft cock is straining against the denim of his jeans, rubbing painfully along the seam. He attempts to swallow the whimper that the sensation shakes out of him.

Needless to say, he's unsuccessful.

'The Freak' smirks, sharp teeth and a dangerous smile, "You've never sucked a dick before have you Pretty Boy?"

Steve shakes his head, fighting the need to bury his nose in the prominent bulge in front of his face. Nerves and need swarm in his core but all he can manage is a desperate stare, no words, just hazel eyes looking up to the man above him. Waiting for instruction.

He looks contemplative for a moment, brown eyes searching Steve's face once again before he says, "Keep your hands to yourself. Behind your back. And do as you're told or we're done. Understand?"

Steve obliges, nodding wordlessly, moving his hands to clasp behind his back.

The other man leans down, a near terrifying glint in his eye while his grip in Steve's hair tightens, a sharp tug pulling him back to make eye contact while he growls, "I said: Understand?"

He doesn't know what comes over him, a needy whimper leaving his lips as absolutely mortifying words follow, "Yes Sir."

'The Freak' darkly chuckles against Steve's cheek, lightly biting the now rosy flesh before he whispers, "Good Boy."

Oh.

Oh wow.

Yep. That does something to him.

He's not gay…But having 'The Freak' call him a Good Boy and in that fucking tone…Well…

Steve stifles another groan watching as the man stands upright, moving to unfasten his stupid handcuff belt buckle with practised ease.

He speaks with a seriousness as he continues his motions, "As much as I fucking hate you, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, because frankly that's just disgusting." He stops his motions, belt undone, button unclasped and zipper down, his cock's nearly on display and Steve's mouth waters with the need to feel its weight on his tongue, "You know the Stoplight System?"

Steve whispers a quiet "No."

"Figured," 'The Freak' says with no malice to his tone, "There's Green, Yellow and Red. Just like a Stoplight you follow the same rules. Green means go, yellow means yield or slow down and red means stop. You can communicate colours anytime you need to. But when I ask you questions or for your colour, you respond accordingly. Got it?"

Steve nods

The other man asks, "Colour?"

"Green," Steve answers with a heat rising to his cheeks, his knees already beginning to burn from where they're resting in the rough soil.

And god dammit if that doesn't make 'The Freak' smile, "Good," he says, carding his fingers gently through Steve's hair, "and if your mouth's full Sweetheart. You tap out your colours. One for green, two for yellow and three for red. Okay?"

Steve nods again while the other man wordlessly moves the hand that was in Steve's hair down his cheek so it's resting on his jaw. Fingers holding light, his thumb brushes over Steve's bottom lip gently pressing it into the wet heat of his mouth. Steve hums around the intrusion, instinctively running his tongue over the tip and hollowing his cheeks.

'The Freak' hums in approval, pressing down with the lightest pressure against Steve's tongue, "Colour?"

Slowly Steve moves his hand to the man's wrist, porcelain skin cool under his warm touch, he taps gently, once, 'Green.'

"Good, now you're ready."

From there it's pretty straightforward, Steve knows how a blowjob goes, he's gotten many in his lifetime, but still, on the other end of this, it feels kinda foreign. At least with the instruction to keep his hands out of the mix he doesn't have to worry about what to do with those.

He watches as the other man pulls his hearty length from his boxers, thick and leaking and he can't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest knowing he did that. His mouth waters at the sight and wordlessly he drops his jaw and lays his tongue out flat.

"Eager are we?"

Steve hums an affirmative, inching closer on his knees.

He'd be lying if he said the sight before him wasn't doing anything to him. Christ, he hasn't been this hard in months, almost painfully throbbing in his jeans with need. He isn't gay but well… he's something.

The other man takes his own length in hand, ringed fingers wrapping around a thick base, tight curls pressed against the curl of his palm. It's warm and salty when the head of it slaps against Steve's tongue, a taste he'll savour like it's the nectar of the gods.

He's being impatient and he knows it, a needy whine escaping his throat he inches even closer. He doesn't know what's gotten into him but before he knows it he's choking, struggling to breathe as he pushes his head all the way forward, trying to bury his nose in dark curls.

The man above him chuckles around a gasp, voice almost shakey. Hand clasped tight in Steve's hair he pulls him back, "Don't hurt yourself there Princess. Breathe through your nose and swallow when you feel like you're going to choke."

