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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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She’s A Gun

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I came here from Boston."

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

"Long story."

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

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

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

"I work patrols, but good guess."

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

"Joel or Tommy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione

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

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kairiscorner · 10 months

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is this the start of a new series?

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miggy and his feelings for you (after an argument).

a/n: ok so this is kind of an extension of the "miggy's sole friend" fic, but you can read this as-is.

summary: you had an argument with miguel, and this time, you did something unexpected of you: you walked out on him. instead of getting mad at you, he got scared. he knew you all his life and could never remember a time when he didn't know you. he wants to apologize and admit to you once and for all how he feels about you, what you make him feel now that you've left him for the time being, and how he's... oh, is he really saying it? how sorry he is about his shitty attitude towards you.

word count: 2,440 (wowza)

it was certainly an experience being miguel o'hara's... only friend ever since, well, forever. you had other friends of your own, but the one who you knew the best and who knew you best was none other than miguel. you two knew each other pretty well, like the back of each other's hands. you two knew everything there was to know about the other; be it a favorite color, their 7th birthday, that time they broke their right arm in two places, the name of the second pet they owned, where your beauty marks were most prominent, and just about every other little detail there was to remark about each other.

you lauded yourself as an observant person, as someone who could look at something and see a thousand unnoticed details that a lot of other people never looked twice at, or even caught at first glance. it was due to this aptitude of yours to be able to know where to look and what to for that you became friends with miguel, even when he was a difficult little brat when you first met him.

his snarkiness and sarcasm was palpable and irritating, he mouthed off anyone he pleased, which was not for pleasure; he hated having to point out everyone else's incompetencies--but rather out of an insecurity of himself, a sort of allusion to how he wanted people to understand him, but how he struggles with understanding himself in the first place. he did it to feel safe, and you could see right through him when a lot of other people were turning away from the poor boy.

little did you know that your decision to befriend him would be the decision that saved miguel from himself. you saved him from his loneliness, you became the sole person in his life to make the first move and stick with him, no matter how difficult he became towards you or how aggressive he was at times.

of course, you two never saw eye-to-eye all the time; but you two genuinely got along a lot. you two would complain to each other, compliment each other, taunt and make banter with each other, you two were each other's companion, never complete without the other. but you two would also have disagreements, and when you had disagreements, miguel would be convinced he was right. at least, he used to think he was always right.

but one time, you storm out and got out of his face after an argument. he thought to himself he did nothing wrong, you were wrong. you were always the one thinking you were right, that you knew everything there was to know about a person, that you could do no wrong, that... you were the only person in his life that really understood him.

...this feeling is shit.

he had never felt that feeling before, of being walked out on, being left alone for being difficult and demanding. he knew the world couldn't give him everything, but he just wished, this once, that he could restrain himself and quell his ego for once so you wouldn't get sick of him.

oh, please, please don't be sick of him. he was a grown adult, he could take rejection in the face by anyone but you. he was frightened of what would happen if you one day stopped seeing him, stopped talking to him, or worse, managed to forget he even existed.

the gnawing feeling of despondency and probing the thought of you leaving him alone when you were the only, only person who understood him. lyla didn't count, she was made by him; the people of the spider society didn't count either, they were either scared shitless of him or understood his need for order and justice--not the person who believed in those ideals.

you did save him from his loneliness, but that didn't mean he was doing fine without you. if miguel could put a label on the feelings you gave him when he was without you, it'd be, "an utter, soul-crushing weight on my chest that grows the longer you're gone". and if he was without you because of his own actions, it'd be, "an immense regret of having ever done that to you, and if i could go back in time to punch myself to stop me from doing it, i would. in a heartbeat, i would".

miguel couldn't focus right throughout the day, every time he would try to listen to a report or look through the multiverse's canon events and occurences, his mind would always shift his attention the other way, to that nagging, unrelenting voice in his head that keeps screaming at him, "i need to talk to them. i need them back here, i'm... scared. i'm scared without them."

miguel had a hubris, and as often as he denied it, it always showed ceaselessly; but he attempted to put it aside for a minute and think of what to say to get you to stay with him for a few seconds longer, see you again even if you didn't want to see him; he just really wanted you right then and there with him, and he was so sorry he let himself get to you with his stupid, stupid pride.

"lyla," he called for the ai assistant. "now before you tell me to call them up so you can keep screaming, count me out. as a virtual assistant, i have rights." she said as she pulled up a monitor. miguel shook his head. "no, i'm not gonna yell anymore, no screaming, i just... wanna talk to them, in a civil manner." he emphasized the latter parts, with lyla slowly nodding in a sarcastic manner.

"well, have you ever thought that maybe they don't want to hear from you right now?" she asked miguel, looking at him quizzically. he sighed. "i've thought about it. and i'm done letting my thoughts dictate what i do." he said as lyla called you, miguel's thoughts racing in his mind, contesting against one another and contradicting each other. all the apologies he wants to tell you because he never told you before, all the genuine compliments he wants to tell you because he doesn't think you've heard enough of them in your life, let alone from him--all the thanks he has for you saving him the day you approached him and stood your ground in your desire to befriend him...

he wants you to know more than the "everything" you swore to have known about him, from the good and the bad, from the beautiful to the ugly; this is the one thing you and your astuteness never caught.

"what? i'm--" you began as you appeared on the other side of the screen, visibly irritated at miguel's impromptu call, but miguel cut you off.

"i'm in love with you." he blurted out without hesitation. the minute he saw you, the minute his breath was hitched in his throat as he caught sight of the most perfect person in the world, the one who toughed out every single time he was being a hard-headed bastard... he had to tell you how he felt. or at least, the only words that have so much meaning, yet so many meanings no matter how often it is uttered or how it is said.

"i'm... in love with you." he repeated, in a slower voice, a voice that wanted to take you gently by the hand and lead you through each syllable and pause as if it were like teaching one how to walk after being debilitated and bed-ridden. he ran a hand through his hair and placed his other hand on his waist as you remained silent, waiting to hear if he was roped into some prank by the knuckleheaded fools in the spider society somehow, if this was his "canon event" or whatever else he spouted out as a mandate through his authority as the leader of this "elite force of heroes".

you soon broke the silence when he didn't say anything with a cough.

he stared up at you, your face presented on the monitors in an larger ratio. he opened his mouth to speak, but he took a few seconds to collect his thoughts. "i... realized i've been selfish, i've been a bossy, arrogant, self-absorbed... pendejo." he finished with a deep breath in as he sighed. he knew that he was a bastard to you, has been and... probably will always be, even if he doesn't want to.

he wants to change, but he's painfully aware that his admission to all the things he's been called over the years didn't only hurt his pride, it hurt you because you knew he hardly changed from before. "okay." you said as you angled the camera of your phone better to get a good look at him. "so what?" you asked, trying to sound angry after he let his pride down just to see how true this change in attitude really was.

he scratched the back of his neck and peered up at you as his head was hung. "so i, uh... i wanted to admit it. estoy enamorado de ti. i'm... dammit." he said softly as he lost what he was going to say, just letting loose that spanish phrase he's wanted to tell you ever since you won him over with your beautiful smile, that ceaselessly sweet charisma of yours, and that patience and strength you had when it came to bearing with him and everything he puts you through.

"...i know, i don't deserve you. you don't deserve this overly dependent manchild you probably think of--" he continued, but you cut him off with a sarcastic chuckle. "oh it's not just probably, you are a manchild." you corrected, to which he nodded along. "right, right, i suppose you're..." he trailed off, not wanting to relent at that appraisal of his true, uninhibited nature. "...you're right." he finally admitted.

"but the matter of fact is that i am completely in love with you and want nothing more than for you to know i am so, so sorry for my idiocy, my inadequacy, my... every kind of 'cy i've lacked and... should be making up to you in ways that aren't just limited to calling you when you're clearly busy with work." he said in a quieted voice as he went on.

"i'm nothing without you, and i know i come off as dramatic, needy, or just straight up pathetic as shit, but it's the truth. i need you like i need air, you understand me when i can't even understand myself. i need you, so much, and i'd do anything to just keep you remembering me, even just one last time before you decide to cut me off from your life fore-- why are you laughing?" he asked as he heard a few chuckles escape your pursed lips as the corners of your mouth quivered, trying to conceal your laugh, to stifle it so he doesn't notice, but he does.

"you're just so extra, you know that?" you point out with a fit of giggles as miguel sighs, a small smile forming on his face. "well what can i say? it's the truth, and nothing but the truth. you deserve so much more, and i understand if you don't want me, too, but i..." he cuts himself off again as he hears the doors to his office open, looking at your video feed and noting the background looked exactly like the layout of his office. from the dimness of the light to the small, intricate carvings on the walls--it was an exact replica of his office. soon, he connected the dots together, and realized a little too late you were in the room, smiling slyly to yourself the whole time as he looked from the monitors to your face that was now close to his.

"and i can be a little extra with my entrance, too." you quipped as you leaned over and gave him a hug. "even if you're a hardass pendejo like you say you are... i'll never forget you. and i won't leave you, not like that. not when i'm..." you drifted off as you looked up at him, holding him tighter as his breath hitched in his throat, admiring how small you appeared below him, how warm and loving your touch was, how... delicately you held him, as if you didn't plan on hurting him despite how you had every right to get angry with him for being so conceited and prideful.

"...not when i'm in love with you, too." you admitted as you buried your face in his chest, leaving in your wake a blushing, heated mess of a man as you nuzzled yourself further into him. "i just wanted to hear you admit it, first." you said with a chuckle as he slowly carded your hair in his hands, wondering to himself if this moment was real, was supposed to happen, was going to happen all along? all the events that led to this very euphoric, heavenly moment; and he wouldn't waste a second.

he leaned over to you, and as you pulled away from his chest, he brushed his nose over yours in an attempt to seize your soft, plush lips which he yearned for too damn long. he kissed you, and you found yourself kissing him back. he savored your taste, the feeling of your lips on his was too perfect, too right; he could do this for the rest of his life if you were up for it, kissing you until you knew just how much he loved you--which not even he could tell you, either, not with you constantly stealing his heart and attention all the time.

"i'll work on not being so unbearable all the time... i just want to, to hold you like this," he said as he reciprocated your touch and wrapped his arms around your waist gently, pulling you closer to him as he felt your racing heartbeat, and you felt his own in yours.

your hearts beating together in perfect harmony, as if each of your hearts responded to the other. "if it means i can keep you for eternity, i'd stop being a prideful bastard and admit i'm wrong, admit you're the greatest, that you're amazing, you're... perfect." he finished as he kissed your forehead, apologizing still for all that he did, with you giggling and telling him it's okay, but he has a whole lot to do to make up for it.

luckily for you... he's always up for a challenge.

a/n: man i fr thought i had writer's block while making this, it was a bluff, i just got tired and lazy LMAO but hoping y'all enjoyed :> TYSM TO @jrrantss FOR THE HELP IN THE SPANISH TRANSLATION, it's so fucking romantic, ako'y kinikilig super tyyy <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @jrrantss @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #atsv imagines #atsv

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mrswint3rs · 4 months

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆ Much Needed Company ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairings- Sugar Daddy! Leon x Fem! Reader

a/n- wrote this with Vendetta Leon in mind ! (sorry i got lazy but maybe i’ll do something more with this eventually?)

NSFW WARNING :

contains- Depressed Leon, brief mentions of alcohol, mild daddy kink, use of pet names, sending nude images and videos, phone sex, guided masturbation?, reader is kind of innocent and inexperienced 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Leon put most of his money into buying booze. It seemed to be the only thing that could keep his mind off of the shitty life he’s had so far.

Until he met you.

It happened by chance online. You put up some post in dire need of financial assistance. Leon saw your pleas as fate. It was the perfect opportunity to do good with what he had. So he directly messaged you as soon as he saw it.

Everything started off rather innocently. Leon payed you weekly, free of charge. In a way it made him feel like he was saving you, something he’s always struggled with doing before.

A lot of the time that was all he could think about. The loss of many from his job weighed heavily on his mind. He was no hero, no matter how hard he tried to front.

You gave him a chance at redeeming himself.

The saying 'money can't buy happiness' had been proven to be a complete fallacy as he actually got to know you. He didn’t think people as pure as you even existed anymore.

He found himself growing attached to you the more you chatted. The world had been unfair to the both of you. You were so sweet regardless. Meanwhile, he was just moping around, constantly angry and self-pitying.

Just talking with you made those negative feelings fall away. You became the main focus of his attention, making his days go by much easier. It wasn’t a burden to open his eyes in the morning anymore. Not when he had your sweet good morning texts to look forward to.

Things were supposed to be casual between the two of you, but you quickly became his whole world. He could hardly sleep at night without calling you over the phone. He loved just listening to you talk about how your day went.

»--•--«

You couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of this man. You were grateful, no doubt, but he was paying you for nothing. You didn’t have to do anything, just talk with him for a bit and he’d drop a whole 2 months worth of rent in your bank account without an issue.

Leon never asked anything of you. You wondered if he ever would. It’s been 3 months of just talking and he never once made things weird.

That in itself made you want to give him something.

He was so generous, actually listened when you spoke. Not to mention, he was incredibly handsome. But you figured he probably had a girlfriend, looking the way he did. That would explain why he never made a move or asked you for things like most men. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way.

The thought worried you until you grew the confidence to ask him straight up.

You’re surprised to hear he’s been single for as long as he can remember. A guy like him didn’t have a special someone?

But really, you were relieved to know he was available. Not just for his money. Leon was the whole package it seemed. Though, you’ve never met in person, he was everything you could ever need.

So, you decide to do something out of the ordinary.

You know it’s probably not equivalent to the thousands of dollars he’s gifted you over the months, but you wanted to give something in return.

After many attempts of trying to get the right angles and lighting, you finally get a decent shot.

Your thumb hovers over the send button for a while. You wonder if it’ll upset him or make things awkward if he’s not interested. Or if you should have asked before hitting send.

You anxiously sit in bed, waiting for his response and refuse to look at your phone in the meantime. You’re overthinking the whole thing, fearing he might block you or something. He doesn’t usually take this long to respond and isn’t normally busy at this time of night.

You swear you’re about to have a heart attack when your phone finally chirps.

You rush to check it, almost embarrassingly fast and you’re greeted with a video from Leon. With sound.

His hand pumps over his length at a slow pace as the other holds his phone and records. He was almost teasing with the way he’d tap his fingers over the tip, drawing a string of his leaking precum. His breath was heavy, soft groans sounding from his lips.

He was taking his time, corkscrewing with his palm over and over making a wet, squishy sound with the lube he was using.

He didn’t say anything, but you understood it was your turn to send one back.

You set up your phone between your legs, parting them to reveal your dripping cunt. In return, you slowly, teasingly rub over your clit and folds, smearing your juices.

You quietly moan out as you slip your fingers inside, curving them up to feel for that sensitive spot. You scissor your digits in and out, attempting to match the length of time his video was before pausing to send it. Only you’re not feeling confident enough to keep the sound on just yet.

“Let’s call.” he replies this time, shortly after you sent it.

He doesn’t give you much time to think before your phone starts ringing and his contact info displays full screen.

Feeling pressured, you answer.

Leon’s camera is already on, only showing his gruff face for now. You’re only half showing yours. Even though you just sent the man 90% of your body through text, you’re feeling nervous.

“Don’t be shy princess,” Leon speaks up, his voice low yet soft. “Let me see your pretty face, hm?” He wore a cheeky grin, just waiting patiently.

You give in to him and show yourself, not wanting to make things awkward. “Hey..sorry.”

“Good girl. There’s no need to be so nervous with me.”

Unsure of how to reply, you just sit there. You had never done anything like this and you didn’t even know how to initiate it. He was the one who wanted to transfer it over to a call, so you let him take the lead.

Except he wasn’t.

You sat in a deafening silence for a while, just sort of looking at each other through the screen before he finally said something again. “If you wanna see it you gotta ask me, baby.”

As you’re put on the spot you once again go silent. You didn’t know how to word it. Over text was one thing, but vocally saying such things was another story.

“Aw, c’mon,” Leon teases. “You can do it. Tell me what you want and you’ll get it.”

From the way his camera was slightly shaking, and the way he was breathing you could tell he was already going at it. He was just waiting for you to warm up to him.

Leon adored your innocent aura and was willing to be patient with you. He loved the way you depended on him, but he also wanted you to be able to let loose on your own. He didn’t want you to feel pressured or like you had to give him anything. He would still reward you regardless.

“Can I see it?” you manage to mutter out.

But Leon decides to tease you further by playing dumb.

“See what, baby?”

That grin of his made your stomach do flips. You hated but loved the way he pushed you to do things.

“Can I see your…cock,” you stutter out

Immediately he lowers his phone, revealing the entirety of his naked body. His dick was firmly gripped in his hand, fully hardened still. “Atta’ girl. So proud of you.”

He starts to stroke with his hand again, slowly going over the whole length and back up again.

You follow him, putting the phone back between your legs quickly. Just the sight of him made you a sopping wet mess, there was no hiding that.

Leons movements grow faster when you reveal yourself.

“Touch yourself…” he groans, “touch yourself for daddy.”

The use of the name makes you tingle a bit, and you oblige. You sink your fingers into your tight opening once more, slowly pumping in and out for him.

Your weak whimpers rile him even further. His own voice heightens in volume as he rapidly fucks into his hand. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby. Spread a little further for me.”

Your free hand comes down to part your lips as he asked. You pry yourself open for his hungry eyes.

“Good girl, now rub your clit. Want you to cum.”

You do as told. Your two middle fingers stuff your cunt while your other hand starts to rub at your clit. Leon let’s out needy groans. He desperately chases his high, stroking the head of his cock trying to finish. “Can you be a dirty girl for daddy? Be a little louder.”

Reluctantly, you stop holding back. Watching as his hand races, you try to match pace, imagining your fingers as his cock.

His voice is enough to make you dizzy.

You feel your walls start to pulse, that tightening in your core. You never knew simple masturbation could feel so good.

Leon finishes before you do, shooting cum all over his taut abs. It uncontrollably spills into his hand as he keeps stroking.

You finish soon after at the sound of his moaning babbles. Your back arches into your hand as it hits, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Fuck…you’re shaking.” Leon chuckles a bit at this, coming down from his climax. His stroking comes to a halt as his cock becomes far too sensitive to keep touching.

“Maybe next time I’ll have my vacation where you are. That way I can calm you down after I ruin you.”

With a content sigh, he lets go, letting his softening length lay across his lower stomach. He brings his phone back up to his flushed face and you follow suit.

He goes on pause, seemingly doing something else on his phone.

You soon after get a notification. $850 transferred.