Steve nods, his motions pulling on the grip on his scalp and he tries again, a hot coil of need blooming in his core as the man above him lets out a sharp gasp. With the little instruction he's managed to take all of the man in, swallowing around the length, thick head pressing down his throat. His nose is buried in the thick thatch of hair and he can't help but nuzzle into it with a greedy inhale. Sweat and musk and something that makes his toes curl wafts through his senses.

Steve hums around 'The Freak's' length in his own appreciation, the vibration travelling through the other man's body in a wave of pleasure. The grip in his hair tightens and Steve can't help but whimper at the sensation and good god he nearly combusts when he opens his eyes to take in the man above him.

Hair wild, dark and rolling in waves over his shoulders, gathering in the streams of sweat along his neck. Cheeks flushed in a rosy hue of need, a rather beautiful contrast to his pale porcelain skin. His brows are creased, lip bitten and eyes squeezed shut.

It's obvious he's trying to stay quiet, though he's failing miserably. Steve continues to watch him from below, eyes open and watering as he chokes down every inch. He pulls back and off with a dramatic 'pop', diving right back in to nose his way under the man's cock and take what he can of his testicles in mouth.

It's a weird feeling being on this end of things, generally he has no idea what he's doing but he can't hold in the carnal need to make the man above him crumble. Steve feels nearly desperate, his cock painfully straining against the seam of his jeans for what feels like eternity. Fuck, if this goes on for much longer he might just come in his pants.

And wouldn't that be fucking embarrassing.

Steve continues his ministrations while trying to focus on anything other than the balls in his mouth or the cock hanging heavy above his face. He focuses on the grip in his hair, the bite of gravel against his knees, the throbbing pain between his legs. Nothing works, it's just too fucking good.

He takes the man back in his mouth after licking a thick stripe from root to tip and begins bobbing his head. A sinful wash of sounds pollutes the air, gasps and moans and shaky breaths. Wet squelches and muffled gags. Steve's sure he contributes his own noises as he rocks his hips against the seam in his jeans.

The taste of precome continues to flood over Steve's taste buds, salty and sweet and god dammit if he doesn't become addicted to it. Addicted to the taste of this man's essence on his tongue, the sounds that escape his lips, the way he looks as he approaches the edge.

Above Steve, 'The Freak's' babbling, gasping around moans and hardly formed words, "mmm fuck, ho- how are you so good at this?" He chuckles an unbelieving laugh that's drowned out by a choked back moan as Steve takes him down to the hilt. "Jesus H Christ." He gasps, grip tightening in Steve's hair.

Every syllable sends Steve careening towards the edge along with the man. He's close, every roll of his own hips, every sharp tug against his scalp, every moan from the man above.

But god dammit he still needs more.

Steve pulls off, a quick gasp of air and spit and precome hanging between them. 'The Freak' looks down at him with a brow raised and he's beautiful, looks absolutely wrecked, onyx eyes blown wide, face flushed red with his pending release and before he can say anything, Steve asks or more or less begs, "Fuck my face, please."

"Fuck," the man huffs before he checks, "You sure?"

Steve nods, "Please."

"Jesus Christ." He huffs once again before laying his cock over Steve's tongue once again, then he's snaking his other hand into Steve's hair, giving him an experimental pull forward.

Steve's eyes flutter in response, the man's thick length sliding slowly over his tongue and down his throat. He can't help the whine that rattles up his throat.

"You like that or something Sweetheart?"

Steve hums again, moving his hand to the man's wrist to tap once, 'Green' and he chances to leave it there. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to feel more of this man under his touch.

They continue from there, 'The Freak' pressing his length over Steve's tongue until they're both leaking and shaking with the need of release.

Gravels digs into his knees and his scalp burns in such a beautiful way, Steve's hanging off the edge by his fingertips and he's only pushed that much further as the man above him gasps, "Wh-Where - fuck - mm- can I come in your mouth Baby?"

Baby

Baby. Baby. Baby.

Steve fails to hold back a groan at not only the question but also the nickname, it vibrates down the other man's length while he tightens his grip on a pale wrist and taps once, 'Green.'