“For lingerie next time. We should do this more often,” he states, “or you could catch a flight down here?”

mlist

#leon kennedy x reader smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #re #reaident evil #resident evil vendetta leon #fem reader #smut #resident evil #fanfiction #rushed

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santaasi · 1 month

Text

DANCE WITH ME

pairing: jj maybank x dancer!fem!reader

summary: jj maybank loves the sea, the sandy beach of north carolina and the warm sun. new york is the exact opposite of all this. and he hates it. but she... she changes everything.

warnings: new york au, fluff, slight angst (as usual), but happy ending, miscommunication trope, a little use of y/n, some language, english is not my first language

word count: 5.9k

a/n: first of all, thank u all for supporting my first two works here. I rly couldn’t have expected so much love and support from all of u, but i appreciate it. secondly, I can't write summaries, so i think it sounds kinda shitty. thirdly, it was supposed to be a small blurb, but I was carried away and I couldn't stop. and fourthly, I listened to Slaves - Body on Fire and Katy Perry - Wide Awake while writing this oneshot, so I advise everyone to do the same.

The huge theater hall of the New York School of the Fine Arts was getting more crowded and noisier by the second. People dressed in ridiculously posh suits, as if they had come to a reception at Buckingham Palace, took their seats and from time to time looked askance at the two guys sitting in one of the front rows.

In particular, all those present, as it seemed to JJ himself, looked at him with special disapproval interest. Compared to this bunch of rich bastards who had nothing to do on Thursday night except watch their ‘creatively gifted’ children jumping around the stage in tutus, he looked like a black sheep in his dark jeans, a white T-shirt with unwashed ketchup stains and a cap on. He looked like a total looser, who had missed his shift at a godforsaken restaurant in the Bronx only to watch his best friend’s new girlfriend performance, while everyone around him was showing off their wealth and position. Showing JJ his place.

JJ Maybank had no place in this money-rotten world. And he knew it perfectly well.

And why was he sitting here then?

Just as simple as it is. Because of John Booker Routledge. JJ Maybank adored his best friend. No, not best friend. JJ Maybank adored his brother, John B., who saved him from an abusive and alcoholic father, allowing him to move into his small flat in the Bronx and gave him a chance to make a fresh start.

John B. Routledge was always there for JJ. They spent all the happy and sad moments together, supporting and helping each other. And Maybank, in gratitude for everything, was ready to do anything for John B. Absolutely anything.

That's why he was now sitting in a maroon-upholstered theater chair, waiting for the start of a ballet performance in which John B's new girlfriend, Sarah, had the main role, and felt all these rich jerks staring at him. And it annoyed him.

He was annoyed by all these vain idiots and how they always looked down on guys like John and J, who had to literally fight for their lives in this huge city, while those rich bastards were drinking prosecco on the veranda of their Soho estate.

He was annoyed by the kids of these jerks who studied at these luxurious art schools, a semester in which cost so much that JJ could live happily on this money for five years or even more.

He was annoyed by whole this situation, which literally screamed: “Look at us! We have a lot of money that we spend on stupid school performances, so that our kids would think they're talented.”

JJ Maybank was not envious. It was just that he, a man who had worked his whole life in order not to starve, did not perceive all this creative entertainments as something serious at all. He didn't go to theaters, operas, ballets and the like. For him, it was stupid shows to launder money from these rich peeps. And JJ wouldn't be sitting in this chair waiting for the play to start if it wasn't for John B. John B., who needed his support in this fashionable enemy lair.

Exhaling irritably, catching another look of disgust from some elderly lady in furs, J took off his cap and ran fingers through his blond hair, turning to John B., who was looking at the curtains and tapping his feet on the floor.

“I'm going to take a leak and smoke, okay, John?" JJ patted him on the shoulder before getting up from his seat and heading out of the hall. John just nodded without taking his eyes off the stage.

This guy was obsessed with Sarah. And it's not that JJ didn't understand what his best mate found in a pretty blonde girl, it's just... it's just that Maybank never thought that John B would be all lovey-dovey with some chick that was completely out of his league. Although Routledge always had freer views in this rich/poor hierarchy, while JJ was sure that all the kids born with a golden spoon in their mouths were stuck up bitches not worth his attention.

Of course, Sarah Cameron proved the opposite. As they would say in North Carolina, she was kook on the outside, but a true pogue in her heart. But, as Maybank believed, this was a one-in-a-million exception.

JJ was walking along a bright corridor, trying to find the exit, when he caught a barely audible melodie. The guy followed the sound, looking through the glass in the slightly ajar door leading to a bright, spacious ballroom with large panoramic windows and ballet bars. In the middle of the sunset-drenched hall stood a young girl, who sometimes came with Sarah to hang out with John and JJ, but he never paid enough attention to her.

More precisely, she was too out of reach for a guy like JJ, to pay her attention that he wanted to. She was kind, sincere, her smile could light up, it seemed, the whole world. She always laughed at his jokes, even the dumbest ones. The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made JJ burn as if he were being immersed in a flaming cauldron of hell.

She was incredibly smart, funny and breathtakingly beautiful. Just the sight of her in a small summer dress made everything in front of his eyes fade, leaving only her. She was too perfect in his eyes, like an angel descending from heaven to torment him, JJ Maybank, showing him what he could never have. Making him hate his position and his life. Making him envious of these dumb rich assholes. Because she was too good for a bad guy like JJ Maybank.

And now, looking at her fragile frame, watching the elegant swings of her hands, perfectly honed movements and the flight of her hair from each new spin, JJ's heart in the chest was treacherously squeezed with delight. His breathing, as well as time, stopped, and it seemed to the guy as if the world had stopped too, leaving only her in his field of vision. Neat facial features, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, gaze concentrated on the mirror, but as if looking into another dimension. She looked beautiful, flawless... No, she looked divine.

JJ didn't know how long he had been standing in the hallway looking at Sarah Cameron's friend. But as soon as the music ended, and she ran her hand over her hot face, pushing back the hair stuck to her skin. As soon as she raised a bottle of water to her lips taking a couple of sips. And as soon as her gaze fell on the guy on the other side of the door. Maybank immediately came out of his entranced state, feeling caught and ashamed.

Turning around on his heels, JJ walked swiftly to the exit, still feeling his heart beating in his chest at breakneck speed, and her gentle image rises before his eyes. A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin. And again the hand is in the air. Jump… Spin… The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand…

The cold February wind hit him in the face and without even thinking, the guy lit a cigarette, looking into the void.

He hated New York and the cold of the city. He missed North Carolina. Kildare with its warm sun and sandy beaches. The smell of the sea, the sound of waves and surfing…

Why is he even thinking about the Outer Banks now, three years after he left without even once looking back…?

JJ Maybank did not return to that room full of these loaded bastards, steeped in luxury and affectation. Instead, he lowered his head and got to their shared apartment on the outskirts of the Bronx, where the rats and the crazy granny neighbor who was always bothering him for nothing were waiting for him.

But for the first time in three years, JJ Maybank didn't care about any of this. He was still standing in that hallway. He looked through the glass at the sunlit room.

A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin.

And again. Her hand is in the air... Jump… Spin…

The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand… And her light smile, like the warm sun of Kildare…

JJ Maybank fell in love.

If someone had told him six months ago that his heart would beat a thousand beats per minute just by looking at her, or that when talking to her, he would not be able to find more than one suitable word and would only stand and watch her giggle softly at his reaction... He would have laughed in the man's face. Because JJ Maybank doesn't fall in love. He spends one night with a girl and forgets about her in the morning. He takes napkins with numbers he will never call and throws them in the nearest trash can.

JJ Maybank is not made for relationships. He does not get attached and cannot love. But for some reason, he feels differently with her.

JJ Maybank fell in love.

And if six months ago he would have been told that he would work two shifts to buy himself a white dress shirt and a pair of decent trousers just to sit in a maroon velvet armchair among rich pompous bastards and watch her dance on stage... Watch how she transforms in her dance, becoming even more beautiful... Watch her every move, every curve of her body and the soft rise of her hands just to catch the smallest changes on her flawless face…

And then, meet her in the hall with a bouquet of her favorite tulips in his hands, for which he borrowed money from John B., just to see her smile like Kildare's sun and hear her laugh that reminds him of waves crashing on the shore.

JJ Maybank fell head over heels in love with her.

And it was obvious to everyone as a clear day.

John B. saw his friend's pupils turn into two big throbbing hearts when he saw her. John B. saw how JJ, who had always been confident around the girls, turned into a small helpless puppy who could not utter a single word as soon as she appeared next to him. John B. noticed how his best friend's life changed dramatically with the arrival of her in JJ's life.

JJ Maybank's life, which previously consisted only of home, work and a couple of weekend parties, now consisted only of work and meetings with her after which he went back to work.

Sarah wasn't blind to the changes in JJ's behavior either. The first time she saw him on the steps of the NYAFA, she thought that something had happened to John B., but when she realized that Maybank was not waiting for her, but for her friend, everything immediately fell into place. JJ's frequent appearance at performances at the academy, even when John B. did not go to them, the flowers that changed every three days in their shared with Y/N house, his questions about her best friend's preferences and many other things finally made sense.

Therefore, at her birthday party, Sarah decided to be a wingman and do everything possible to connect loving hearts. After all, Cameron did not escape the reactions from Y/N, who too often began to ask questions about JJ, who began to devote more time to her appearance and blushed every time Sarah mentioned only the name of the blonde.

Now JJ was sitting at a table in the Cameron's house backyard in Soho, which was decorated with sparkling lights in honor of the birthday girl, and stirring a glass of brandy in his hand. His gaze was once again focused only on her, dancing with Sarah on an improvised dance floor to some Latin music. The skirt of her white dress was like sea foam rising and falling with her every movement, and her ringing laughter made his heart skip a beat. During the four months of his addiction to her, it became a habitual body reaction for him.

JJ chuckled as he drained the rest of the brandy before lifting his head and meeting her glittering, emerald-like eyes. Her cheeks were red and her lips stretched into a wide smile. The guy saw how her chest quickly fell and rose after active dancing. The girl tilted her head slightly, bringing a red cup with drink to her lips before sitting down next to Maybank.

“Are you enjoying the party, Jay?" the girl teased. Her velvety voice carried like an electric current through his body before Maybank turned his head in her direction.

“Rather enjoying the view,” JJ grinned, winking at her, making the poor girl blush. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

“I'm serious, by the way. You look tired,” the girl murmured and a line appeared between her brows. “And lately, I- I rarely see you.”

JJ's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she was worried about him and a corners of his mouth lifted. He sat closure to her, putting his hand on the back of her chair, looking straight into her doe-eyes. The girl felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs by the very sight of that self-confident grin and the look into those deep blue eyes. J's hand softly touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The girl sucked in a loud breath and involuntarily leaned into his touch.

“You shouldn't bother that pretty little head of yours with worries about me, princess,” the guy whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“And what if I want to take care of you...” the girl said in a barely audible voice, swallowing a lump in her throat.

She could feel her heart about to burst out when JJ slightly closed the distance between them. His lips were unbearably close to hers and she felt his hot breath burning her skin, and his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. She had never wanted to kiss someone so much in her life.

For the past four months, all she could think about was the guy who came to her every performance when even her parents weren't there. The guy who meets her every night from rehearsals and asks her about her day. The guy who gives her his hoodie when she gets cold. The guy who brings her a bouquet of her favorite tulips every three days and leaves cute notes inside that she keeps in a shoe box under the bed.

Before JJ Maybank, all her thoughts were occupied only with dancing, which she lived and breathed, rehearsals, preparations for concerts and dreams of Broadway.

Now everything that surrounded her: a fresh bouquet of tulips in the kitchen, a blue hoodie with the smell of the sea in her closet, notes in a box under her bed and even the music she danced to - reminds her of him. She thinks about JJ when she wakes up and when she fall asleep. When she's dancing, when she's choosing music for a new performance, when she's walking, when she's reading, when she's resting. She thinks about JJ Maybank, about his light soft disheveled hair, about his blue eyes in which she could drown, about the smell of the salty sea that seemed to soak into his skin, constantly.

And now that he was so close to her, when he touched her face and looked at her with such tenderness, all she wanted to do was pull him closer and kiss him. But instead she swallowed, barely breaking away from him as Sarah's voice shattered their little vacuum world. Maybank cursed softly, running his hand through his hair before looking back at the girl who had already got up from her seat, preparing to head towards Sarah.

“Will you dance with me when I'm done with her?" A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she turned around halfway, looking hopefully at the guy.

JJ was taken aback. He wanted to agree. He wanted to say that he would be happy to dance with her, but... but he couldn't dance. And he was ashamed to admit it to someone for whom dancing was hers whole life. And he didn't want their first dance to be a complete failure just because he was a fool who couldn't move his bear paws and didn't know where to put his hands and how to behave properly and…

“Mhm. I'm already leaving. I have a night shift, so… Maybe another time?” the guy said distantly and shrugged, getting up from his chair.

Meeting her gaze, which literally screamed disappointment and that his answer hurt her, J immediately regretted his words and wanted to return them, but it was too late. The girl faked a smile and nodded.

“Then... maybe... another time? See ya, Jay,” she said finally and disappeared into the crowd, trying to suppress the tears that are starting to fill her eyes.

"Yeah… next time," the guy echoed, watching her move further away from him.

JJ Maybank was head over heels in love.

And even though he wasn't a genius before, he was a complete fool now.

Three weeks later, her dreams and her heart were broken. Three weeks after Sarah's birthday, she realized that all of JJ's feelings for her were just her own delusions.

At first, they just started seeing each other less often. He no longer met her after rehearsals, as he took extra shifts at work, but still sent her flowers every three days. He messaged her every day asking how her day was and how she was feeling, told her funny stories from work on their evenings phone calls and everything seemed fine. But after two weeks, all their communication came to naught. She offered to meet a couple of times, but JJ refused, saying that he had a job and as soon as his co-worker will recover from his unexpected illness, they would definitely meet.

And she believed him. And waited.

Until one day she saw JJ Maybank with a cup of coffee in his hand, strolling down Lexington Avenue smiling at a dark-haired girl, so beautiful as if she had stepped off the cover of vogue magazine when, according to him, he was supposed to be at work.

And at that moment, her whole world seemed to collapse.

She knew that she had no rights to the guy, that he had promised her nothing. And she understood perfectly well that they were not in a relationship, and that in fact he could spend his time with anyone. But her heart beat painfully in her chest from the realization that all those sweet and meaningful moments with him were now just nothing.

All those notes, flowers, late-night calls and conversations, that almost kiss - were now nothing and it broke her heart.

But the worst thing about this situation was the realization that instead of talking, JJ just decided to ignore her and ghost her, coming up with stupid excuses not to see her.

Maybe she did something wrong? Or maybe some of her words hurt him? Or was she too clingy? A lot of questions were spinning in the girl's head, but all she could do was lock herself in her room and cry, glad that Sarah had gone to her family for a couple of days. She didn't want to discuss this topic with anyone, not even with her best friend.

From that day on, she stopped texting JJ in the morning and calling in the evenings when she returned from rehearsals. She stopped opening the door to the courier, who continued to bring her flowers from him. And she hid his hoodie, smelling of the sea, away in the closet. She cut JJ Maybank out of her life, devoting herself to dancing, shutting herself off from the world around her.

At first, JJ did not notice that the girl had pulled away from him, immersed in her business and work.

More precisely, he noticed that she no longer wrote or called him after training, but for the first three days he attributed it to her busy schedule. Maybank remembered that she had mentioned preparing for an audition for a Broadway troupe, and thought that was what she was doing. But when he hadn't heard from her for a week, he got worried.

To tell the truth, JJ has been restless all week. He was so used to her presence in his life, to her morning messages that gave him energy for the whole day, to her evening calls and laughter on the phone that made his soul feel better, that the absence of these small moments felt like emptiness. Like a black corridor with no exit.

And JJ started writing to her himself, but he didn't get a reply. Then he started calling her, but all the calls were forwarded to the voicemail. He went to the academy, but he never saw her. And eventually he met Sarah, who was also completely unaware.

“Since I came from my parents, she hasn't been herself,” Sarah admitted, biting her lip, frowning slightly. “She hardly talks to me, she's always rehearsing, and it's like she's dropped out of life. I do not know what's wrong with her, JJ.”

Because of the whole situation, JJ Maybank couldn't live fully.

He continued to write to her, call her, even wrote letters by hand, as in those romantic films that she loved so much, throwing them under her door, but he never received an answer. Not a single response in a month.

He had been living without her in his life for a whole fucking month, and if before he was sure that he was in love with her, now JJ Maybank was a thousand percent sure that he loved her to the point of insanity and physical pain.

He wanted to hear her laugh every day. He wanted to wake up and see her smile and sparkling eyes first. He wanted to listen to her endless chatter about her favorite actors, singers and dancers. He wanted to watch her dance, watch how her soul seemed to rise somewhere higher, to where he had no access. He wanted to watch her laugh, blush, cry, be sad or angry for the rest of his life.

JJ Maybank wanted to spend his whole life with her. Because she is life itself. She is the ocean, the sound of waves, wet sand and warm sun. She's Kildare. She's his home.

And JJ Maybank wasn't going to give up on that. Not today. Not now. Never.

The sun had long sunk below the horizon. It was raining like hell, and even if JJ had an umbrella, it definitely wouldn't have saved him. No one could hide from the spring rains of New York.

JJ was standing under a tree near the entrance to the Academy of Fine Arts, waiting for her.

Today, JJ will solve all their problems and confess his feelings to her. No matter the weather, no matter her mood, or even the meteor shower, he will do everything to make her listen to him. And if after that she decides that she doesn't want to see him, then he will leave her life forever. But if, for once in his life, luck would be on his side, and she reciprocates, then... then he will never let her go.

The big front door opened and Y/N walked out of the building, lifting her head up, looking at the sky. JJ froze for a second, watching as she lifted her backpack over her head and walked down the marble steps so beautiful and elegant. He hadn't seen her for almost a month and a half, and now that she was so close to him, all thoughts and intentions left his head. And just like the first time they met, he could only look at her and enjoy the view. But as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk and she headed for the bus stop, JJ came out of his hiding place calling her name.

The girl stopped halfway, slowly looking over her shoulder at the blond man approaching her. The world stopped around her in a second. She felt her knees ready to buckle, and her heart began to beat a painfully familiar accelerated rhythm. But before her feelings could fully grasp her again, the girl pulled herself together and turned away, swiftly walking away from him.

“No, wait! We need to talk!" JJ shouted through the noise of the rain, starting to run, catching her by the forearm and turning her towards him. The girl's eyes widened when his hand touched the bare skin of her forearm and her whole body felt like it was on fire.

“Let me go,” she said coldly, and JJ was a little taken aback, but did not let go of her hands, shaking his head negatively. He won't leave until he's sorted it out. He needed answers. And he needed her even more.

“I won't let you go until you tell me what's the matter with you"

The girl stared at the guy in shock, and then laughed out loud, throwing her head back, lowering the bag, as her hand was tired of holding it over her head. Raindrops immediately began to roll down her face and hair, drenching her to the skin in a second.

“Are you serious? What's the matter? You tell me what's the matter, JJ! Tired of your new doll and you decided to come back to me again, huh?”

Her eyes sparkled with the fire of anger, burning a hole in the uncomprehending JJ. She was furious and it was the first time he had seen her like this and did not understand what he had done to arouse such reaction in her. Her bag fell to the sidewalk and she came closer, lifting her head a little higher, looking straight into his eyes.

“What? Did you also play with her, made her feel needed, desired, and then dumped her? Yeah, Maybank? Did you do the same to her?”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed her palms into his chest. The guy staggered, but remained standing in place, frowning, watching her eyes fill with tears. Or was it just the rain?

“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me! Did you do the same to her as you did to me?" The girl roared in his face, pushing him in the chest once more before taking a step back, shaking her head.

She turned away for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. JJ heard her sniffle and felt his heart clench with pain. He didn't understand what she was angry about, who she was talking about and what she wanted him to say. Maybank wanted to pull her closer to him and calm her down, to tell her that everything would be fine and that they could work it out, but he was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening and couldn't even move.

“You know, I believed that you really liked me. I believed that for the first time in my life, someone liked me, and not Sarah or one of my friends, but you...” she sniffled again, wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I-I really believed you… Why didn't you tell me you weren't interested in me? Why didn't you say you didn't want to talk to me? Why did you make up excuses that you were working or-”

“Excuses? I was really working. I took extra shifts and I-” finally realizing the reality of the situation, JJ began to speak, but she immediately interrupted him, throwing a look full of pain and resentment.

“I saw you and that girl coming out of the coffee shop together when you said you were going to work!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, running her fingers through her dump hair.

JJ rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant, which girl she was talking about, until he remembered Brittany, his dance coach. He signed up for dance classes a month ago. Was it really all because of that? Was she ignoring him because she thought he was just having fun with her? No, no, she couldn't have thought that.…

“Hey, hey, no, it's all not what it seems,” the guy shook his head, taking a step forward, reaching for her hands, removing them from her face, squeezing them in his own.

His eyes scanned her face. The mascara flowed from moisture and tears, the eyes were slightly reddened, and the nose was swollen. And JJ looked at her again. Not understanding why she would even think that he would like someone like Brittany when she was all he could dream of. His hands cupped her face and with his thumbs he gently wiped away the black marks under her eyes. A soft sob escaped her lips and a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, swallowing, breathing heavily.

“The truth is... that Brittany girl... she's my dance teacher,” JJ whispered and looked into her eyes, which were looking at him questioningly. She looked like a little lost child and he chuckled softly.

“That night, at Sarah's birthday party, when you asked me to dance…" J closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He hoped that he would never have to admit it, and that his dancing lessons would remain a secret, but she had to know the truth so as not to consider him the jerk who played with her feelings. JJ didn't want her to think that of him. “I refused because I can't dance. And I was... I was ashamed. Dancing is your whole life and I would just embarrass myself in front of you… And you'd think I was some kind of fool...”

“But I-I would never have th-thought that,” the girl whispered softly. J opened his eyes, caught her sincere gaze and smiled. God, what a fool he was.

“That's right, but I... I was an insecure jerk, princess,” the guy admitted, grinning, tucking a wet curl behind her ear. “I'm… It all happened so fast and I... I never saw myself catching these feelings. I never asked for help or needed the healing. And I decided to take these damn dance classes for you... and I didn't want you to find out because I... because I'm a complete idiot, apparently,” the guy laughed softly, shaking his head.

JJ let go of her face and took a couple of steps back, giving her time to process everything he said. He could feel his heart beating wildly against the walls of his chest while she stood and was silent, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Listen, Princess. I know I should have told you and all that earlier, but I... God, you're driving me crazy, you know? I can't think, speak, or breathe when you're around. I'm head over heels in love with you, angel” Maybank ran his fingers through the hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I can't stop the way that this felt. It keeps coming round and round and round and back again”

She looked at him in silence, feeling as if the heart that she had broken herself was beginning to heal from his words. And she wanted to cry how stupid she had been to believe that JJ was playing with her. While he was taking dance lessons so as not to look like a fool in front of her… She knew he didn't like dancing, but for her sake he went to classes to learn. For her sake, he stepped over himself a bunch of times, worked overtime and did everything to make her happy, and she just...

A loud sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears blurring her eyes. Her legs buckled and she almost fell to the ground, but JJ quickly picked her up, hugging her to him.

“I'm sorry, Jay! I'm so so so sorry, I was such a fool! I-I-I didn't mean to! I-I-didn't know,” the girl whimpered into his chest, clinging to his soaked T-shirt. His free hand slowly stroked her wet hair while his other hand held her on her feet.

“Shhh… Everything's fine now, right? We'll figure it out and everything will be fine,” the guy whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “You believe me, don't you?”

The girl raised her head looking at his calm face, on which raindrops were running, at his wet hair and soft smile, and her soul felt so warm, as if in a second she was at home in the warmth next to the fireplace with a warm mug of tea in her hands, and not standing under the cold pouring rain in the middle of the street. Her hand slowly soared into the air and removed the bangs that stuck to his forehead before nodding in agreement.

JJ's gaze swept over her soft features. First the eyes, then the pink cheeks and plump lips that he wanted to kiss so much. The guy exhaled, raising his eyes again, looking into hers.

“Will you dance with me?” He whispered hoarsely, without taking his eyes off her, holding out his hand.

She smiled, and it seemed to him that this smile could light up the whole world if the sun ever went out. She gently placed her hand in his palm, and put the other on his shoulder. JJ squeezed her hand, pulling her closer by the waist, so that he felt every cell of her body and took the first hesitant step, which she followed without even thinking.

Her gaze was focused on his eyes, blue as two oceans, in which she was drowning more and more with each new step of the dance. For the first time, she didn't think about what move she should make next, or what position to stand in to look good on stage, or about getting to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time, she danced just for herself, as she felt and as she wanted, completely trusting in the hands of JJ Maybank. He with trepidation and tenderness whirled her around in a dance on the ever-hurrying streets of New York, which at that moment stopped their run. Leaving only her, JJ and their dance in this vast world.

“I think love you, JJ,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her throat from excitement. Maybank stopped holding her in his arms, studying her face carefully before saying hoarsely, “Say it again".

“I love you,” she said on an exhale, and as soon as these words were uttered for the second time, Maybank pulled her face closer and kissed her. Gently. No rush. Like he haven't kissed anyone else before her. Trying to feel every emotion to the fullest.

The New York's rain comes pouring down, not even thinking to stop. And JJ Maybank didn't like the New York's rain. He didn't like New York and the people who live here. He disliked theater, ballet and dancing.

But JJ Maybank loved the sea, the sun and sandy beaches. He also loved surfing and Kildare, which he had to leave three years ago. He loved his home, which was thousands of miles from New York.

Y/N Y/L loved New York with its weather and people. She lived by dancing and dreamed of performing on Broadway and had never been to North Carolina. But despite this, JJ Maybank saw her as his home: the waves of the sea in her laughter, the sandy beaches in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile.

And next to her, it turned out that New York and North Carolina were not so different, and that his home would never be a thousand miles away. And from now on, It will always stay next to him, in his arms, on his lips, in his heart.

Because now JJ Maybank knew that his home had never been a place. It's always been a person. And it's her.

that’s my first such loooong oneshot here so, i’m a little nervous to post it. but i rly hope it came out good n not too boring.

I will be glad to receive any feedback. a comment, like or reblog always pleases that little writer’s heart of mine.

but, nevertheless, thankx for reading <3

– your santi ✨

#– santi 🪐#jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #obx fic #obx x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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banamine-bananime · 25 days

Text

AITA for trying to save my friend and keep the rest of my asshole friends safe from their bad decisions?

I (M26) just went through this real shitty breakup. So basically, my ex C (M lmao man fuck if i know his age idek if knows it. or has one i guess) has this god-fucking-awful habit of deciding to solve every problem by dying about it and/or fucking off without so much as a word to the people unfortunate enough to give a shit about him, except maybe his sister (unhelpful for the rest of us because she also inherited the "fucking off without a word" gene. man fuck this whole family for making me care about them. whatever). Also, killing himself inside peoples brains thats like a whole hobby for him. like okay either ghost us OR kill yourself in front of us altering the trajectory of our lives forever PICK ONE like a NORMAL person.

Okay wait im not explaining this well. So years ago C and W (M37 now) were partners but C was, uh, in a really bad place mentally (S is telling me this is more diplomatic to say than "crazy af") and that situationship ended as badly as a situationship can end. I mean W's told me he pretty much had his sense of identity as someone separate from C totally destroyed by that for a while, which like, in hindsight its kinda an accidental dick move that our team made him take C's legal identity, but in our defense a) the fuck were we supposed to know?, b) tbf he really did need it not to go back to prison, c) it's not like C was using his identity, on account of the fucking off and effectively-dying-as-a-solution habits, and d) i mean. i gotta admit it's also pretty funny in a really fucked way.

aw shit derailed on a tangent again

recently its just like, we just get so focused on one thing its hard to remember anything else, you know?

S is so good at getting us back on track though. thank god because you would not believe the number of irons weve got in the fire to keep track of, its ridiculous. (i love making my partner be the planner in the relationship lol. highly recommend being a passenger princess in the body sometimes. fuck massages, i'm telling you THIS is what you need after a long day getting shit DONE and taking care of everyone else's messes)

So I met C 6 years ago, right out of basic, when we were privates stationed at the same base. middle of nowhere. shit, this is gonna be hard to explain, just realized i should use different names for C to keep them straight. I knew "A" and W knew "E", i didnt meet E until years later. theyre alters and also the same guy but also not the same guy. dont worry about it if you dont get it bc ive dated both of them and i dont think i do. my life is stupid.

Bunch of bullshit happened, A ghosted (lol. you'd be high-fiving me if you knew him) and then found a problem to solve by dying. you get it by now.

Then i meet E, E encounters a problem and tries to die about it round one (i guess round two, after exploding in W <- LOL. you should be high-fiving me right now), E's sister drags him back to the land of the living, E ghosts, W and i start dating, W tries to martyr himself and disappears because i guess E rubbed off on him (dude i am on a fucking roll. you should be high-fiving me out of pity for my glamorously miserable soap-opera life if nothing else. homophobic not to), our team gets W back, E strolls back like he has no idea why im mad at him, we fight about it, makeup-makeouts about it, and E tries to die about it round two: in my brain boogaloo.

So thats how S and i meet. oops, guess i never introduced S? Feels weird to have to introduce ourself twice, people dont really meet us separately anymore LOL. S (M, ageless) is also C's alter, my partner in life and badassery and brain and body. and obviously freaky sex stuff, that goes without saying but i'm saying it anyway to brag. the swish swish to my stabbing people who really deserve it. Not really interested in your opinion on our relationship, it's not what i'm asking about. we're aware its not conventional, because we're not fucking braindead. Im so sick of all the "oooohhhhh this isn't healthy", "he's a male manipulator and youre codependent i know bc i learned psychology from tiktoks by girls with green hair", "why are you wearing your ex-boyfriend's armor colors while wearing his dead ex-boyfriend's armor while dating and sharing a brain with your dead mutual ex's alter", "have you considered going to therapy instead of a quest against death itself" blah blah blah. If youre so bored you need to judge our life then just get your own 🙄🙄🙄

we've been really on that sigma grindset the last few weeks. S has got our sleep optimized down to a tight triphasic 3.46 hours and we're minmaxing the fuck out of the rest of every day. Biohacked to shit over here. too much to do, so we have to make there be enough of our time to do it. who else is gonna? my teammates? the REDS? we're half batman half babysitter to a gaggle of idiots who can barely be trusted to wipe their own asses, let alone fight their own battles and make decisions like "wah wah wah A is dead let's just give up and cry about it or whatever".

Don't even get me started on W. Oh youre all about character-building wake up and grind self-improvement and taking leadership until we're making decisions you dont like, i guess. WHATEVER. this is why we dont listen to you.

its hard, okay. like, you cant understand the sheer fucking stress were under trying to keep all our plans going smoothly while keeping these guys safe while they're basically actively trying to unravel every carefully-laid thread and also strangle themselves in them. im probably going prematurely grey and also losing some time. its hard to remember when we need to hold back and use the kiddy gloves. i really didnt want to come to holding - uh, we'll call him MC (M25) - by the throat, passed-out. he's like a brother to me, been through thick and fucking thin together, so yeah, i feel really bad about that, my bad, we were the asshole there, but like, maybe stop throwing yourself in the way? like run out into the road you're gonna get hit by a truck no matter how hard they slam the brakes. mfw the conses quence. but im NOT asking about that. everyone's been on our dick about "please god stop doing all of this" and abandoning A and trying to break us up way before that, and THAT'S what im asking about

Anyways tl;dr are we the asshole for getting shit done when it takes methods that all our monday morning quarterback friends dont like

_____

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might be the asshole:

it really was a dick move to dangle my teammate's limp body in a chokehold even though it was basically an accident and also not even directly relevant to the question

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might not be the asshole:

okay but we're right

#red vs blue #rvb restoration #lavernius tucker

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joeshiestyslover · 1 year

Text

you promised

pairing: joe burrow x actress!reader

summary: joe promised to come to your premiere, but sometimes, some promises aren’t always kept

warnings: language, hints to smut at the end, very shitty dialogue, angst with a happy ending

lowercase intended

after all the months that you spent filming and working around your busy schedule, you were finally done. your long awaited netflix tv show was coming out in two days. you couldn’t be more excited for both the release and the premiere. this is your big break, this show is going to put you on the map. after this show, more and more people are gonna want to know your name.

you picked out the perfect dress, shoes, and jewelry for the premiere. but you couldn’t forget your perfect date, joe burrow. you and joe met in college at lsu while you were studying psychology. you both immediately clicked and have been together ever since. joe is the perfect boyfriend, the whole package. he’s sweet and extremely charming. it also helps that he’s fine as fuck.

after joe was drafted to the bengals, you made the leap and decided to move with him to cincinnati. it turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made. the city is beautiful, easy to navigate and you get to be around joe almost all the time.

you’re in the bedroom packing for your trip to brooklyn, new york, where the premiere is scheduled to be held. you’re just about to head into the bathroom to collect your toiletries when you hear the garage door open. finally, joe was home and you finally have the chance to talk to him about what he is going to wear to the premiere.

“babe, i’m home!” you hear joe yell from downstairs. shortly after, you hear his heavy footsteps coming towards your shared bedroom. you then feel his arms snake around your waist and him pressing his lips to your cheek. “whatcha doing?” he asks. “i’m packing.” you respond. “for what?” ummmm. “for the the flight to new york tomorrow morning” you remind him. “my premiere’s in two days remember?” “shit y/n” he starts. oh hell no, you think. “joseph lee burrow, do not tell me you forgot about one of the most important nights of my life.” you slightly raise your voice as you turn around to face him. “i’m so sorry, but i promised the rookies i’d take them out to dinner.” you are beyond pissed now. if it slipped his mind, that’s one thing, but making plans on top of it and basically insinuating that his plans were more important than yours, that’s where you draw the line.

“you promised joe.” you can feel the tears of frustration start to pool in your eyes, but you don’t dare to let them fall. “you said you would be there and i expected you to keep your fucking promise.” “i really am sorry y/n, but i can’t skip this dinner; i promised those guys.” he says regretfully. “promised, my ass joseph. so you can keep your promises to your new teammates, but you can’t keep your promise to me? your girlfriend of three years? are you fucking kidding me?” you’re yelling now, no longer being able to hold back the tears.

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.” now joe was starting to get angry, as if he has the fucking right. “oh really?” you scoff. “then what did you mean? please enlighten me.” “i-” he starts to say, but you cut him off. “save it joe i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. i am going to that premiere because i promised everyone that i would, and unlike you joseph, i keep my promises.” at the last word, you poke at his chest, but you weren’t done yet. “you know i don’t see how it’s fair that i’m at every single event that’s important to you, and i show up to almost every game, and i have no problem cancelling plans with my friends, hell, even my fucking family, but you can’t push your stupid dinner back a couple of days for me? you know how important this is to me, but apparently it doesn’t mean shit to you.” “y/n-” “shut the fuck up joe. i’m going to this premiere, with or without you, but just so you know, if i show up alone, then it will be a very clear reflection of just how much you care about me and my accomplishments.” by the time you’re done with your rant, you’re panting, and you can feel the tears stalling at your chin. joe looks at you with sad eyes, but it’s clear that he has nothing to say.