For some reason in that moment Steve feels compelled to slide his hand into his own hair, lacing his fingers between thick rings and hard earned calluses, holding his hair tight, together. He's not shrugged off like he thought he would be and for some reason, that's the moment they both topple over the edge.

Salt and heat floods Steve's taste buds at the same time it does his underwear. Warm and slick, exiting his body with force. He groans something needy and desperate, bucking his hips forward as his mouth is pulled closer, nose pressed to pubes. The man above him gasps and bucks his hips forward with force, shuddering while squeezing Steve's fingers between his own.

Steve swallows, or at least tries to -god, now he kinda gets why girls hate that so much- he pulls off with a sharp inhale and presses his head the a denim clad thigh, spitting on the ground between them.

It's oddly tender for what it is, 'The Freak's' hands don't leave his hair, his grip only loosens and gently cards through mousy strands as they catch their breath together.

Steve's exhausted but satisfied; probably for the first time in months and all he had to do was blow a guy. Nothing even happened to him other than some nicknames that made his stomach flutter and some not so awkward hand holding.

They stay silent for a long while, Steve feels like he might fall asleep leaning against this man and it's an odd thing that he feels comfortable here, safe even. And that's a fucking wild thought, especially with a dick dripping come not more than a few inches from his face.

Steve can't help but chuckle at the thought.

"What?" The other man laughs quietly, tucking himself back in his jeans, standing upright, trying to help Steve do the same.

Steve shakes his head, burying it in the other man's shoulder. He can feel him tense beneath him and then seconds later slowly there's cautious arms wrapping around his shoulders, slow and soft while he continues to shake in silent laughter.

They stand there in what should be an awkward moment, but it's not and maybe that's the craziest part about this whole moment.

Steve Harrington knows this man from brash gestures and yelled opinions from atop lunch room tables. From the smell of leather and the clatter of chains. He's supposed to be weird and scary, he's supposed to be 'The Freak,' but for some reason Steve sees him as something else.

He sees him as more.

They're quiet for a moment and in those few short seconds a wild thought passes through Steve's mind. He pulls back, ever so slightly, only enough to meet the other man's eyes. He takes in the man's gaze, dark and speckled with amber, the freckles that dust over his nose and cheeks, the faint scar across his bridge and then he allows his eyes to wander lower.

Pink and perfect and beautiful, lips he wants to kiss with every fibre in his being. Steve sucks in a subtle breath letting his eyes float back up to meet those of the man before and like a silent gesture, he glances at his lips again as he whispers, "Colour?"

He watches sharp teeth bite into a pink bottom lip as he feels the grip around him tighten and then there's a subtle, hardly audible whisper, "Green."

#eddie munson #steve harrington #gay eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfiction #steddie au #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie smut

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bellabrady · 11 days

Note

Hey! I want to say absolutely no hate here, you can think whatever you want about characters, I just want to make some points for you to consider! If it makes you change your mind, cool! If it doesn’t, well that follow button doesn’t need my finger on it since we clearly have different views :)

I am not going to be commenting on Chim begins since I haven’t watched it in a while, but I just finished rewatching Hen Begins and was discussing Bobby Begins Again with someone, so here we go.

In Hen Begins, Tommy is never hostile towards her. He doesn’t defend her from the captain, but he’s also a young gay man who is probably terrified of that same hate being turned to him. When Hen is doing her speech on the fire truck most of the crew has tightened jaws and seems mad, but Tommy seems relaxed and thoughtful. And at the end of the episode he tells Hen: “We would’ve done a sweep of the area eventually, but eventually would’ve been too late. Good job.” with a smile and then proceeds to shake her hand and pat her on the shoulder. It is also heavily implied that he was one of the people who left a complaint about the captain and his treatment. Everything about this episode screams a man who was keeping his head low and trying to slip under the radar, not a man trying to be hateful.

In Bobby Begins Again, they throw him a nice going away party. I don’t know about you, but I don’t tend to buy assholes who are rude to me a cake.

Then later Chimney is able to call him up and ask a favor that Tommy does without complaint, which makes it seem like they’re on good terms.

And in the most recent episodes, he steals a helicopter and lies to higher-ups, something that could easily get him fired and cause him to lose everything. Once again, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t risk my job and my life (they were on a dangerous mission after all) for people I’m not good friends with.