“so that’s it? you’re just not gonna say anything?” you ask him, hoping he’ll get on his knees and beg to come with you to new york. but you’re met with silence. “okay” you say. “i’m gonna finish packing, then i’m gonna stay in the guest room tonight. if you change your mind, the flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow morning.” you take your toiletry bag into the bathroom and stuff your skincare products, makeup, and your hygiene products into it. you go back into the bedroom to find joe no longer standing there.

you can feel your tears resurfacing, but you refuse to cry for him. if he would rather go to dinner with his friends, then so be it. you were not going to let him ruin the best night of your life for you. after you finish packing, you grab your suitcase, and walk into your guest bedroom, but it’s already occupied by joe. he’s lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, acting like you didn’t just yell at him. wow, you think. he doesn’t even feel just a little bit guilty. you walk out of the room and go back into your bedroom. you don’t like how it feels in there. it’s cold and gloomy, much different than the usual joy and warmth it’s filled with. you set your alarm for 7:00 and go straight to bed, not wanting to think about joe and your argument any longer. you toss and turn on the bed for god knows how long, knowing that joe is probably sleeping just fine without you. sleep is different without him, and you don’t like it one bit. all you want is to run into that guest bedroom and crawl into bed next to him, but you will not give into him; not until he gets his head out of his ass. finally, after what feels like hours of just rolling around the bed, you fall asleep.

your alarm blaring wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. after a few minutes of just lying on your bed, you sit up and walk into your bathroom. you look in the mirror, with your reflection looking back at you. i look like a fucking mess, you think to yourself. you brush out your hair and put it up just to keep it out of your face. then after brushing your teeth, you walk out of the bathroom and sneak down the hall to the guest room. you quietly open the door, and see him still sleeping. you want to wait a while, just to see if he’ll wake up and go to the airport with you, but you can’t. you know that the thirty minutes you spend waiting will turn into an hour, then two hours, and you’ll end up missing your flight, and you won’t let that happen.

you shut the door and go into your room to grab your suitcase and backpack. you roll it into your living room, and sit on your couch while waiting for the uber you ordered. you’re on your phone scrolling through tiktok, when you hear a door open and footsteps coming closer to you. you look up and find joe staring at you. joe breaks the eye contact and walks into the kitchen. your worst fear confirmed; you were going to new york alone. you soon get the alert that your uber has just pulled up to your house, so you grab your stuff and walk out your front door without sparing joe a single glance.

the trip to new york went smoothly, and you were able to check into your hotel, but you forgot the reservation was made under joe’s name. oh great! another reminder that he isn’t going to show up! you do everything you can to not think about joe, but everything seems to remind you of him. you hate being without him. you have the urge to text him, but you can’t. he has to know that he fucked up and he won’t be forgiven that easily.

the day of the premiere you’re shitting bricks. you didn’t realize just how much you need joe until you didn’t have him by your side helping you calm down. it also doesn’t help that he has been absolutely radio silent. the tiny voice in the back of your head constantly telling you, you’re not important enough and he has better things to do than waste his time with you.

you try to keep your mind off of him. you try to converse with your hair and makeup artist whilst she gets you ready. it works for a while, but you can’t stop thinking about him. he should be here, spending this moment with you, laughing and smiling with you, but if he didn’t think that you were important enough then fuck him.

once it’s time to go, you hop into the limousine, and it takes you to the theater where the premiere is. when you get there, the limo comes to a stop, and you get out. as soon as you walk out, you can hear thousands of people screaming your name. you plaster on a fake smile and walk over to the screaming fans, signing autographs and taking pictures. you’re soon guided by your manager to different reporters wanting to interview you. the first few interviews going great; the interviewers mostly asking what filming was like and how well you get along with your costars. one of the interviewers however, asks you the question you have been dreading to answer. “so y/n y/ln, where is your boyfriend, joe burrow tonight?” you try to think of an answer without sounding snippy or pitiful. “well you know we’re very busy people” you start to say. “sometimes our schedules just don’t align the way we want them to, so we just have to accept it and move on.” okay, that went well.

you finish up interviews and start to pose for pictures, the flashing of the cameras becoming almost blinding. after a few minutes, your manager walks up to you. “joe’s here.” she says.

what.

you look at her confused until you look over her shoulder to find your boyfriend dressed in a black suit with subtle patterns walking towards you. you don’t know whether to smile at him or slap him. he comes up to you and hugs you tightly as he whispers in your ear, “i’m so sorry baby, you were right. i was so fucking selfish and you deserve the same amount of support that you give me.” you fight the tears and whisper back a “thank you.”

you two pose for a little while longer until it’s time to walk into the theater. you take your seats, and joe takes your hand into his. soon after you sit down, the first two episodes of the show start to play on the screen. about halfway into the second episode, you look over at joe to see him with slight tears in his eyes. he feels your gaze, and turns to you with a smile. you smile back at him and once again turn your attention to the big screen.

once the episodes ended, you and joe socialize with your costars a bit during the after party before deciding it was time to go home. as you both start to walk back to joe’s car, he stops and turns to you. “i know i already told you, but words cannot explain how sorry i am. i was selfish and an idiot, and i was wrong for not taking your feelings into account. i love you and it wasn’t fair to you at all.” joe tells you with tears threatening to escape his eyes. “joe, i love you more than anything, and i’m glad you realized you were wrong, but this cannot happen again. what you did was hurtful, and all i wanted was for you to want to experience this moment with me. you made me feel unimportant, and as though you didn’t care about my successes.” you tell him, somehow holding back your sob, but your tears are flowing freely. “i never wanted to make you feel that way y/n. i’m so fucking proud of you and i’m so happy for you. you mean everything to me; i promise you this won’t happen again, and i know that i’m not the best at keeping my promises, but i intend on keeping this one.”

“good.” you smile. you wrap your hand around the back of his neck and you pull his lips to meet yours. the kiss slowly becomes more and more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. after a while of making out in the parking lot, you both break away for air. “you wanna go back to the hotel and celebrate properly?” you ask him, panting. “fuck yeah baby.” he picks you up over his shoulder and all but sprints to the car, unable to wait to get you back to the hotel room.

a/n: i hope y’all liked it. i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so please go easy on me 😭😭

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fluff #cincinnati #cincinatti bengals #nfl #stranger things #actress!reader #angst with a happy ending #angst to fluff

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Hi again Bestie!

This is for the Enemies to Lovers Angsty Joel ask. I was thinking a new reader with show Canon Joel? But if that’s too much work and it works better with Lavender Joel and doc that’s fine too!!

aaa thank you so much for responding!!

OMG HI BESTIE!

Thank you so much for the ask and for being patient! I hope this fits with what you're looking for. Thank you for reading and reaching out! Love you!!!

(This ask came in from @dundienominee and they're tagged with permission HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!)

Loathe/Lust

You have every reason to hate Joel fucking Miller. He knows it. It doesn't stop him from coming to you for help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is 27 and has known Joel since she was 25, Joel is 46.) SMUT :D Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.4k

Spring, 2013

At the end of the world, there were very few constants.

One, you were fucking tired of jerky.

Two, there was never a shortage of people who needed healing.

Three, you hated Joel fucking Miller.

Everything else could shift and change but those things were facts.

Jerky was a staple of every meal because, with QZ food, there was no such thing as fresh. There was often no such thing as enough, either, but fuck were you tired of jerky.

And QZ life wasn’t easy on anybody. People needed a lot of patching up here. You’d come up through FEDRA school, 17 and a junior in high school when the outbreak happened. You were tapped early for your aptitude for biology and taught the very basics for helping to keep people alive. You didn’t know much about the world before, you’d been a teenager when things went to shit, but you knew what they taught you barely qualified as medicine. Still, you did everything you could to help people. It was nice, having purpose in this shitty life.

Then there was Joel. Joel fucking Miller. Joel fucking Miller, drug smuggler. Joel fucking Miller, guy who got your brother mixed up in his stupid illegal activities. Joel fucking Miller, the man who introduced your brother to fucking Marlene. Joel fucking Miller, the person you really blamed for your idiot brother taking off across the country to help the goddamn Fireflies as though there was a single fucking thing people could do to fix this disaster, to bring down FEDRA. Without Joel fucking Miller, Nathan never would have gotten hooked on drugs to begin with, never would have been vulnerable, never would have fallen for Marlene’s bullshit.

If it wasn’t for Joel fucking Miller, you wouldn’t be here, alone.

But you were.

And you hated him for it.

And he knew that you hated him for it.

Which is why it was a hell of a shock when there was a knock on your door late one Thursday night, just before curfew, and Joel was there, grimacing and panting for breath.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” you snapped, almost slamming the door on him. He threw his hand out and caught it before you could, his thick fingers closing around the edge of it.

“Not any happier about this than you are, Brat,” he spoke through clenched teeth, using the nickname your brother always called you. The name he’d called you for 22 years before he went across the country because of Joel fucking Miller. “But I don’t exactly got another choice.”

He adjusted his leg so you could see it in the light. A knife was embedded there, right where his femoral artery would be.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Can’t exactly go to the clinic with this,” he said. “But you’re dumb enough to take that fuckin’ doctor’s oath seriously so…”

“Calling me dumb probably isn’t the smartest move when you want me to save your goddamn life,” you glared at him.

“I ain’t wrong.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed, opening your door wide and stepping out of the way. He limped inside, going for the couch. “Don’t even think about it, asshole. Kitchen table, if I’ve got to clean your blood off my floor I’m not trying to get it out of the fucking carpet.”

He grimaced but obeyed, heading for the table and sitting down heavily in one of your mismatched wooden chairs. You went to collect what you’d need to - hopefully - keep him from fucking dying in your apartment and came back, propping his injured leg up on another chair before pulling a third one up alongside him. You put a towel down below him and took your scissors and cut his jeans, exposing his leg where the knife was sticking out.

“At least you weren’t dumb enough to pull it out,” you muttered, examining the wound. “Know how big the knife is?”

“Big,” Joel said wryly.

You glared at him.

“I meant in inches. Not that you men can judge inches worth a damn…”

“I can,” he said. “And it’s about 8 inches. Trust me, I know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he did.

“Alright,” you said, actually meeting his gaze. His eyes were oddly gentle, a softness to them that made your heart ache a little when you looked at him too long. “I’m going to do what I can here and I have my shit set up and ready to go but if this thing shredded your femoral artery, you’re going to bleed out and die in just a few minutes and there won’t be a goddamn thing I can do about it. I’m as prepared as I can be for a heavy bleed but if you’re really fucked you’d need someone to take a blood vessel from one part of your body and use it to patch the femoral and it should go without saying that I can’t do that in my fucking kitchen. I could put a tourniquet on you and try to get you to the clinic but…”

“FEDRA would just finish me off,” he nodded. “I get it.”

You paused for a second, looking at him.

“I really will do everything I can,” you said, actually earnestly speaking to him for a change. You felt… bad for him. For Joel fucking Miller. You didn’t like the guy but you didn’t want him dead.

You pulled on gloves.

“Look, Brat, I know this is a win/win for you, alright?” He smirked a little. “Either I owe you or I’m dead and you don’t have to fuckin’ deal with me anymore. Promise I won’t haunt you if I finally got myself killed, OK?”

You nodded and tried to wrap your head around the idea that Joel fucking Miller might be dead at your kitchen table in a few minutes.

“Anything you want me to tell people if…”

“Don’t have much I’m leavin’ behind,” he said, actually serious now. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him be serious before. He sighed. “Been fine with dyin’ for a while. About time it caught up with me. Just tell Tess and Tommy I’m sorry for fuckin’ ‘em over. Sorry to you, too, for draggin’ you into it. Don’t have anyone else.”

You nodded again. Why was Joel making you feel bad for him? Making you think of him like a person instead of some asshole now? When it’d be on you to keep his stupid ass alive?

“Right.”

You cracked your neck and loosened your body up before putting a hand on his bare thigh. His skin was warm and soft, his leg muscled and thick.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch,” you warned him. “But you need to stay completely still, otherwise something that wasn’t already fucked up might get fucked up. I’ve got to pull the blade out as straight as I can, try to get it to go the same path it went in, OK?”

“OK,” he nodded, his large hands going to the base of his thigh, like he was going to hold himself still. He looked at you again. “Meant what I said. It’s really… it’s alright if it kills me, OK? Don’t want you to feel like shit if it does. Not your fault.”

“Yeah, I’d hardly feel like shit for taking you out, Miller,” you rolled your eyes even though the idea of him dying mad your stomach turn. Maybe it was because it would be on your shoulders and you didn’t want anyone to die because of you. Even Joel fucking Miller, the man you hated more than anyone else. The thought that part of him wanted to die made your chest tight. You took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

You pulled the knife out as quickly as you could while also holding it steady - which, as it happens, wasn’t all that quick. Joel hissed in pain but, to his credit, didn’t move.

There was a fair bit of blood once the blade was freed but it wasn’t a full-blown arterial bleed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good news, you’re not going to bleed out on my kitchen floor,” you set the knife down and grabbing gauze, putting pressure on the wound. “You missed your femoral artery. I still need to get this bleeding to slow down before I can stitch you up and you’ll need to take it easy for a bit but you’ll be fine.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he smirked a little but still. He looked relieved.

“You’re a constant disappointment so I’m used to it.”

He snorted and relaxed back into his seat, crossing his arms, watching you hold the gauze to his leg. His bare, strong leg. You swallowed.

“Hear from your brother at all?” He asked.

You looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Every now and then.”

“He doin’ OK?”

“Fine, from what I can tell,” you replied. “Doesn’t have anyone giving him a steady stream of fucking drugs which I’m sure helps.”

He shrugged.

“Demand is demand, Brat,” he said. “Don’t blame the supply.”

“Want me to go back in and cut your femoral artery?” You snapped. “Because I can make that happen.”

“Honey, I don’t think you could cut the femoral artery of someone who was tryin’ to kill you if you had the chance,” he smirked. “Not gonna do it to me. You should work on that.”

You just rolled your eyes and changed out the gauze.

“In just a second I’m going to get to stab you over and over with a needle,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Think I’ll see just how close together I can get these stitches. Can’t wait.”

It didn’t take long for the bleeding to slow and you did, indeed, stab Joel fucking Miller 20 times in the leg with a needle.

“There,” you said, looking over your handiwork. “Looks like you’ll live to ruin lives another day.”

“Livin’ the dream,” there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. You set the needle down and took off your gloves before getting up.

“Alright, you’re not going home tonight,” you said, squatting down so your shoulder was tucked into his underarm. “It’s after curfew, anyway, and I’m not about to let you waste all the trouble I just went through by getting picked up by fucking FEDRA. I’m moving you to the couch and going to set you up so that leg is elevated. You can go home in the morning.”

He nodded and shifted in his chair until part of his weight was on you. He was big, bigger than you really realized, his weight more substantial than you’d expected. He was so broad. You hadn’t been close to him before, had never realized it. He sat heavily on the couch and he hefted his injured leg up as you grabbed some towels to stack below his ankle.

“Comfortable?” You asked, hands on your hips.

“Think there might be a pea under one of these cushions…” You flipped him off with a roll of your eyes. He smiled. “I’m good. Thank you. For… well, all of it. Appreciate it.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “I’ll work on that so next time I can finish you off.”

He smirked.

“Whatever you say, Brat.”

You woke up early but Joel was already gone.

You didn’t see him again until he showed up at your door almost a week later, not long after you got home from a shift at the clinic.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” You asked.

“Just you.”

He held out a book and you frowned and took it. It was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

“What…”

“Saw you had some of her on your bookshelf there,” he nodded toward it. “But didn’t see that one and it’s the only one I’d fuckin’ heard of… Anyway. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do but…” you turned the book over in your hands. It was a nice copy, with a cloth cover and a ribbon bookmark. It would have cost a small fortune on the black market. You looked up at him. “Why are you giving me this?”

He shrugged.

“Saw it, thought of you. Wanted to say thanks for not killin’ me.”

“You really don’t…”

“I know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “See you around, Brat.”

He left while you were still staring at the book.

It was three months before he was back at your door again. You’d read Pride and Prejudice twice since then, disappearing into the story, reluctantly thankful to Joel fucking Miller for the best escape you’d had from the QZ in years.

This time, it was after curfew and he was clutching his arm, soaking wet as it poured rain outside. You just sighed and wordlessly opened your door.

He came in and sat at your kitchen table while you grabbed towels and gave him one.

“Don’t have a knife lodged in there do you?” You asked, grabbing your stash of medical supplies.

“Not this time,” he dried his face and roughly pressed the towel to his hair. “But it’s a nasty cut that hasn’t stopped bleedin’, think I need stitches.”

“Can you take the shirt off?” You asked, going to the kitchen to wash your hands throughly.

“Think so,” he called after you.

You stopped in your tracks when you turned around. The shirt was off and Joel was… fucking beautiful. His chest and arms and shoulders were broad and sculpted, his stomach a little softer and inviting. You wanted to touch him, not as someone treating him but as someone experiencing him, enjoying him. You shook yourself mentally.

He was Joel fucking Miller. You were not going to get turned on by Joel fucking Miller.

“You just love giving me an excuse to stab you repeatedly don’t you?” You said, sitting in the char beside him and pulling on gloves.

“Figured you’d be bored,” he smirked. “Got a big knife if you want to try to take me out this time…”

He nodded to his belt and you looked down instinctively. He did, indeed, have a large knife strapped to his side. You rolled your eyes.

“Sit still while I do this,” you demanded.

“Yes ma’am.”

You disinfected and cleaned the wound before you started stitching it. You could hear Joel grimacing as you did and you tried to ignore just how good his damn arm looked as you worked on it.

“How’s Nathan?” He asked after a minute. You looked away from his wound to glare at him. “What?”

“He’s not here,” you snapped. “You can’t get him involved in your shit, can’t get him running drugs for you again, can’t get him putting his life on the line to feed his damn addiction, you can’t take advantage of his weakness so you can make more goddamn ration cards! So stop fucking asking!”

He was quiet and you went back to stitching.

“S’not why I ask,” he said after a moment.

“Then why do you?” You kept your eyes on your work this time.

“I’m not the one who got him hooked on that shit, you know,” he said, ignoring your question. You scoffed. “It’s true, I’m not. He was hooked well before I met the guy…”

“And how’d that happen?” You asked, harsher than you really meant to be.

“His dealer was a piece of shit,” Joel said. “Asshole named Robert. He knows who’s most vulnerable, who’s desperate, who he can overcharge and drive into debt. Nathan owed him money. A lot of fuckin’ money. He didn’t have it and Robert wasn’t too happy about that. So… I intervened.”

“Intervened?”

Joel shrugged and you glared at him, needle in your fingers.

“Sorry,” he said. “But… Robert’s an asshole but he’s smart enough to know that I’d fuck up him and his guys. So, I made him back off. But Nathan still needed the drugs so…”

“So he took up with you,” you finished for him, making the last stitch and tying it off. You cut the thread and sat back in your chair.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel said, titling his arm to look at your work. “Wasn’t tryin’ to get him into trouble. Was tryin’ to keep him out of it. Seemed like a good kid. Didn’t deserve to get killed because some asshole was takin’ advantage.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “But still. You deserved to know. And I do hope your brother’s doin’ OK. I know you think I’m bad news but the Fireflies ain’t exactly the Girl Scouts.”

“Well, nothing is anymore, right?” You took off the gloves and started cleaning up. “Sit tight, I’ll find you a shirt. It’s after curfew because apparently you can’t piss people off at a reasonable time. You can take the couch again.”

“See, Brat, it’s all part of my plan,” he smirked. “Come here too late for you to send me home so I can sleep on your strangely comfortable couch…”

You rolled your eyes and found a shirt your ex-boyfriend had abandoned at your place when you’d broken up. You handed it to him and he went to the couch, not needing your help this time.

“Try not to sleep on the side with the stitches,” you said. “That should go without saying but…”

“But you think I’m an idiot?” He asked, brows raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Something like that,” you said, turning to to go bed yourself. But you paused, doubling back. He’d settled back in on the couch, his uninjured arm behind his head. He frowned at you, questioningly. “Thanks. For the book, I mean. Hadn’t read Pride and Prejudice since before the outbreak but it was nice, reading it again. Though I think I’d rather you owe me a favor than get the book…”

“Still owe you the favor,” he said and then looked at the spot on his arm where the stitches were. “Two, now.”

You smiled a little. At Joel fucking Miller.

“Good to know.”

He was gone by morning.

The next time you were able to talk to Nathan via radio, you asked how he’d meet Joel. You asked about Robert.

“Oh yeah,” he said, as though this should have been obvious to you. “Think I owe that guy my life, honestly…”

“He was selling you drugs that could have killed you, Nathan,” you wished he were about 2,000 miles closer so you could grab him and shake him.

“It’s all relative,” he said. “He sure as shit didn’t do to me what Robert did, I’ll say that.”

Joel fucking Miller.

What if your brother was only alive because of Joel fucking Miller?

It was two months before you saw him again.

This time, it was at the clinic. He was sitting in one of the small triage areas, just a curtain around the bed and you sighed when you saw him. He smirked.

“What’d you do now?” You asked, looking down at the chart.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here to lie about symptoms so you’ll give me antibiotics to take back to Tommy. Think an injury of his got infected outside. Don’t want anyone lookin’ to closely at it.”

“Jesus, Miller,” you sighed. “Alright, what symptoms do you supposedly have?”

He rattled them off and you nodded along before sighing again.

“Let me get you antibiotics,” you said. “It’s a miracle none of you have fucking died, you realize that.”

“And I’m sure that’s a big disappointment for you,” he smirked.

“Every goddamn day.”

You went to the medicine cupboard and unlocked it, grabbing the pills you needed before closing it again when a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and ripped you around, so fast it made your head spin. You recognized the man standing so close to you that you could smell him. He’d been in the clinic a few times over the last few weeks, always complaining of pain. Everyone turned him away for drug seeking behavior but you could tell, the last time he was here, that he was getting desperate.

“Look you little bitch,” his large hand went for your throat before you had a chance to even fully realize what was happening, your eyes going wide. He thrust you back against the cabinet with a thud, knocking your head against it so hard that you felt your brain rattle in your skull. You dropped the bottle in your hand and it clattered to the ground as you instinctively clawed at his hand. He tightened his grip. “I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried asking. You’re going to give me what I fucking need or I’ll kill you and get it from someone else, understand?”

He squeezed tighter, your vision starting to get spotty. You couldn’t breathe and it’s not like you’d taken a deep breath before diving in the deep end of your parents’ pool. You wouldn’t last long without being able to breathe. Panic flared, acute and sharp, and your body scrambled to fight, to kick and scratch and punch to get a breath but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t letting you go. Your head was getting light and your vision was already narrowing when, suddenly the hand disappeared.

You collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air and looked up to see Joel on top of the man, a knee in his chest as he brought his fist down on his face again and again and again. The man tried to get his hands up to protect his face, then tried to land a hit on Joel but neither worked. Joel was almost eerily quiet as he pummeled the man, grunting with every blow, an almost unhinged look on his face.

“Joel!” You tried to yell for him as you pushed yourself to your hands and knees. Your body felt so weak compared to just a few minutes before. You couldn’t really talk, an unfamiliar, raspy sound the only thing that left you. You tried again, anyway. “Joel!”

You managed to make it to your feet and caught Joel’s elbow as he pulled it back one more time and he stopped, turning to look at you with that mad look on his face but it vanished the second he saw you. He dropped his arms, panting for breath, his eyes running over your face and neck. You pulled him back from the man as a nurse ran over to start examining Joel’s victim.

One of your hands went to your throat, cradling it gently and feeling for damage and you pointed to the pill bottle with the other one.

“Should get out of here,” you managed, though it sounded more like a garbled mess than actual words. But he seemed to understand. He picked up the bottle and gave you a last, lingering look before leaving the clinic.

One of doctors looked you over and said you’d be fine eventually, you just needed to rest. They offered you some pain pills - the same ones Nathan had been hooked on, the same ones the man today had been willing to kill you for - and you turned them down, just trudging home and collapsing on the couch when you got there.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked. It was the end of the world, after all, it had happened a few times before. But it was the first time you had the feeling that you were about to die. Even when you’d been held at knife point for ration cards you’d had the feeling that everything was going to be fine. Yeah, you’d be short on some ration cards that day but you’d be fine.

Not this time.

You tried to relax, drifting in and out of consciousness on your couch, trying not to think of the man with his hand around your throat. The way his fingers had bruised you, the way his palm had crushed into your windpipe. The ruddy tone of his skin, the desperate and angry look in his eyes, the stink of his sweat. It was all there, every time you closed your eyes and relaxed too much it was there.

You’d just drifted off again when there was a knock on your door. You groaned and forced yourself off the couch and opened the door, your hand cradling your throat. You were half expecting it to be a coworker, coming by to check in on you.

Instead, it was Joel.

“Don’t try n’talk if it’s gonna hurt your throat,” he said. You frowned a little at him. He had a canvas bag over one shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Not going to try and finish the job right?” You asked, voice strained and scratchy.

He rolled his eyes.

“Move, Brat.”

You made a face but stepped aside, anyway. Joel went past you to your kitchen, put the bag on the counter and started rifling through your cabinets. You followed him, frowning.

“What…” your hand was still against your throat, voice raw.

“Will you go sit down?” He gave you a look over his shoulder before going back to sifting through your things. “Jesus Christ…”

You threw your hands up but obeyed, sitting at your kitchen table and watching as Joel finally found what he was looking for. A pot, apparently. He put it on your stove and turned it on before going into the bag and pulling out a jar that he emptied into the pot. He stirred it for a moment before going into your freezer and finding the ice. He put some handfuls into a towel and came to the table, pulling out a chair and moving it so it was right in front of yours. He sat down and was so close to you that his thigh slotted between yours and you just sat there, looking at him, eyes wide.

“Move your hand,” he nodded toward it and you realized you were still holding your neck. You obeyed and he gently took your chin in his large hand - his knuckles cut and bruised - adjusting your head so he could examine your throat. “Damn, Honey, he got you real good.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Hush,” he ordered. “Hold your head still.”

He released your chin and lightly trailed his callused fingers over your throat, his touch lingering over where you knew was probably damaged and bruised. He took the ice in the towel and pressed it delicately to your skin.

“See, you do know how to listen,” he said. “Even does you good every now and then.”

You scoffed but you took the ice bundle from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. He sat back a little, his eyes running over the rest of you, his leg still between yours, the other brushing the outside of your thigh.

“He get you anywhere else?” He asked eventually. You shook your head a little. Joel nodded. “Good.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, voice a little clearer than it had been the last time you spoke.

“You need to eat somethin’,” he said. “And I owed you.”

“Why don’t I get to pick the favors?” You glared at him.

“I’ll still owe ya,” he shook his head a little. “Dyin’ to know what you’d cash it in on.”

“You and me both.”

It didn’t take long for the soup he brought to be done and he poured you a bowl of it. He got you both glasses of beer, also from the bag he’d brought. Your eyes went a little wide at your first bite of soup.

“What?” He frowned.

“This is good,” you said, going back for another bite.

Joel laughed.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m not totally useless.”

“How’s your hand?” You asked, looking at his knuckles. He flexed his fingers for a moment.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Had worse.”

You considered him for a moment. He frowned.

“What.”

“Why’d you do it?”

His frown deepened.

“Do what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Save me. And beat the shit out of that guy. You hate me. Why’d you do it? Was it just that you didn’t want to lose out on the person who will stitch you up in the middle of the night or…”

“Don’t hate you,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

You scoffed.

“You hate me,” you said, taking another bite of soup. The weirdly good soup. “I know you hate me.”

“How do you know I hate you.”

“Because I hate you,” you said, though you were starting to think that wasn’t true anymore.

“Yeah, noticed that,” he smirked a little.

“You call me brat…”

“Nate called you brat,” he replied. “And you are a brat. Seemed appropriate.”

“You’re never nice to me,” you said. “Well, except right now…”

“You’re never nice to me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to make your hatin’ me something that wasn’t fun for you, figured I should be mean back.”

“Hating you isn’t for fun you dick,” you glared at him.

“It’s not?” He looked a little amused by it all. “What’s it for then?”

“It’s for ruining my brother’s life!” You dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clatter and set the ice pack down with a little too much force. “For getting him mixed up in your fucking smuggling operation and getting him involved with the fucking Fireflies and making it so he left town and I’m just left here, alone! I’m alone, I have no one and nothing and it’s all your fucking fault!”

You weren’t entirely sure when you started crying but you were. The overwhelming, gasping, choking kind of crying that you had to fight to breathe through. You could feel it in your chest, the pressure of the tears building up behind your eyes, every pain you’d suffered the past year welling up and bursting free at once, all of it directed at Joel.

“Oh, Honey,” he leaned forward and gently took your face in his hand, drying your cheek with his thumb. His legs were on either side of yours. He delicately pulled you against him, your face going to his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, cradling you securely against his broad body. “I’ve got you, it’s OK…”

You stayed against him like that for a long time. Longer than you wanted to admit to. But it felt nice to be there in Joel’s arms. You didn’t have anyone here, didn’t really have friends outside of work. Your ex-boyfriend had broken things off a few months back and the idea of dating again the QZ sounded hellish so you just hadn’t done it. Joel, in that moment, felt like someone you had. He was someone that made it so you weren’t totally alone.

After a while, you’d calmed a bit, your tears slowing and your breaths coming easier. You kept your face buried in Joel’s shoulder, shifting a little so your nose was pressing against his neck.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you said, voice thick and rough from the tears and your injury. “Why’d you save me?”

He sat back from you ever so slightly, his hands taking you by the shoulders and guiding you back up so you were looking him in the eye. You wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“You might hate me but I never hated you,” he said, his eyes oddly soft and earnest. “Not once.”

“Joel,” you said quietly. His hand went from your shoulder to your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair. You were suddenly, acutely aware of how little distance there was between the two of you. It seemed like too much.

He slowly, cautiously moved closer to you, his eyes going from your own to your lips and back again but he stopped just short of kissing you. Like he was waiting for you to close the distance, asking your permission.

You gave it.

You pressed your mouth to his and it was delicate at first, your lips brushing his, feather light but electric. Then, Joel’s grip on you got stronger, his kiss growing firmer and more insistent, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you. You let out a little moan, an ache growing between your legs.

Joel released your face and his hands traveled to your waist and he adjusted as he pulled you closer so that your legs went around him and you were suddenly in his lap. You could feel his hard length through his jeans and you realized that he hadn’t been joking about knowing the size of the knife. You groaned a little, grinding your hips down against him, and Joel moaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down and around your back, fingers spread wide over you.

“You sure about this?” He asked, peppering kisses along your jawline between words.

“Yes,” you panted, needy. “I want you…”

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathed. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His mouth reached the damaged skin of your throat and he delicately kissed each bruise on your neck, his lips warm and soft. His fingers lightly traced your bruises.

“He still alive?” He pulled back from you enough to look up at you from your position on his lap. You draped your arms over his shoulders and nodded. He frowned. “Shoulda killed him for touchin’ you…”

“Not worth it,” you said, kissing him again, harder this time. His hands moved to your front, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke. “Promise you, you are.”

He nudged your arms down and slid your shirt off, pulling away from you to look down at your half naked body.

“Fuck, Honey,” he groaned, his large hands coming to your stomach and spreading warm and wide against you, moving over you, skimming over your skin with his rough fingers. He pulled you tight to him as his hands went for your bra clasp, unhooking it as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. He took it off, too, his hands finding your breasts, cradling them in his large palms, his thick thumbs brushing your nipples. “Jesus Christ, got no right lookin’ this fuckin’ good…”

He kissed over the swell of flesh before he found your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, licking the tip with his tongue, making you moan, your back arching into him. He did the same to your other breast, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your back like he couldn’t get you close enough. When he released you, he looked up at you, panting and desperate.

“Lemme take you to bed,” his hands slipped down your back to your hips, pulling you down firmly against his hard cock. “Need inside you…”

You just nodded quickly and his hands moved to your ass, holding onto you from below as he stood with you in his arms. You let out a little yelp as he did before he carried you down the hall to your bedroom.

He lay you down so gently on the bed it was almost shocking, kissing you deeply as he did. You fumbled with his shirt until it was unbuttoned and you could slide it off his broad shoulders and cast it aside. Joel moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and hooking his fingers around them and your panties, pulling them down your body together, crawling back and kissing down your body as he did.

“Oh Honey,” he said once your pants were on the floor and he was kneeling between your thighs. He was looking down at your dripping slit. He spread your legs a little wider, opening the core of you to his gaze, before he ran a single finger over your folds. He left it against your clit, giving it the gentlest pressure. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You achin’ for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” you were practically squirming below him, your whole body raw and needy, the heat in you burning. “Please Joel…”

“Gonna make you come first, Honey,” his finger started working in slow circles, the pressure growing. “Make sure you’re ready for me. Get this pussy so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He sank a thick finger inside you, moving his thumb to your clit, and he moaned as you whimpered at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” the hand not working your pussy went to your lower stomach, his fingers spread out wide against your skin. “Jesus Christ, you feel incredible, fuckin’ incredible and that’s just my finger, fuck…”

He worked you harder and you rocked your hips against him, your hands going to your breasts and holding them, squeezing them.

“Holy shit,” he moaned at the sight. “Fuck, need you to come Honey, need you to come for me so I can get inside you, come on baby.” He added another finger and hooked them up into the softest part of your core, making your breath catch in your throat. You started tightening around him, the heat in you growing. “There she is, can feel it, come on Honey, come all over my fingers, you can do it. Come for me, don’t make me beg for it, baby, need you too fuckin’ bad…”

You came, gasping his name when you did, your hold on your breasts relaxing as your whole body throbbed with your release.

“Fuck, there we go,” he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. “Doin’ so good coming on these fingers Honey, getting yourself all ready for my cock. Gonna take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

Your body went slack and he smiled and almost devilish smile, sliding his fingers from your body and sucking them clean before he opened his pants and took them off. He climbed between your legs, crawling up your pliant form, kissing a trail up your body until his lips were on yours and you could feel his thick length brushing your dripping core.

“What if I want you to?” You panted, your hands running over his bare back.

“Want me to what?” He asked.

“Beg for it.”

He smiled a little.

“Please Honey,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Please, let me inside you. I’m past fuckin’ want you, baby, I’m past needing you. I swear not havin’ you is gonna fuckin’ kill me. I will beg you all damn night if you want, I’ll beg you all damn year if it’ll make you give yourself to me.”

You laughed softly, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pulled him closer.

“Guess you should fuck me then,” you smiled before you kissed him.

He felt as desperate and needy as he sounded, his thick head catching on your entrance before he pushed into you in one long, firm stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, feeling every inch of his cock as he opened you to him, the tip of him finding a place inside you that you didn’t think anyone had reached before. You were so exquisitely full it was like your body had been holding space for him your whole life. It was something entirely new, so good you were almost happy the world ended just so you could find a feeling like this. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, wondering if he felt it too.

“Fuck,” he panted, holding himself within you as your body adjusted to taking him, his eyes searching yours. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never… fuck, Honey, I ain’t gonna last long, you feel too good, too goddamn good.”

“Joel,” you breathed. It was all you could think to say, every thought that wasn’t him gone from your head. Your pussy was already starting to tighten around him, just from the feel of his cock inside you. “Fuck, please…”

“You already about to come baby?” He asked as he started to move inside you, slow and heavy at first. You moaned and nodded quickly. He thrust into you, hard and firm. “Fuck, fuck, not gonna last when you come, can I come in you, need to come inside you, fuck Honey I need to come inside you.”

You just nodded again even though you weren’t on birth control and you sure as fuck didn’t know what was happening between the two of you outside of this bed and the fact that you knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. It couldn’t be, not when he felt this good, like he’d been made to fuck you and you’d been made to take him into yourself. You wanted him to leave part of himself inside you, plant it deep so you could feel him there all warm and wet tomorrow.

With your nod, he started fucking you - really fucking you. His cock was so deep when he pushed into you you could feel the thick weight of him pressing up against your skin, like you’d be able to see him inside your body if there was enough space between the two of you to look. He pulled back almost totally, leaving just his head inside your grasping hole before fucking back into you, every stroke hard and desperate and your nails sank into his back as your hips rose up to meet his on every thrust. You never wanted him to leave your body, wanted him to make a home deep inside you so you could always be this full, this complete. His body worked your clit and your pussy got tighter and tighter around him, your head swimming with the pressure of it all, your body so needy it felt like you might burst.

“Want to come with you,” you whimpered. “Please, come for me Joel, I’m so fucking close, want you to come deep inside me, please…”

“Fuck Honey,” his thrusts stuttered and he groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good, leave this pussy so fuckin’ full of me, fill you up again and again…”

He thrust deep, so deep it almost hurt and you felt him start to pulse inside you. Your hands went to his lower back, pressing him impossibly deeper and you cried out as you came around him, your channel milking his cock, throbbing around him until there was nothing left inside him to give to you.

He collapsed on you as you went limp below him and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he panted for breath. He stayed inside you as his cock softened and you could feel him leaking out of you.

“Holy shit,” he said eventually, kissing your throat and then your chin and then your lips. He kissed you deeper as he slid out of you and lap beside you. You hesitated for a moment but he reached over and pulled you on top of him, so your head was on his chest and your legs were nestled between his own. His cock was wet against your skin and you liked it, the reminder that he’d just been inside of you. “Fuck, Honey…”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. His hand went to your back, tracing up and down your spine.

“Still hate me?” You could hear Joel fucking Miller’s cocky smile on his voice.

“I will if you never fuck me again,” you kissed his chest.

He laughed.

“Don’t gotta worry about that. Even though you still found a way to be a brat during the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had.”

You smirked.

“Would it be the best sex you’ve ever had if I didn’t?”

“Guess not,” he said. “S’it OK if I stay the night? Think we got some shit to talk through but I ain’t got it in me to do it tonight.”

“If you insist,” you teased, pressing yourself a little tighter to him. He held you a little closer. “Night, asshole.”

You said it the way you’d say baby or love. You meant it that way, too.

He laughed a little.

“Night, Brat.”

His voice was soft, like it was when he called you honey. Something told you he meant it that way, too.

#joel miller x female reader #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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undead-supernova · 4 months

Text

HIGH TOLERANCE

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Masterlist

warnings: gay disasters, Steve (derogatory), a bit of angst but that's a given for pining best friend!eddie so enter at your own risk, weed consumption (but what's new in a series about weed consumption)

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader (both bisexual bitches)

plot: let's go sing some karaoke and feel like we're dying, shall we?

wc: 6k

p.s. I listened to "Watch" by Maisie Peters the entire time I wrote this and I just cannot for the life of me let The Good Witch go. Anyone else in a chokehold from that album? Anyways, here you go!

Part 2: "Live Resin"

“For you, my good sir!” you exclaimed, feigning a British accent as you got down on one knee and presented Eddie with a joint like it was a sword. And it was an immediate scrape to your knee, your black crop top and miniskirt riding up. You tried to save yourself by planting your maroon Converse on the ground, but it was met with instant failure. Eddie chuckled, grabbing your arm to try and stabilize you before he continued the bit.

(Leave it to Eddie Munson to commit to a bit.)

“For me?” he asked, feigning a gasp as he threw his hand over his chest, his rings clinking together. “You shouldn’t have.”

You exaggerated a wink as you stood back up.

“Sure, I did.”

“Wha’da we got, Weirdo?”

You repeated what the guy at Jailbait Hemp told you. It was a THC-A pre-roll that was covered in live resin (which technically has a higher concentration level than just the THC-A alone). It burned differently than other joints, a glaze lining the paper to burn like honey.

Let it in slow and watch it go.

“She sure is a pretty one,” Eddie said, lightly running the pad of his pointer finger along the resin. It didn’t flake off or leave any residue on his finger. Incredible.

You smirked. “I know, right?”

“Kinda like you.”

You swallowed immediately, nearly choking as the spit went down wherever the wrong pipe was located.

Panic, panic, panic.