Lastly, Buck does not strike me as the type to date someone who doesn’t like his friends, his family

Again, no hate, just giving you my observations

thank you for being so nice about this!

i do disagree, however. tommy was 100% hostile to hen in hen begins. ('new york bitchiness is a compliment?' for example, or him throwing gear at her feet so she'll tidy it up and barely sparing her a glance)

i also am simply not a fan of giving characters' past actions depth when it's very clear that back then, they weren't written with that depth in mind. i can promise you the writers did not write hen begins & chimney begins while thinking of tommy as a gay, closeted man. (yes, i'm aware there was that one jacob twilight joke but personally i think you might be giving the writers a little too much credit if you think that was planned forshadowing or something. it was just a silly scene)

furthermore, even if we do run with the whole 'tommy was afraid to speak up because he was afraid and closeted'...standing up against misogyny and racism has nothing to do with being closeted, since neither of those things are related to sexuality, so standing up against those things won't make anyone assume that you're gay. tommy being closeted isn't an excuse, in my opinion.

i'm also aware that the characters have forgiven tommy but i just...don't really care about that because in this show, everyone forgives everyone, constantly. buck forgave his parents and they have a good relationship now — that doesn't mean i have to forgive the buckley parents now too.

as for your last point, i'd argue taylor definitely wasn't the biggest fan of buck's friends and family and they weren't a huge fan of her either. but i also don't think that really matters here, since it's been established that tommy is good with hen and chim, so buck has no reason to assume there's bad blood. it once again boils down to the simple fact that i, as a viewer, do not have to forgive a character's actions simply because other characters did.

anyway, once again thank you for not being rude about this and i hope you have a nice day :)

(i hope my response doesn't come across as rude either)

#911 fox #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #evan buckley #9-1-1

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findafight · 9 months

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tbh i think ppl that genuinely think steve dragged her there kind of take nancy's behavior at the party in the best light/take nancy at her word bc,,,, we see nancy excited for the party to the point of spending time making a costume and encouraging jonathan to come only for her to start lashing out at steve right after they get there. like i always felt so bad for him when tommy and billy start harassing him and nancy literally rolls her eyes and just stalks off only to start heavily drinking specifically to spite steve given what she says about how she's just acting normal like he wanted (also that smug look she sends him right after continuing to drink). idk the way nancy starts acting out (this makes her sound like a 5 y/o throwing a tantrum but,,,, if the shoe fits) could make it seem as if she's been forced to do something against her will when taken out of context but in context she's literally just acting like a huge asshole to her boyfriend bc she's upset about something she hasn't even told him about. i get upset when i think about it too much bc ppl focus way more on the bullshit scene (for obvious reasons) but nancy really was treating steve like shit that whole night.

yeah like. Owens talks about "the anniversary effect", and I think that's hitting Nancy hard, and so she's lashing out! She's a teenager and she doesn't know how to handle her grief and her desire for justice. That's fine and she deserves to yell and cry about it. But she also isn't communicating what she actually needs from Steve because I don't think she really realized it until she saw the redhead in the library. And dropping that on him and kind of freaking out about it at school wasn't really the most appropriate place to have a deep discussion on what to do. (idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families)

We see Steve do his best to support Nancy by going to the dinners with the Hollands, and also encouraging her to go to the party, after we have been shown Nancy talking about it and inviting Jonathan and excited for it. He is engaging her with something she was looking forward to. idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families. Yeah maybe if she had asked him to come with her on the plan to entrap Owens he would have said no, but at least he would have known where she was at and what she was thinking, instead of the sudden one-off talk they had in the library.

I guess if people only watched tina's party and not anything that came before they could see nancy as completely correct and that steve was pretending while she didn't want to (instead of mostly pretending with Steve and having had one freak out about it in a place that people could overhear) and that he dragged her there. But it's astounding that people can watch Nancy smile and give the flyer to Jon and still say Steve was a bad boyfriend for taking her.

She is definitely drinking vindictively in the scene, even though for all Steve knows Nancy genuinely wanted to go and have fun at the party. He's trying to get her to slow down and idk I've seen some takes as this showing Steve is controlling but legitimately what the fuck else are you going to do when you see someone you care about (friend/partner/whatever) ignoring you and being kind of an ass and drinking way too much while obviously upset about something. Of course he would encourage her to slow down!

He doesn't know what's wrong because Nancy actually has a habit of not talking or communicating to her boyfriend what is upsetting her. Nancy is so over pretending but she has only barely broached that with Steve. He did try to shut it down, but I don't remember him saying he was unwilling to talk about it, just that it was a bad idea, and that Nancy was coming with this "tear the lab down" thing from nowhere.

Part of the problem is that Nancy had feelings for Jonathan and didn't know what to do about that, and so decided that actually, everything was Steve's fault, because he wanted to be normal, he wanted to go to the party and have fun, he wanted to date and be in love, when, to drunk Nancy's mind, she wanted none of that. (even though we are shown that that isn't true) So she's going to drink and she's going to have fun and she's not even in love. (idk it depends on the day for me if nancy was faking the whole time or did, at some point, fall in love with him and then out of love.) The whole party scene is a mess for Stancy and poor Steve has no idea why his girlfriend is drinking too much and suddenly acting like they're fighting when there's no reason to. and then he gets yelled at and told she's pretending to love him.

#findaanswers #Anonymous #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things #st2 #stranger things meta #sort of?#also to not that the narrative of the show not allowing nancy to be wrong enforces the view that steve fucked up worse than we see he did #like its this weird thing where we're shown one thing and told another by the reactions of all the characters its so weird

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ghostcombustion · 2 years

Text

Harrington's Little Sister

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Construction criticism is always appreciated. I do take requests :D Also, it's the last day of pride month so why not do something gay?

Summary : Scared to come out of the closet because of what the outside world might think, Y/n falls in a deep whole until she unexpectedly runs into someone.

Mentions : slight suicidal thoughts, homophobia

Word Count : 1,079

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Ever since you were younger, you always wondered why you couldn't be normal. Sure, your brother was practically the most popular guy in school but that didn't make you feel any more normal.

When it came to your brother, you were slightly scared of him. Of course, you knew Steve was a good guy, but you didn't know whether or not he would be accepting of you. And you didn't want to risk your relationship with him.

Stuck. You were absolutely stuck in a role you hated. One of the most thought-after girls in Hawkins. Pretending that you want to kiss him but rather, you wished it could be her.

The first day you passed her in the halls, it was love at first sight. Something about her was so enticing, but you knew you didn't have a chance. Even if there was the slimmest chance of Robin Buckely being gay, why would she go after you? You hung out with all the douchebags anyway so who would want to date you?

You watched her from the shadows. Hell, you were tempted to join band just to talk to her. Instead, Carol got you on the cheer team making the two of you live in two different worlds.

What made everything worse was Steve trying to find you a good man. You wished every night he would understand that's not what you want and never would.

Sometimes you thought life would be easier if you just didn't exist. Maybe in your next life, you would be normal.

Slowly, you began to resent your older brother. You were mad that he was an asshole to anyone who wasn't like him. You were angry that he chose to hang out with even bigger assholes. You were upset that he kept trying to control your life. And you were jealous he was able to love who he wanted to love.

You had seen the protest on Tv. Everyone has! Where they say it's not acceptable and is downright wrong. And you've seen your dad sit on the couch and nod his head. Big man's proud his kids are 'normal'; you guys aren't freaks. You were far from everything the world thought you were. You were basically an actor.

"Steve!" You exclaimed as he proceeded to break Jonathan Byer's camera.

It was wrong of him to do. The pictures were so wrong but in a way, photography was his escape. That camera didn't look cheap either. Yes, he deserved it, but a part of you felt wrong.

"Yeah! Get the hell out of here, queer." He mumbles while swinging back around to face you, Tommy, and Carol. "He deserved it."

You scoffed, "Yeah, maybe he did but did you have to call him that?"

Steve casually shrugged and rolled his eyes, "Why does it matter Y/n? If he did that to you, I would have beat his ass."

"That's not what I'm talking about!" You exclaimed before walking in the other direction.

"Where are you going?" He shouted out with a confused expression.

"Fuck off Steve!"

You could faintly hear Carol and Tommy start laughing, but you didn't care. Once you knew they couldn't see you, you ran. Where to? You didn't know. You just couldn't bear to see your brother's asshole behavior.

As much as you tried not to think about it, Steve's words bounced around in your head. He really would hate you if he found out, wouldn't he? Then he would tell dad and--- you didn't even want to think about it.