“Oh, whatever,” you said, waving him away. You distracted yourself with wiping the gravel off of the scrape on your knee that showed promise of blood but stayed put. The most embarrassing thing you could think of was having to ask someone for a Band-aid because you were too busy doing a bit with a joint to remember that you weren’t wearing pants. Eddie would love that a little too much and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Eddie said with a nod, causing you to look back up. “Doesn’t come close to you, m’lady.” Without another word or time for you to even remotely process, he held out his hand and made obnoxious grabbing gestures. “Alright. Gimme, gimme. Wanna light her up.”

With shaky fingers, you handed it over. Eddie took his black Bic lighter and ran the flame back and forth against the twisted end of the paper. It took him two or three tries to keep it lit, but he finally got it, moving it around in circles to let it burn as evenly as it could. The air instantly thickened with the smell. But to be fair, you smelled weed wherever you went in Atlanta. Even on the highway somehow.

You could hear the music from Go Ask Mary from two blocks away, the bass of Madonna’s “Vogue” booming through the walls. It was almost time for karaoke to start and, to be honest, you were excited. Eddie had picked up some extra shifts at the car dealership and your shitty retail jobs at the Lenox Square mall had been draining. Especially when you were surrounded by stores like Chanel and Tiffany & Co. It was always your dream to work at a Sephora where all the pretentious rich people complained about needing a new Balenciaga bag before arguing with you when their sheer Tom Ford lipstick was out of stock.

This was the first time you’d seen Eddie in a week, despite him practically begging to come over at 2am to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie on a Monday. The extended edition to be exact, all three hours of Elijah Wood and Sean Astin being the most iconic couple of the fantasy realm. It was embarrassing to admit, but you nearly considered calling out just so you could.

Tonight, you couldn’t wait to let off some steam, especially with the person who made every day worth it. Eddie looked as he usually did with all his chains and rings and pretty face and attitude. It was disgustingly unfair that he could wear variations of the same outfit every time you saw him and somehow looked better and better every time.

“There you guys are,” Steve sighed as he and Robin walked over from the bar.

Steve was still in his suit, just without his tie and blazer. A few buttons of his white button down were popped with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robin wore an oversized cotton button down, white with navy stripes and a loose navy tie. She looked like she was going to the beach for the day, even going so far as to wear jean shorts and checkerboard Vans.

“We should’ve known you were smoking,” Robin said, nose wrinkling before she pulled out her flask from her back pocket and took a few sips. “Did you know that one joint is, like, the equivalent of five cigarettes? I heard it on a podcast the other day and, believe me, that sounds bad. Like, really bad.”

“What else is new?” you joked, taking the joint from Eddie and filling your lungs with a few hearty drags. “At least we’re not vaping. That’s, what, the equivalent of a hundred cigarettes?”

Robin shook her head. “Actually, I read that a thousand-puff vape is the equivalent of five to six packs.” She paused, moving her fingers through the air as she solved the problem in her head. “So…about one-twenty?”

Eddie hummed, nodding. “Aren’t you glad I stopped smoking cigs six months ago?”

“Well, yes.”

“So smoking weed should be the least of your worries, Buckley.”

“You have a point. But honestly—"

“Rob!” Steve interrupted. “Rob, listen. I have exciting news.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“I’m getting the first round,” he said proudly. “I got a bonus at work.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, genuinely touched by the offer. “That’s awesome, though. You’re literally moving up in the world.”

“Bringing in the big bucks, this one,” Eddie teased with a big smile as he took the joint from you. “Always a generous giver.”

Steve glared at Robin. “She thinks I should quit.”

“No, I do not!” Robin argued. “I just think you’re in a weird environment with weird men—"

The high was already making its way through you, causing you to not-so-subtly stare at Eddie again. His eyes were trained on yours as Steve and Robin rattled on, entering some bickering fest that you were positive he wasn’t listening to. And the way he was looking at you… Well, it didn’t seem that platonic, did it?

His eyes were doing that thing again, that slow gaze down your body before reaching back up to your eyes. Your fingers inched just a little bit closer to his and you almost swore you could hear his rings again as they fluttered towards yours.

Robin cleared her throat, causing you to look back at her. She was eyeing you specifically, not even bothering to look at Eddie.

Could she see it? What did she know? Was there anything to know?

“Well, we’ll be inside,” she said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “Have fun with the extra cancer!”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks, Buckley.”

You watched them walk away, right back in their little fight. It was nice to be around them again. Truly, it was. You didn’t have too many friends outside of Eddie, always working during the week and never truly finding time to go out unless Eddie dragged you along. You could engage in small talk with strangers at Go Ask Mary on the weekends, but it was different when you got home and found your phone void of anyone to tell those stories to. Zero messages, not even from your parents or your sister. No Instagram DMs of cute animals or Tumblr messages of photography and memes. Just a phone that looked more like a coffin full of wires than access to the whole world.

Except for Eddie.

As he turned back to you, he lifted the joint and let it hover just above your lips.

“Want some more?” he asked.

You looked up at him, nearly startled by how close he was to you. God, what was it about him? Maybe it was the dark color of his eyes, still illuminated in the warm sunset, nearly glazed over with a golden sheen. Maybe it was the way his hair was doing that thing after a fresh wash where the ends were slightly curlier than the rest. Or maybe it was the way his tips of his sneakers were meeting yours and the smell of tobacco and car air freshener was wafting off of him.

“Come on, you can’t deny you want it.”

“Um,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you felt his fingers grazing your mouth as he placed it in between your lips. You took a long, slow drag while your eyes never left his. You wanted to look away. Really, you did. If anything, the sparks settling in your stomach were starting to pop and sizzle unlike ever before.

You just couldn’t help yourself.

And if anything, he didn’t seem like he could either.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

The bar wasn’t very crowded, but that’s why you liked to go as a group during the week. Even if there weren’t many people looking to do karaoke on a Tuesday, it didn’t matter. There were four of you ready to tear up the fucking stage.

You went in rotation for solo performances, Robin singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac followed by you singing “Love Is a Stranger" by Eurythmics (despite it technically not being from the Eighties) followed by Eddie doing “The Stroke” by Billy Squire and finishing with Steve’s off-key rendition “Africa” by Toto.

When Steve returned from his noteworthy performance, the three of you congratulated him. He did a little bow before wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Eddie patted the table and said, “Alright, I’ll go get the next round.” As he was about to leave, he looked at you. “Still want a vodka Redbull?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile.

He gave you a quick wink. “Just checking, Weirdo.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back to Steve and Robin, watching Steve dab his face with a napkin. He was mostly definitely inching towards being drunk, always starting to turn red and sweaty whenever he was getting close. That, and he started to run his mouth.

“God, he’s dreamy,” Steve said, leaning his head in one hand. You followed his line of sight, all three of you watching Eddie walk to the bar. “It’s almost annoying how hot he is.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Anyone was allowed to find him hot. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of flattery, that’s all. But then it was like you couldn’t stop yourself and suddenly you were unable to keep yourself from asking the one thing you never ever should have.

“Do you have a crush on Eddie?”

You watched Steve laugh pitifully. “I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I mean, he’s hot, right? But I don’t know if he’d even go for me.” As he talked, he popped open another button of his shirt, showing off a bit of his wife beater and chest hair. “Like, okay, he’s just so pretty and he fixes cars and plays in a band? It’s cool as hell. But I don’t think we even have that much in common, so I don’t know. He likes metal, I like pop. He likes D&D and I like, uh, I don’t know? Poker? Anyways, I don’t even know what kind of guys he’s into. Do you know, Rob?”

Robin shrugged, meeting your eyes before saying, “I don’t know, Steve. Ever thought about asking him what his type is?”

And you shouldn’t have asked. Really, you shouldn’t. Because now you were here, sitting at a table while Steve moaned and groaned about his chances with Eddie, like it was some statistics problem. And then someone was doing an awful cover of “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, the shrill sound mixing with Steve’s whining. And you? You were sulking.

You looked over and watched Eddie wait for your drinks at the bar, wondering if Steve had any chance and whether you were more likely to get the guy in the end. Surely there was a silver lining in there somewhere. You enjoyed metal music and even convinced Eddie to listen to other genres. You enjoyed listening to Eddie talk about Dungeons and Dragons and showed him board games you liked, like Catan. Relationships weren’t built off of just similarities and differences. Steve was wrong.

Right?

As if Eddie heard your thoughts, he caught your stare, his lips pulling back into a large grin as he waved and moved his hips a little bit along to the grating karaoke. You couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward he looked, in turn doing the worst arm wave in history. He immediately started laughing.

Eddie was looking at you, wasn’t he? Steve wasn’t even bothering to look at the object of his desire. He merely talked about the guy, putting his head in his hands and panicking as if Eddie wasn’t in the same room. But you were looking at Eddie and now you were in a makeshift dance battle, embarrassing yourself by doing an awful robot while he did that shopping cart move.

Could Steve have this kind of relationship with Eddie?

And what were the odds of you winning?

What were the odds of you losing?

After a good bit of chatter, Steve and Robin headed towards the other end of the bar to set up a game of darts. Eddie went along, but you decided to stay behind. He found it odd, asking if you were sure and you’d nodded, telling him that you wanted a moment to yourself.

But Eddie didn’t believe you. Not one bit. You’d started acting weird merely seconds after he came back with drinks. It was strange. One moment you were dancing with him across the room and the next your shoulders were slumped, falling out of any and all conversation. Even when he nudged you and tried to be playful, you seemed to pretend you didn’t notice. Instead, you focused on your straw and nodding along as if you were paying attention.

He knew you hadn’t. He knew there was something wrong and, of course, he wanted to respect your privacy but there had to be something else there. Had Robin let anything slip? Did Steve act like an asshole? Were you upset with him?

Robin and Steve were in the heat of a tie when Eddie finally decided to walk back over to you. He didn’t like seeing you so sad, so vulnerable. And with the addition of the high, he knew how scary that could feel. If something didn’t feel right, it could get extremely uncomfortable. And you couldn’t just be alone in that hole.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You put on one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen before replying, “Yeah, I guess I’m just tired from work.”

Lie.

“Is the high getting you down?”

You shrugged. “A bit, yeah.”

“Um,” he said, gulping as he held out his palm. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

You looked down at his hand before looking back up.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure,” he replied, placing his hand on top of the other.

He squeezed it to elicit something resembling comfort for the rejection he felt. It was like your hand was some kind of phantom feeling that made his chest ache with want. And that want was slowly but surely starting to burn.

“Well, uh.” He gulped. “I’m gonna get myself another beer. Want anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Eddie nodded before turning away.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He didn’t think he’d ever spun back around that quickly before.

“Yeah?”

You smiled weakly. “If you need me to drive your van back tonight, let me know. I don’t mind if you want to get a little drunk with Steve and Robin.”

And just like that, he died a little inside. Again.

“Will do, Weirdo.”

Steve was back on his bullshit.

“Oh my god, do you guys think I should try to sing with him? Get the sparks flying, you know?” He moved his head from side to side. “‘Do a little dance? Make a little love’?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm. “You did not just do that.”

You let out a tiny sigh, looking away from his hopeful expression. Steve genuinely thought he’d cracked the code to Eddie’s heart. And you couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want someone like Eddie?

But really, you wanted to put your head on the table and bang it over and over.

Over. And. Over.

Eddie had gone to get a third beer and Steve had wasted no time before bringing this shit back up. You were seriously starting to dislike him for the first time in three years. Three. Years. He was obnoxious when he was drunk, sure, but it was never like this.

Or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention until tonight.

You shook your head, desperately trying to get the feelings out of your body. The blunt was starting to get the best of you, fogging your brain while your limbs felt like they were vibrating. This was killing your high. No, it was more than that. It was magnifying all the feelings you once swore to be dormant.

You looked over to find Robin staring at you, her eyebrow quirked up. Noticeably, you might add. You and Robin weren’t that close—you were one of Eddie’s best friends to the rest of them. You had fun whenever the group would hang out, whether that be at Eddie’s shows or unwinding at Go Ask Mary, but you never truly hung out alone.

Steve, Robin, and Eddie had moved to Atlanta three years ago, after they wanted out of their small town in Indiana. Steve’s dad had gotten him a job at a big boy law firm in the heart of Downtown. It wasn’t the best way to get into the business, but it was the best way to get all of them out. To start over somewhere bigger, somewhere with more opportunities. Steve convinced them to save up for the summer before driving eight hours to their shitty new apartment. He swung Robin a waitressing gig at a nice restaurant he had a business lunch at—charmed the owner and everything. Eddie had worked at a local gay bar in Decatur and played there sometimes on metal or punk themed nights.

And here Robin was now, staring at you like she was trying to figure out how you were feeling, as if you’d ever be phased by Steve’s confession. Confessions. And she was making eye contact, all bold and unashamed. Like she was some freakishly keen hawk, two steps away from letting out a ca-caw. And if Steve paid just a fraction, just a millimeter of attention, he’d notice.

It was all quite unnerving.

“Don’t you think sparks would already be flying after years of knowing each other?” Robin asked, eyes flickering from Steve’s to yours and then back again. “I mean, I think you would know by now. If there was something between you.” She gestured over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

What was her deal?

“Pfffft.”

A bit of Steve’s spit flew out and hit your cheek. You would’ve laughed three hours ago. Now? Now, you were seriously considering bashing his head against the table.

(It was a big night for head bashing.)

“Last call for karaoke!” one of the bartenders announced.

“Wish me luck!” Steve said to you and Robin before raising his hand. “I’ll do it!” he exclaimed loudly, pointing to Eddie who had just finished closing out his tab. “I’ll do it with that handsome man over there!”

Eddie looked surprised but shrugged, a pleasant smile reaching his lips. “Yeah, sure, Harrington. Show me what you got.”

As they moved towards the stage, you swallowed the words resting on your tongue.

I wanted to sing with Eddie tonight.

“I hope he doesn’t embarrass himself.”

You couldn’t look at Robin. You just couldn’t.

“What song did he pick?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“‘Under Pressure’.”

Oh, fuck. You’d sung that in the car with Eddie plenty of times, always with a silent acknowledgement that whatever conversation you were having would cease and the volume was to be turned all the way up. You went for Freddie Mercury's part while Eddie took the lower octaves in David Bowie’s verses. Eddie sounded amazing when he sang it, confident with his range and feeding emotion into the song. And you melted. You just melted.

And when the song started and Eddie’s eyes drifted away from Steve and landed on you, well, you couldn’t help but feel seen. He thought about those times, too, didn't he? It was something you both held special. Right?

But Steve took Eddie’s hand and started trying to dance with him. Eddie laughed, trying to follow his complicated rhythm. Steve was stumbling and nearly fell of the stage, but Eddie caught him, stabilizing him. Just like he’d done with you in the parking lot.

Things were going downhill for you. And they were going down fast.

Eddie cleared his throat dramatically before starting the first verse. “Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you. No man ask for.”

You let out a sigh at the sound of Eddie’s voice, all gravely and husky and soft all the same. It felt even better tonight with whatever was in this joint. You could feel it inside, like it was somehow spreading through you. There was a part of you that was sure you’d never get over it for as long as you lived.

Steve pulled Eddie closer, grabbing at his waist and slowly moving it down.

Oh my fucking god. Eddie knows what he’s doing, right? you asked yourself. Can he tell? Does he like this?

Eddie cleared his throat before belting, “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming—”

“Let me out!” Steve shouted.

They stumbled through a laugh at the ridiculousness, and you began to feel like you were slowly dying. Again.

“I’m…going to go to the bathroom,” Robin announced before scurrying off.

And you tried to keep your eyes off of them. Really, you did. You made yourself look around the room, scanning the face of a drag queen who was currently walking around and engaging in animated conversations with the few other people here. Her eyes were coated in pink glitter and tall eyelashes; nude lips perfectly lined and wrapped around the straw of a cocktail. She was absolutely gorgeous, as most Atlanta queens were. Plus, how could you ever look away from a drag queen? They were angels, truly. Archangels.

But it was Eddie’s singing that brought your attention back, as effortless as Bowie himself. Like there was nothing to it. Like he was always on the track to begin with.

You found yourself thinking about the night you met Eddie, right here in Go Ask Mary. It was the five-month anniversary of their official move to Atlanta, the three of them wanting to go out and celebrate not completely fucking up. They’d gotten out and they were doing pretty okay for themselves by the look of it.

And you? Well, you were a native to the south. Grew up in Tennessee, moved here when you saw the opportunity for college somewhere that wasn’t Tennessee. Found your way through college and realizing you were bisexual and, well, found Go Ask Mary. At the time, you came here with friends, but there was a period time after losing some of those friends where you preferred coming by yourself. It was an accepting atmosphere, one where everyone seemed friendly. You could have a six-minute conversation with a queer stranger and never speak again. But it would be fond and unforgettable. It would be transcendent.

You’d gone up and done a dramatic cover of “I Miss You” by Blink 182, mimicking the singer’s voice rather than being serious about it. A few people laughed—and Eddie was one of them. He’d even let out a few whoo!s and yeah!s. When you’d gotten off the stage, he approached you immediately and asked you if you could be best friends. You laughed at that, thinking then that neither of you were serious.

But then you’d spent the whole night talking and watching Robin and Steve perform.

And then they tapped out and decided to head home.

However, Eddie wanted to stay.

And you told him you could call him an Uber.

And then you stayed until closing, just talking. Nonstop. Like you were seeing an old friend for the first time in decades.

(Is there a joke in there somewhere about three disaster bisexuals and one tragic lesbian walking into a bar?)

“Is that your man?”

You looked behind you, noticing the queen from earlier standing with her hand on her hip as she tapped her acrylic nails along to the beat.

“Which one?” you asked.

“The crazy haired one over there with the wallet chain.”

You could feel your chest start to ache. “No, no. We’re best friends, but we’re not dating.” She let out a hum. You looked at her again, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Um, why? Why do you ask?”

A smirk formed on her lips as she touched your shoulder, leaning down to speak softly into your ear. “Baby, that man’s only looking at you.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure?”

The queen looked at you again, her eyebrow raising. “Oh, so you’re jealous of the other one?” She laughed as you gave a defeated shrug. “You ain’t been lookin’ hard, have you?”

“I’m not sure—"

“Honey,” she started, tapping your jaw. You looked back at her. “I know that look. But you ain’t gotta look hard to see what he feels for you.”

“Really?”

She patted the top of your head and stood up straight. “Girl, look harder. Oh, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

And then she was waving you a goodbye and walking away.

You looked back to the stage to watch Eddie. You didn’t know how to believe her. Couldn’t. He was right there, leaning in and sharing a microphone with Steve, their faces practically touching. Lopsided grins coming from the two as Eddie hit a high note perfectly and Steve butchered the harmony. Eddie’s voice was dark and angelic. Steve’s eyes were red and perhaps they were sparkling in the purple and blue neon lights. They were having fun.

They’d be a cute couple, a voice in your head said bitterly. And you can sit and watch and be okay with it. Swallow all your emotions like you always do. Let yourself fade into background noise as you watch someone take the spot you want the most. It’s normal at this point, isn’t it? You’re going to be that pathetic and weak, aren’t you?

You looked down at your drink, riddled with those incessant voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough. Because you weren’t as forward as Steve, or as brave as Eddie. You couldn’t just say the words or say anything at all. Eddie said everything he thought and made it clear how he felt. It was so simple for him.

Besides…where would the friendship go if Eddie rejected you? Would it remain firm, the foundation solidified enough to keep you where you were before? Or would it start moving away, returning less and less frequently before the inevitable crash?

And how could you ever fathom surviving the implosion?

Eddie began to belt the final chorus, leaving Steve in the dust while secretly trying to get your attention. Maybe he was trying to impress you with his strengthened vocals and (pathetically) wanted you to notice.

But you continued to look down at your drink, scowling and swirling your straw around. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why you were acting so strange tonight. It’d started out so well when he picked you up, letting the music be the only thing moving you forward. Even in the parking lot, with the jokes and a longing look that felt like it lasted for hours. And now you were…well. Whatever you were.

And the song ended, alongside the minimal applause and stage lights being turned off.

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder as they got off. Eddie nodded at him before turning towards your table.

But Steve pulled at his forearm.

“Munson, wait.”

Eddie looked back. “Yeah, dude. What’s up?”

Steve smiled and Eddie could tell that he was utterly drunk. It was one of Steve’s goofy smiles, always seeming cartoonish with the way his lips curved into a wave. Eddie always thought it was kinda weird how he did that. Even a little creepy.

“Listen, I’m just gonna come out and ask you a question.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed, now facing Steve completely.

“Would you ever want to go on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, scanning Steve’s face to try and see if any of this was a joke.

But there was no punchline. He was serious.

“Like, together?” he asked slowly.

Steve laughed, having to lean on a nearby table to stable himself. “Yeah! I don’t know, I just kinda thought we had some chemistry or something. I’m drunk so I can’t articulate it very well, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

Eddie raised a hand to scratch along his stubble and thought about it. Had he really not noticed that Steve was into him? He thought he’d made it clear to Robin his affections for you. He’d just assumed she would tell Steve but, clearly, she hadn’t.

It was all Eddie ever talked about when him and Robin were alone, holed up in Eddie’s bedroom with a couple of beers and When Harry Met Sally playing on his TV. She told him over and over how he should just say something to you or even drop hints here and there. And to be fair, he thought he had. Even tonight with the joint in your mouth and the comment about it not being as pretty as you. And you’d just waved it off. Acted like it was nothing. Moved on so quickly and so suddenly.

But.

Well.

Was there such harm in saying yes to Steve? You certainly hadn’t said anything and maybe it would be good for him to explore something with someone who he knew for sure wanted him. It could be simple with him. Steve was fun to be around. He could be happy with him if it went anywhere. Because it could go somewhere…

Right?

He stared at Steve for some time before he responded.

You tried to leave with Robin and Steve, but Eddie pulled you towards his van instead. That meant two blocks of walking together and he didn’t waste any time before he started talking.

“Where are you going, Weirdo?” he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a side-hug. “You know you live closer to me.”

He was right. After Eddie had snagged his current job as a mechanic at a nice dealership, he’d gotten his own place so that he could have a space for himself. He really liked his alone time as much as he liked being around you or any of his other friends. One of the main reasons was because he needed complete silence when planning his campaigns and, well, Robin and Steve weren’t necessarily quiet people.

You chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m crossed or something,” you replied. “You’ve always had a higher tolerance than me.”

Eddie gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

You nodded and tried to keep walking.

But he didn’t.

“You’re not holding my hand right now.”

His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it tonight.”

Or you’re not actually cross-faded, Eddie thought to himself. But he didn’t say anything, just bumped your shoulder with his and tried to bring the energy back. You hadn’t smiled since you’d all left and there was no way you’d leave tonight without one. So, he turned around and started walking backwards, shimmying his shoulders. He cracked the code, watching as you began to snort. Thank God.

“So, did you like my killer vocals?” he asked, his playful tone raising the energy back to its rightful place.

Until your smile faltered.

“Ohhhhhh, yeah,” you said, hardly sounding sarcastic or playful. And it certainly didn’t meet your eyes. “You and Steve looked like you were having fun.”

Eddie hesitated, wanting to tell you about Steve’s…proposition. Should he casually drop it into the conversation? Would tonight be the night that he admitted how he felt? Or would he continue to rely on you doing it?

“He asked me out,” Eddie said before he could think further, heart racing.

“What?”

“Yeah, right after we got offstage. Crazy, right?”

“What did you say?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You were only across the street from his van now. Only twenty steps.

But you’d stopped.

So, Eddie did too.

“I told him I’d think about it,” he replied.

“And have you? Thought about it?”

He tried to read your expression, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So, he pushed.

“I don’t know. Hadn’t thought of it before he said anything. I mean, it’s kinda out of nowhere…”

“Do you like him?” you whispered.

Eddie thought about lying, to try and elicit some form of jealousy from you so he could start the conversation. Gamble and see what happens. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It wouldn’t be right. It’d just be shitty.

“Not really. Like, Steve’s pretty and all and he’s a really good friend or whatever. But I just haven’t really thought much about it and then suddenly there he was, poof, asking me out. And, I don’t know, I just thought it was a bit weird.”

You nodded along, looking away. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I should say yes?”

“You’re asking me?” you asked, your eyebrows pinching together.

You looked…upset. Why did you look so upset at the question?

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding.

“Why do you want my opinion? I mean, you’ve known him longer.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I value your opinion or whatever.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think I should be the determining factor on who you should date.”

You have no fucking clue.

“And if I wanted you to be?”

The words left his lips before he could save himself and, God, his heart was banging on his flesh, like it was trying to escape. Like it wasn’t able to handle it any more in his wired brain.

You hesitated again.

“Well, I don’t know.” Before Eddie could ask again, you sighed. “Do what you want, Eddie. Just…be careful.”

He shut his mouth again and nodded.

“Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Eddie spent that night analyzing your hesitation. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe you were thinking about how stupid he was or, even worse, maybe you were just too scared to say anything. Like him.

Your lips had quivered slightly. You were holding back those words again, the ones that felt like they’d already been shared and were waved off by the time you spoke again. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

And instead of asking you, he texted Steve.

About that date… When and where?

Taglist: @mrsjellymunson

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader #bisexual!Eddie x reader #bisexual!reader

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brinabees · 9 months

Text

Wild and Eager

4.7k of dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader. 18+

Summary: You’ve had a thing for your dad’s smuggling partner for years, despite (or maybe because of) his fearsome reputation. A deal gone wrong strands Joel at your apartment after curfew. Will this finally give you a chance to push the boundaries with your dad’s closest friend?

Set pre-show/game in the Boston QZ, Tess doesn’t exist, sorry Tess I love you.

Content: 18+, unsafe sex, too many pet names, age difference

Notes: This is my first real go at fanfic, so be gentle with me! I also can’t be arsed to proofread, so sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Fucked. That’s what you were. Totally, irredeemably fucked. Why? Well, it’s all because of Joel Miller. Your dad’s favorite “business associate” (read: smuggling partner) and the most devastatingly sexy guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. He and your dad have similarly unsavory pasts, so when Joel first arrived at the Boston QZ he fit right in with him and his smuggler buddies. Most of the other guys your dad works with always give you the creeps, but not Joel, with his unruly, dark curls and surprisingly soft, brown eyes. No, Joel did not give you the creeps, despite what little you knew of his tumultuous past. As far as you’d gathered, he’d survived as a raider, killing indiscriminately and taking whatever he needed. Your dad had tried to shelter you from the worst of his own misdeeds, but you knew the truth. Your dad and his cohort were all the same, all comfortable taking any life that got in their way.

That’s why you typically kept your distance from anyone who worked with your dad, a distance your father was only too happy to enforce, always wanting to protect you. But, as soon as Joel came into the picture, you couldn’t help yourself. Suddenly, you’d linger outside closed doors when they were having important “business meetings,” hoping to catch the sound of Joel’s deep voice. He seemed to be a man of few words, but when he did speak, no one else dared interrupt or challenge him. You lived for those moments, when the whole room went quiet and you could take in the sound of him. When your dad and his buddies would hang out in the kitchen afterwards, drinking home-brewed beer and sharing stories of past triumphs, you found reasons to join them. Of course, your dad never liked you hanging around these men, and usually he ushered you out as soon as you’d gotten the glass of water you didn’t really need or the canned food you weren’t actually hungry for.

And so it went. Anytime Joel was over at your shitty QZ apartment, your world suddenly revolved around him. Catching glimpses of him, listening to him talk, finding any reason you could to be near him just for a little while. As far as you could tell, your infatuation wasn’t returned. Joel rarely spoke directly to you or even acknowledged your existence. Whenever you tried to catch his eye, he always found something else to look at. You figured he probably didn’t think twice about his partner’s young, sheltered daughter.

So there you were. Totally infatuated and totally fucked.

All that changed one night, when your dad and Joel burst into the apartment mere minutes before curfew. They both looked like they’d been through some serious shit, their clothes torn and their skin bruised.

“What the hell happened to you two?” you asked.

“Deal went bad, don’t worry about it honey.” Your dad’s shutdown was as swift and final as always, and you knew you wouldn’t get anymore details from him about what really went down.

Your dad turned to Joel and clapped him on the back, thanking him for presumably saving his ass.

“Joel, it’s past curfew and with our luck today, I think trying to sneak past FEDRA maybe isn’t the smartest move. You can crash on our couch tonight,” your dad offered.

It was like a dream come true! Joel fucking Miller, in your apartment for a whole night. You felt giddy.

Your dad and Joel took turns cleaning themselves up in your single, cramped bathroom, before you all sat down to eat. Rations distribution hadn’t been kind that week, so all you had were a can each of baked beans and sliced peaches. Hardly a culinary match made in heaven, but it was all you had. The three of you ate in silence, all too preoccupied to hold a conversation. The two of them were likely thinking of their deal gone wrong, but you had other things on your mind. Well, other thing. All you could think of was Joel. How close he was sitting next to you at the small, round kitchen table, his knees nearly bumping yours. How he commanded the room with his presence even while not saying a thing. How he was covered in bruises and had a small cut on his left cheek, wounds you wanted so desperately to soothe. How he smelled, like leather and sweat and smoke. You wanted to bottle that smell and spray it on your pillow every night.

After you all finished eating, your father announced he was turning in early after his rough day and went to his bedroom. That left you and Joel alone. You’d never been alone with him before, and it practically made you gasp. You stood awkwardly from your seat at the table and then, feeling bold, brushed your hand over Joel’s shoulders as you passed him. A quick touch, easily dismissed as accidental, and yet, Joel’s hand immediately shot up and grabbed you roughly by the wrist. For a second, you both just stared at each other, the most eye contact you two had ever made. You felt a throbbing between your legs, induced purely by this one act.

But, then Joel moved your hand off his shoulder and dropped it at your side. The loss of contact made you want to cry. You’d been too forward, touching him without preamble or permission, and now you’d gone and made it awkward for the both of you. You practically ran out of the kitchen to your room, where you grabbed an extra pillow and a spare blanket for Joel to use.

“Here, you can use these, hopefully the couch isn’t too uncomfortable for you,” you said as you laid everything out on the couch. He grunted in what you assumed was thanks, and you turned around and went back to your room to get ready for bed. You didn’t know what was going on with you tonight, but even after the complete failure of the shoulder graze, you still felt driven to take advantage of this rare time alone with Joel. So, rather than dressing in your usual, frumpy flannel pajamas, you put on a baggy t-shirt and your sexiest pair of underwear. They were just plain black, but sexy was a relative term when you’re trying to find underwear in the apocalypse. You took a check look in the mirror, noting how the shirt was just a little bit too short to cover your whole ass cheeks. Perfect.

You left your room and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth, making sure to saunter right past where Joel was now sitting quietly on the couch. After you were finished, you asked him if he needed anything else before you went to bed.

For a long time he didn’t say a word, and you were about to turn on your heel and go right to bed, accepting that your meager attempt at seduction hadn’t done the job, when he finally spoke.

“I can’t have what I really need.”

Well, that stopped you in your tracks. What the hell did that mean? When he didn’t say anything more, you gathered your courage and asked, “and what is it that you really need?”

Joel stood, took one glance at your dad’s closed bedroom door, and walked over to you, stalking like a big cat hunting its prey. He crowded your space and then some, forcing you to step back until you felt your back hit the wall. You’d never been this close to him. His scent nearly overwhelmed you, and your breaths were coming in quick, sharp gasps.

“What do I need? I need for my partner’s daughter to stop staring at me all the time.” Your heart fell. “I need her to stop trying to touch me. I need her to stop walking around in nothing but her panties like a slut.” At that, you gasped.

“But most of all, I need this girl, but I can’t have her” he said, stepping closer, so close that your chest was touching his. Your heart stopped. Surely he wasn’t really saying he needed you, that was ridiculous. But the hard press of his erection against your lower stomach told a different story.

You stayed that way for a while, chests rising and falling as you both breathed each other in. Finally you gathered enough courage to respond, “why can’t you have her? She’s right here for the taking.” He released a rough groan.

“You know why baby girl. Can’t be messing around with my partner’s innocent little daughter.”

“One second I’m a slut, now I’m innocent, make up your mind.”

“You’re an innocent, acting like a slut to try and get what you want.”

“What we both want,” you argued.

“Your dad would kill me. Rip my guts out and string them up as decoration.”

“So, you’re scared?” At that he growled. Good, you were getting him riled up, just like you wanted.

“Baby, I’m not scared of anyone, including your old man. I just can’t go messing up my business for a quick lay.”

“Oh, so it’d be quick? How disappointing.” Another growl left his lips. He raised his arms, putting his hands on the wall on either side of your trembling body.

“You better stop teasing me little girl”

“Or what, you’ll punish me?” This was going better than you could have dreamed.

And then he slapped you. Right across the cheek, which now burned in his wake. As you recovered from the shock of it, you noticed Joel staring at your father’s door, as if he could will him to sleep through the noise. When no light turned on, no door opened, you could see him breathe a sigh of relief before turning his gaze back to you.

“See what you made me do? Almost made me wake your dad and have him catch us like this. Doubt I’d get a word out before he ripped me off you.” You didn’t disagree, your dad was exactly that protective.

“Go to bed, baby girl,” he said, almost softly. But you shook your head at him.

“What about what I need?” You’re all I can think about some days, Joel.” You figured it was time to lay it all on the line. “I ache for you. Want you so bad it drives me crazy.”

He groaned audibly, before tipping his head down and resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re really that obsessed with me, huh?” His tone is bordering on mocking. But you had no more shame, nodding your head in affirmation immediately. “Bet you’re up late every night, stuffing those pretty little fingers into your cunt, wishing they were mine. Wishing they were my cock.” You nodded again, blushing.

“Want you so bad, ever since the first time I saw you,” you said breathily. You could see him raise his brows. You were barely 18 when he first came to the QZ.

“Naughty little girl, lusting after your dad’s friend for so long. Tell me, sweet thing, are you a virgin? Have you been saving yourself for this dick?”

You hadn’t. You’d had a one night stand with a childhood friend from just before the outbreak, who you happened to cross paths with after the world had already ended and you’d both grown into curious teens. You both seized the rare chance at some intimacy in this messed up world. But, would Joel be mad?

“No... I did it once, with a friend. I’m sorry Joel.” Your words were almost whispered, treading lightly with this beast of a man.

But his face softened a little at the sound of his name on your lips, and Joel brought his hand to your cheek almost gently.

“No, pretty girl, don’t apologize. I’m not mad. Just means I gotta work a little harder to make sure you forget him,” he said with a smirk. You thought it wouldn’t actually take very much work for you to forget your single stumbling night in the dark... Not when Joel was like this, so hungry, so possessive. It made your core ache with need to see him so unleashed. He hadn’t even kissed you yet and he already had you panting with his words alone. “I like it when you say my name,” he whispered directly into your ear. His intentions of restraint were nearly forgotten in the depths of his need for you.

“Joel. Can you kiss me already?”

“I make the demands here, not you, baby girl. Don’t make me punish you, we can’t afford to wake your dad now, can we?” he said, throwing a glance at the still closed bedroom door. You nodded your head no. “Gotta have some privacy to do that,” he said with a wicked grin. You dearly hoped he’d let you find out what kind of punishment he had in mind for you. As much as you wanted to push his buttons, this really wasn’t the time for that kind of fun, so you resolved to let him lead.

“I’m sorry Joel. I’ve just spent so long waiting for this.”

“I know, I know.” His hands landed on your hips and skimmed their way up your sides. You shivered at the gentle touch from such a rough man. His hands fell back to your hips and suddenly he was gripping you tightly, so tight you thought you might find bruises the next day. It was only a fraction of his true strength, you knew, and the thought of that made you so wet. Between his dirty words and his captivating hands, you knew you had likely soaked your underwear.

And then, finally, finally, he was kissing you. His lips came down on yours with a bruising intensity, as he brought one hand up to cup the back of your neck. You released a moan at finally getting what you wanted, no, needed, so badly. Joel fucking Miller was kissing you. And he was kissing you well, slipping his tongue between your lips and tangling it with yours. You felt emboldened enough to slip your hands around his waist, sliding one down to grab at his ass. He grunted in surprised approval.

Suddenly, he pulled his lips from yours and grabbed you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to climb into his lap, and like a good girl you proceeded to straddle him. You could feel his hardness pressed right against your core and you were dying for more. No one had ever made you feel like this. You ground your hips down into his, drawing moans from you both. One of Joel’s hands on your hip guides you to press even harder into him, while the other reaches up to toy with your breast. He cups his hand around it and squeezes gently, before bringing two fingers to pinch at your nipple through your shirt. You gasp in pleasure at the slight pain.

Feeling wild and eager to please, you brought your own hands down to the hem of your shirt, knocking his hands aside so you could pull it off over your head. You knew it was a stupid risk, that your dad could wake up and come outside at any moment, catching you straddling his best friend in nothing but your panties. You almost thought Joel would chastise you for taking the lead again, but he was too busy staring at the bounty of your tits revealed right in front of his face. That look alone made it worth the risk of getting caught.

He nuzzled his face between your breasts, inhaling deeply through his nose. You gazed down at him in awe, still half unbelieving that this was really happening. He turned his head from side to side, his nose and lips touching each breast in turn, a sort of gentle motorboat. He seemed to luxuriate in the scent and feel of you, finally getting to revel in this forbidden fruit. He’d noticed you right away when he first came to the QZ, the shy but mischievous daughter of his new smuggling partner. Noticed you, and promptly filed you away in his mind as “untouchable.”

Well, he was certainly touching you now. His hands roamed across your back and then down to grip your ass, while his mouth began leaving open mouthed kisses on your sternum.