You could feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest and your eyes beginning to sting with tears. So you shut them and kept running. That's what you did until you ran face-first into something and slammed into the ground.

"Why the hell....." You could feel your face beginning to turn bright red with embarrassment. You quickly jumped up and dusted off your pants before reaching your hand out. "here, let me help you."

The freckled girl scoffed and got up on her own before beginning to walk away.

A pain in your heart made your mouth start speaking, "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

She turned around with her arms crossed. An annoyed expression was present on her face. "Yeah, sure. Apology accepted."

Her raspy voice made your heart just utterly melt. As she began to walk away, you took a few steps forward.

"Robin!" You called out without a single thought in your head.

The brunette swung around with a confused face, "You know my name?"

You rapidly nodded your head, "Yeah. Robin Buckley. A sophomore who's in band and plays the trumpet. Usually eats lunch in the hallways and always, always has an apple with her."

She lets out a little chuckle, "Observant, aren't you, Harrington?" She looked behind you and then behind her. "So, where are they?"

This time, you let out an awkward laugh, "What?"

Robin scoffed, "This has to be some sort of prank because there is no other reason why one of the most popular girls at this school is talking to me."

Nervously, you begin to fiddle with a piece of your hair, "Yeah, no prank. Just me. I was actually trying to get away from my brother and his friends. Sometimes, they're way too douchey."

"No not just sometimes, all the time."

You let out a hearty laugh, "You can say that again. It's called having no brain cells."

Robin raised a brow, "The asshole gene didn't get passed down to you, did it?" A sly smile is present on her face.

"Steve took all of it. Absorbed it like nutrients."

A soft sigh leaves your lips as the brunette lets out a loud chuckle. Your eyes can't help but scan her body as she continues on with her chuckling. Soon enough, you can feel a heat rush up to your head making you snap your head in a different direction.

"if you're so different from him, how about we hang out?"

Your eyes open wide. You smile as a happy dog would. "Yeah! No, yeah! I would totally be up to it. I'm like free every day besides cheer practice, but I'm 100% willing to skip for you." You slap a hand against your head and turn away embarrassed. Too obvious. God, you really need to learn how to talk to girls.

"you're weird. I like that "

#stranger things #stranger things netflix #stranger things x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #harrington's sister #lesbian #gay #be who you areeeeee show your prideeeeeeee

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knocktherock · 11 months

Text

Arrogant asshole part 5

A/n: finally. God I’m so sorry this took so long.

Part one part two part three part four

Warnings: sex, oral sex (female receiving), Voyeurism, someone watching someone else having sex

Summary of the series: Joel has been acting like you don’t exist ever since you’ve slept with him a couple of months ago, which pisses you off. But this time you’ll make sure he remembers you

————————————

You got up the next morning in a great mood. The warm rays of the sun streamed through your windows, filling you with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Little did you know that today held unexpected surprises.

You jumped down your porch steps and headed to get some breakfast at the hall. The hall was already filled with people talking and munching on their food.

As you searched for someone to share your breakfast with, your eyes landed on Tommy, who was sitting alone with his thoughts, prompting you to go and keep him company.

„Hello there“ you smiled as you lowered down on the seat across from him.

„Good morning.“ He smiled back „how’d you sleep last night?“ he winked with a filthy grin on his face.

„I slept well, in my own bed and alone.“ you rolled your eyes at his implication earning a huff from him.

The two of you talked about the latest patrols and Tommy mentioned that Joel had taken his gun home with him, which he needed for his nightly patrol.

Even though you couldn’t stand Joel, you knew that Tommy had a tight schedule, so you offered to get it from Joel.

You had never been to Joels house, you had seen it through the windows, the wooden kitchen and the pale walls but that was pretty much it. Sometimes, when he had his lights on in his bedroom at night, you could see his shadow dancing on the light green walls.

You reached his over snowed porch steps, of course he did not care to shovel them free.

You didn't care to knock, you didn't respect this man enough to knock and you were sure he would block your way and not let you in if you did.

Little did you know the unexpected and unsettling sight that awaited you on the other side of the door; otherwise, you would have never reached for the handle.

With the door ajar, the air carried a familiar and intoxicating sound, soft, sweet moans that he had once effortlessly drew from you. At first glance you saw Joels couch facing the door, then what was happening on top of it.

His dark locks in between a strangers thighs, her fingers running through them. He was pushing her hips down with his big hands while a groan escaped his lips against her skin. His tongue seemed to play a blissful game on her pussy, because her face was filled with pleasure, eyes shut tightly. But the creaky door had announced your presence.

Her eyes shot towards you after a second and she tugs him up by his hair „Oh god Joel“ she said but it was clear to him this wasn’t a call of ecstasy.

His head snapped towards you.

Your head snapped away.

You turned quickly on your heel. Without a word, you hastily made your way out the door and onto the porch, taking long strides. However, the snow and ice on the steps had one final humiliation in store for you - you slipped and stumbled.

If your face wasn't already red, it was glowing like a fiery furnace by now.

A toxic cocktail of embarrassment, anger, shock, and an array of negative emotions surged through your veins, spreading its poison to every corner of your being.

Thankfully, your house stood just a few paces from his, offering you refuge from the avalanche of emotions. As you forcefully closed the door, it became an impenetrable fortress, guarding your fragile state from the chaos that awaited beyond.

Inhaling deeply, it felt like the oxygen had been yanked away from your grasp, leaving you disoriented and questioning the reason behind your unusual reaction. If it had been anyone else but Joel you would’ve laughed at the situation. But all you could feel was embarrassed and your heart felt empty, like a barren field, stripped of all the seeds of hope and connection.

You had to sit down for a moment, the gun you were supposed to pick up was far from your mind by now.

Time seemed to slow down as you sat there, minutes elongating into an eternity, your gaze locked on the hallway, half-expecting Joel to walk through the door to talk to you about what had just happened.

But you knew it wouldn’t happen, he had never really talked to you unless it was while he was pressed against your body, his intention to get your pussy dripping for him.

You needed to get him out of your head, he was like a magnet, irresistibly attracting and monopolizing every single one of your thoughts.

Consumed by a desire for revenge, you longed for him to experience the same surge of jealousy coursing through his veins that was currently overwhelming you.

Did he Actually just see you as a piece of meat? Why did you ever think that he might like you? You had hoped he was playing a game of hard to get, but it seemed that he was actually disinterested in you.

Was your mind just playing tricks on you or had you seen him smirk while he spotted you in the doorway?

How did this man have you in such a chokehold. It’s not like you ever talked. You didn't know his favorite color, If a cold man like him even had one, you didn't know his middle name, you didn’t know what his life was like before this. You knew nothing about this man but you were crushing so hard on him anyway. Not that you’d ever admit this crush to him or even yourself.

You wanted him around you, you subconsciously looked for him in the streets and the cafeteria.

You knew he could be nice, he was to Ellie. They had a connection that was obvious to everyone, and you envied it. You were jealous of a goddamn fourteen year old.

Longing for a bond with him, you desired his genuine concern, his laughter resonating with your jokes, and his unwavering support to hold you close during times of vulnerability.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the street lights outside flickered on. Night was settling into Jackson and today it felt even darker than usual.

Startled by a knock on your door, your foggy thoughts cleared momentarily as you made your way to the hallway, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension swirling within, wondering if it was Joel or someone else.

It wasn’t Joel. Of course.

You were met with James when the door opened.

„did you keep my jacket last night?“ he smiled at you warmly.

„No I gave it back to you at the door.“ You couldn’t bring yourself to a genuine smile, but you tried to.

And then an idea sparked in your mind as you looked at the man in front of you. You knew he liked you and you wouldn’t feel bad to use that to your benefit.

„do you wanna come inside?“ You asked him sweetly, your voice now a few pitches higher than seconds ago.

Giving a nod, he entered the room, his boots shedding snow as he kicked them off, creating a small flurry on the floor.

A visible startle flickered across his face as you gently took his hand, guiding him into your living room. His surprise grew when you pressed your lips against his, leaving him both stunned and pleasantly shocked.

His hands weren't sure where to touch you, like hesitant dancers seeking the perfect rhythm. You took lead, touching his jaw lightly as you deepened the kiss. You pulled him on top while you lowered yourself onto the couch.

You knew that the couch was in perfect sight of Joels bedroom window and you knew his schedule. He would be up there in a few minutes, unless he was still fucking that girl downstairs.

James kissed your neck but it didn't have much of an effect on you. You were missing Joels stubble rubbing into your skin, a slightly burning sensation that turned you on so much. His touch was too soft, too unsure.

As his hands kept roaming over your body, the light in Joels bedroom turned on. You could see his familiar figure walking around the room from the corner of your eye.

You tried to focus on the man on top of you, you tried to respond to his touch, but when you saw Joel freeze right in front of his window, you knew it was time to start the show.

Images of earlier flooded your memory, Joels head between her thighs, his hands placed exactly where they used to touch you, her moans just as sweet as yours, it made you furious. You kissed James hard, tongues dancing together, your fingers entwined in his hair, mirroring the grip the stranger had on Joel's earlier.

You couldn’t deny the wetness between your thighs but you were very sure it wasn’t caused by the man above you. The thought of Joel watching this, another man touching you, making you squirm beneath his touch, was what got you soaked.

You reached between the mans legs and slowly started to rub his clothed dick. It made him breath in sharply.

You checked if Joel had moved, but his body remained frozen in place like a statue. His shadow loomed in the window above, devoid of any discernible features.

You the hoped to provoke him, to stir his emotions. You yearned for the spectacle in front of him to ignite jealousy within him, causing him to question the depth of your "relationship."

James unzipped your jeans and slowly pushed his hand inside, as he played with your pussy, you acted like it was the best sensation you had ever felt. You arched your back, your lips forming a silent o as he started kissing your neck again.

You decided to remove his shirt, revealing a chiseled, toned physique that gleamed in the light. If this hadn’t been a revenge plot, you might’ve taken more time to explore his body.

Suddenly, he retracted his hands from your jeans, flipped you onto your stomach and pushed his still clothed crotch into your ass. This had been the first move you actually enjoyed, it was so similar to Joel handling you around the way you liked it.

He groaned, clearly liking the whole thing despite your minimal effort.

You heard his belt buckle behind you, a sound you loved to hear from Joel and without a single warning, he shoved himself inside of you.

He took your yelp of surprise as a sound of pleasure, pulled out all the way just to push into you again. You pressed your cheek into the cushion of your couch and glanced up at Joel.

But the sight above made you shiver, you couldn’t tell if Joel right hand was behind his back or… in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t tell due to the lighting and him only being a shadow. The dark lines etching his arms seemed to dissolve into the black darkness that cloaked his torso.

But for some reason you hoped it was deep in his pants. stroking himself to the sight of you being fucked into the couch, wishing it was him pumping into you.

You decided to close your eyes and imagine Joels thick thighs slapping into yours, his calloused hands running along your curves, his thick cock stretching you out. Your fantasy made you moan and perhaps even enjoy what was going on. You needed Joel, you wanted to smell his cologne and feel his fingers dig into your sides.

Joels groans were rougher than the ones touching your ears from behind you. You imagined him making those angelic noises up in that window right now, watching your beautiful figure rock against the couch.

„god you’re so hot.“ James grunted out behind you and for a second you could’ve sworn to have heard that in Joels gruff voice.

You tried to cum, you really did. But he was done way to quick to make it happen.

After some mediocre thrusts, grunts, slight slaps to your ass, his pumps became inconsistent until he moaned a sweet tone into your ear, came inside you and fell onto your back like a sloppy fish stranded on shore.

He kissed below your ear and whispered: „Did you come?“

you could hear the smile in his voice, he had really enjoyed this for some reason.

Joel would’ve never needed to ask such question. He would never even think about it, he was well aware of the way you’d clench around him when you came, how you scratched his back or fisted his flannel.

„Yeah, yeah“ the poisoned lie slipped off your tongue before you could think about it.

„Good“ he said as he lifted himself off your body and sat up, pulling his pants back up his legs.

„Do you want me to stay?“ he asked but you weren’t paying attention, you rolled onto your back and glanced back up to Joels window, but his figure had vanished, possibly to prevent himself from coming across as a creepy observer to your date.

„Y/n?“ James asked after you hadn’t answered.

„Um no thats not my kind of thing, sorry.“ you lied again. If Joel had asked you that you would’ve died from excitement, melted into the couch below you.

James simply nodded and slipped out your front door. You pulled up your own pants, your shirt had never left your body.

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