He pulled away just long enough to say, “Lemme see how bad you need me, pretty girl,” and then his lips were at your nipple and his fingers fell to the top of your panties. Sucking and biting at your sensitive nub, he simultaneously slipped his hand into the waistband of your underwear and down to your dripping pussy. He gathered the moisture there with his fingers, before taking them out and bringing them to his mouth. He slipped two fingers into his mouth and tasted your essence, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Fuck, you taste so damned sweet. If we had the time and the privacy, I’d lay you down and eat you out like a feast, really make ya scream.”

“Joel, please,” you begged breathlessly. “I need you so bad.”

“Aw, does my sweet baby girl need her cunt stuffed full of my dick? Is she really just a cock hungry little whore?”

Your already inflamed cheeks flushed even redder at his words, but you nodded your head, too far gone to care about anything as silly as dignity. You had wanted this man for years and now finally you were going to fuck him. Who needs dignity when you’ve got dreams coming true right in front of you?

“Get up, darlin’, and take off those panties for me”

You practically leaped off his lap with eagerness and immediately slipped off your panties. You dangled them loosely from one hand, putting the other on your hip as you watched Joel take his time. He leisurely unbuckled his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, slipping them down low just low enough to allow him to free himself from his briefs. Your mouth hangs open at the sight of him, long and impressively thick, with a pronounced head even wider than the shaft, a slick of precum already trickling out. You were by no means an expert, but you pretty much thought Joel Miller’s dick was fucking perfect. You were so busy staring, you barely noticed when Joel reached forward and snatched your panties right out of your hand, before bringing them up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He groaned at the scent of you and then dropped your panties to the couch in favor of grabbing you by the hips and bringing you back down to straddle him, skin to skin.

You could feel the hard length of him nestled right against your pussy, lightly nudging your clit in a way that made you want to fall apart for him already. You rose up to allow him access to your entrance, but Joel quickly pulled you back down, muttering, “Not yet, baby girl, gotta get you ready for me first.”

“I’m ready now, Joel, please,” you whined. But he just gave you a dismissing look and directed your hips back far enough to give him access to your dripping cunt. Without preamble he inserted one finger deep inside you, making you moan. “More, I need more Joel.” Not one to disappoint, he added another finger, pumping both in and out of you at a steady pace, curling them towards your g-spot. Your head fell to his shoulder as you writhed in pleasure, and Joel’s lips found your neck, suckling lightly. “No marks, Joel, my dad’ll see,” you managed to get out while his fingers continued driving you towards oblivion.

“Gotta mark what’s mine, baby. But fine, I’ll just have to mark you somewhere a little more private.” With that, his lips made their way to the underside of one of your breasts, sucking harder and nibbling lightly with his teeth. “I’m the only one who gets to see you here, got it? You’re mine now.” You nodded fervently, tipping your head back to look him in the eye once more. “My best friend’s daughter, all mine, practically begging for my cock.”

“Give it to me Joel, I’m ready, I need it.” His fingers pumped more furiously in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby, is that right? You ready for me?”

“Yes, yes, god, please!” you begged, louder than you should have given your dad was sleeping only a door away.

Suddenly he was wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over, crushing you into the couch cushions with the weight of his body. Then he sat back, admiration in his eyes as he gazed down at you. He fisted his dick with one hand and began to rub the head up and down your wet slit. Everytime he grazed your clit, your entire body seemed to jolt with pleasure.

“Joel, I swear to god if you don’t put it in right now I’m going to tell dad you were fucking with his little girl.” You’d had enough of his teasing.

“What did I say about giving me orders? Naughty little thing, I really will have to punish you next time.”

“Next time? How’s about you get the first time going before you start worrying about that,” you let out with a giggle.

“Fine, little minx, I’ll give you what you need so badly.” And then he was notching himself at your entrance before pushing in completely in a single, rough thrust. You felt so utterly full.

“Fuck, Joel, your cock is so good...” You were babbling nearly incoherently by then. When he began thrusting in long, deep strokes, you could feel the head of his cock drag across the most delicious spot inside of you, over and over. You could feel yourself building towards climax already.

“Tell me, did that boy make you come?” Joel asked as if he already knew the answer.

“No, no, I’ll only come for you Joel, it’s always been you.”

Joel picked up the pace, slamming into you rough and fast with every thrust of his hips. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, all worries about waking your sleeping father forgotten. Still inside you, Joel sat back on his knees and reached his hands around to cup your ass, lifting it into the air so he could piston his hips into yours even faster.

“This ass is all mine, pretty girl,” he said as he kneaded your cheeks with his hands. “Wanna see my girl come for me, but only when I say so.” He took one hand off your ass in favor of stroking his fingers across your clit, rubbing little circles. You could feel your peak approaching, but held yourself back from falling over the edge. You wanted to be good for him.

“Joel, please, I’m so close.” Your words came out in a soft whimper.

“Alright baby girl, come all over this cock.” His words were all you needed, and suddenly you were freefalling into an ocean of pure pleasure. This put any climax you’d ever given yourself to shame. Joel just kept fucking you through it, still stroking your clit as you fell apart around him.

You came back to yourself slowly while Joel continued to hold you up and fuck you like a rag doll. You could tell he was no longer concerned with your pleasure, fucking you just like he wanted regardless of your oversensitized pussy. It turned you on, to see him so lost to his own desires; a predator gone feral.

“Come inside me, please Joel I need you to fill me up.” You weren’t quite sure where that reckless desire came from. You knew you’d regret it in the morning, but at that moment you were too lost to pleasure to care.

“Fuck, filthy girl, you know I shouldn’t.” But you couldn’t stop begging for it, desperate to feel the hot rush of his seed spilling inside you. “Just this once, wild girl,” he grunted out. He couldn’t deny the thought of coming deep inside you turned him on to no end.

His thrusts began to lose their consistent rhythm, though they remained rough and deep. With a last guttural moan, he thrust in once, twice, three more times and then you could feel the warm rush of his cum inside of you. It felt so right, even though it was a stupid risk, even though it was your dad’s off-limits friend.

Joel shuddered one last time before letting go of you, your ass hitting the couch as his softening cock slipped out of you. He gazed down at your used pussy, a devilish grin crossing his face as he watched a trickle of his cum leak out of you. Not wanting any to go to waste, you brought your hand down to your cunt and swiped through the mess you found there. After scooping up some cum, you brought your fingers up to your mouth and licked them clean, making a show of it.

“Fuck me, you perfect, naughty little thing,” Joel muttered almost to himself. As you both came down from the high of your lovemaking, you remembered where you were and both glanced in panic at your dad’s bedroom door. Thankfully, there were no signs of his waking, and you silently thanked the universe that he was such a heavy sleeper. Joel tucked his cock back into his briefs, pulling his jeans back up around his hips.

As you both sat side by side on the couch, Joel rested his head in his hands and whispered, “Fuck, we should not have done that.” That had your head snapping up instantly. He regretted the best sexual experience of your life?

“What happened to there being a next time?” you said timidly, trying to hold in your emotions which would surely only scare him away. But you felt like he was ripping your heart out of your chest.

“That was just dirty talk, darlin’, you’ve gotta forget about this. This, us, can’t happen again.”

“Why not?” You could hear the desperation creeping into your voice but were powerless to hold it in.

“You know why baby girl, can’t go fucking my partner’s innocent little daughter, let alone knocking her up.” You knew you were stupid for thinking it, but you’d really hoped he might see you as something more than just his friend’s daughter. But there it was. All you were to him was a quick forbidden fuck, never to be revisited.

“Fine,” you said, glancing down at your still naked body. Suddenly you were cold, the Boston chill seeping back into your bones. You picked your shirt up off the floor and tugged it over your head before standing and searching the couch for your panties. “Where the fuck did my underwear go? The least you can do is help me look for them. If dad finds them he’ll have some fucking questions.” But Joel just shrugged his shoulders, glancing around half-heartedly.

You knew you were about 5 seconds from breaking down and you didn’t want him to see you cry, so you gave up looking for your underwear and stormed off to your bedroom, shutting the door and climbing into bed. As hot tears began to flow from your eyes, you realized you could still feel his cum dripping out of you.

______________________________________________________________

Back in the living room, Joel still sat on the couch, thinking about what the fuck he’s just done. He fucked his best friend’s little girl. Fucked her hard. Came inside of her. And fucking loved every forbidden second of it. Jesus christ he was so fucked. Despite his harsh dismissal of you, his own resolve was crumbling as fast as it had when he’d seen you in nothing but that shirt and those panties. Those panties that he now slipped out of his pocket and brought to his nose once more, inhaling your musk.

Yeah, he was fucked.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dbf!joel #brinabees fic

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obxsummer · 1 year

Text

Love Me or Leave Me // JJ Maybank

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers for s3 ep9

part of #obx3celebration

navigation

request: - hi babe! could i request jj × carrera!reader where they kinda have that hate/love situation and instead of kiara is reader who is send it to Kitty Hawk and JJ go save her? with the prompt "why wouldn't i save you?"

warnings: angst hehehe, shitty parenting, mental illnesses, forced kidnapping bc the carrera parents suck :)

For as long as you could remember, JJ Maybank hated you.

That might be a little harsh, but it felt true. The two of you bickered like none other, your friends constantly over your short tempers and constant arguments. You weren’t sure why the two of you couldn’t just get along like everyone else, but you definitely weren’t gonna be the first one to make amends for something that wasn’t your fault.

Kiara, on the other hand, would rip you a new one every time you and JJ got into it. You got it, he was one of her best friends and she hated to see the two of you arguing nonstop, but you weren’t gonna just quit so she could have her way. You and JJ had said some nasty shit to each other over the years and never once did she jump down his throat to get him to stop. So, you’d just continue this pattern until something changed.

The Chateau burning down was not on your bingo board of events to survive, but here you were. Thankfully, everyone had managed to get out safely before the whole structure collapsed in on itself.

“Could’ve been a faulty electrical wire.”

“Place was all wood. A tinderbox.”

“Thing just went up. Boom.”

You sat silently as everyone tried to think of an explanation for the cause of the fire to break the silence. You weren’t really sure what to say, especially to John B who just stared at the remains of his house sadly.

“Verdict’s in bro. Whoever’s up there does not like you.”

You scoffed at JJ’s words and gave him a sharp glare. “You’re really not helping, dude.”

JJ rolled his eyes at your need to chastise him. “You got something better to say, princess?” His fingers ripped at the grass below him before he chucked a glass beer bottle into the smoldering flames.

“Enough,” Kiara’s whisper was harshly directed at you as she sat on your other side. You bit the sassy remark she surely deserved and got to your feet to stomp down the path to the dock since there was nothing left to say here.

You pulled yourself onto one of the wooden railings and put your back to the group, taking the moment to soak in the breeze and rumble of thunder somewhere beyond. You loved the Pogues deeply, considering them family above all else. It felt silly to think you were the odd man out, but it felt like that more than you’d like to admit. Maybe they only had room for JJ’s antics and having two of you was more than they could handle. You tried to let it go, not think so deeply on it, because at the end of the day, they were all you had.

“Can you quit picking fights with him?” Your sister’s voice interrupted your moment of peace. You knew she’d come down here sooner or later, always having to repremand you for your actions.

“Can you bitch at him for once instead?” You snarked back, refusing to look at her and instead keeping your gaze on the storm clouds rolling in.

Kie sighed and moved to sit next to you. At the end of the day, you were still her sister, no matter how much you drove her crazy. It’s not like either of you had the best guidance either. “I’m not trying to bitch at you, but you guys are both important to me and it’s hard to listen to you argue so much.”

You shook your head slightly and kept quiet. There was no use in trying to convince her of anything else, of maybe it being someone else’s fault for a change. You were exhausted of this constant strong exterior you held, but you refused to let it break now.

Kiara realized you weren’t going to talk and turned back around to where the rest of the Pogues were walking towards the two of you. Regardless of how you felt towards JJ, it all needed to be put aside so your group could focus on getting to South America to save Big John.

“Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?” John B’s voice came from behind you as you realized they were all under the cover of the dock near you.

“Probably like an hour?” Sarah guessed as she took a seat on the bench next to you. “I mean, once he’s here, my dad says we can leave whenever we want.”

“Okay, well, as much as I would love to ghost my parents again, I can’t.”

You could practically hear JJ’s inevitable protesting before it came. “Pope, we’re talking El Dorado here. Can you just slip out the back maybe?”

“I’m not doing that, okay?” Pope replied. You could hear his feet connect with the wood as he climbed down from his spot. “I’ll meet you at the airstrip in an hour?”

“One hour, Pope. Not a second later.”

Cleo’s voice faded out with Pope’s, leaving you to assume they left. If you had to guess, you and Kie should probably do the same. Your parents would flip their shit if you left unannounced again.

“I guess I’ll go pack some stuff and break the news to my parents.”

You turned at Kie’s plan and finally faced the remainder of the group. “I got it. They’re less likely to say no if just one of us goes to tell them. I’ll go.”

“Y/N, I’ll come with-”

“Nah, Kie. She said she’s got it. Let her go.” Your sister’s protests were cut off by none other than JJ, unsurprisingly. He was staring right back at you, probably hating the fact that you were coming in the first place. “I’m serious, Y/N. One hour or we’re leaving without you.”

You hopped down, ignoring Kiara’s concerned face as you gave JJ a brief glance. “Yeah, got it.”

There was a tone of defeat in your voice that made JJ’s heart clench. He knew he was tough on you, worse than he should’ve been. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he was like that. It’s just always felt like that’s how your relationship was supposed to be, but watching you walk away, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

The walk to your house passed in a blur of overthinking. You knew your parents weren’t going to say yes and this was going to be a disaster that you’d have to sneak out of. You’d do it for John B though, as long as it meant getting his dad back.

You paused at the edge of the driveway to take in your house, debating what the hell you were going to say, as a car pulled up behind you. Usually, you wouldn’t think much of it, except the man who climbed out looked a little too comfortable with approaching you.

“Hey, Y/N. Hey, come back,” He called out as you started walking up the stairs to the door of your house. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

You almost laughed at the statement. Out of all the things you could say when approaching someone, that was probably the most suspicious. “Uh, no thanks.” You stepped a little faster across the porch, mumbling about stranger danger under your breath before grabbing the door handle. The nerves kicked in when you realized it was locked. You started knocking aggressively. “Hey. Dad!”

The door clicked unlocked to reveal another man you didn’t know. You took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Look, this can go one of two ways.”

You glanced at his shirt, the logo on it sending you into panic mode as you realized what was happening. “No, no, no.” The next step back sent you into the first man’s chest, his hands quickly grabbing you.

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re sending you away for a while.” Your mom’s figure appeared in the doorway, your dad hovering behind her. “They say that Kitty Hawk’s the best.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice cracked as the other man grabbed your left arm, both of them holding a little bit tighter than you’d like. “What the hell?”

“We just need to try this, okay? We’re just trying to help you and your sister.”

You closed your eyes, refusing to believe that your parents would actually put you through this. “Mom, Mom please!”

You ignored your parents explanations, fighting against the hold they had on you. This was unforgivable. You’d never come home again, never see your friends or Kie. You screamed out, hoping someone somewhere would maybe hear you and come to help.

All chances of that ended the second you were thrown into the backseat of a car and the door slammed shut. You refused to look at your parents, kicking aggressively at the window, the door, anything you could reach. The two men hopped in the front seats and started the car, driving away a second later, leaving all of your hope behind in the process.

Meanwhile, Kie, JJ, John B, and Sarah were waiting anxiously by the private jet. Pope, Cleo, and you hadn’t been seen or heard from and over an hour had past. JJ was getting angry, stressed out that your group was about to be separated once again.

“Dude, where is everybody?” He tossed his backpack against the pavement in anger.

“I don’t know man!”

JJ threw his arm towards the Twinkie. “We should get in the Twinkie, and we should just get ‘em. That’s what we should do!” John B attempted to calm him down to no avail.

“Guys, there’s Pope and Cleo right there,” Kie interrupted their arguing as the duo turned to see their friends pulling up on Pope’s motorbike.

“Were you guys waiting for us?” Cleo asked rhetorically, knowing exactly what was going on moments before.

JJ scooped his backpack off the ground aggressively. “Yes, we were. You’re late. Did you actually convince your pops this time or…”

Pope climbed off the bike and motioned to the girl behind him. “Cleo convinced him.”

JJ moved forward to high five the girl in question before doing their handshake. “My girl. That’s what I’m talking about! I thank you for being a part of my crew.”

Pope took a quick headcount and realized they were short one. “Hey, uh. Where’s Y/N?”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Kie who could only groan and cover her face in her hands. “It’s gotta be my parents. They’ve been up our ass ever since we got back.”

“Do you think they said she couldn’t come?” Sarah asked.

Kie shrugged, “I mean, maybe. But what’s the point in keeping her here if I’m going?”

“We’re gonna have to do this without her.”

To everyone’s surprise, it was JJ that declined Pope’s idea. “No,” He stated bluntly before turning to John B. “Give me the keys.”

“No, dude. No, no, no, no, no.”

JJ grabbed him by his shoulders. “Gimme the keys right now.”

John B shook his head and shrugged JJ’s hands off. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea now, JJ.”

“Look man,” JJ let out a deep sigh, his gaze flickering to the sky for a moment before he faced John B again. “Just give me an hour, please. It’ll be like a black ops mission, in and out. Surgical removal type shit. Plus, I kinda owe her.”

The smirk that formed on John B’s face was comical. He had a feeling as to why JJ was always so harsh with you, but this conversation confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Stop making that face and gimme the keys,” JJ directed, trying his best to ignore the smile his best friend was making at him.

“Okay, well. Yeah. You owe her, right? You owe her.”

JJ snatched the keys out of midair and took off towards the Twinkie, giving zero hesitation as he threw himself through the passenger window despite the protests behind him.

“That door opens, bro!”

He couldn’t care less about their opinions and took off across the airstrip, his mind set on one thing. Getting you back.

The ride to the wilderness camp was uneventful. Your nerves refused to settle as the drive passed in a blur of trees and grassland before you pulled up to the entrance gate. The driver confirmed your presence to the guard before you were allowed through. On each side you could see campers gardening, mowing the lawn, or doing laundry.

The two men led you out of the car and further into the grounds. Campers moved by, all of them in t-shirts or tank tops with the camp logo strewn across. You were met with a woman as you reached the end of the pathway. She directed you to follow to where her office was. A stack of clothing was shoved in your hands and a changing room pointed at for you to enter.

You did so begrudgingly, replacing your clothing with the stiff t-shirt and cloth shorts. The woman was awaiting you upon your exit, motioning for you to sit across from her.

“Thank you, Y/N, for joining us and putting on our uniform.”

You folded your arms across your chest and leaned back into the cushion of the chair. “Like I had a choice.”

The woman was almost expecting your reaction. “Well, now, the good news is, we have a name for your condition. ODD. Opposition defiant disorder.”

“What is that?” Your voice was full of disgust at the idea of being diagnosed with their false beliefs.

“It’s consistent opposition to authority.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did you just make that up? Sounds like bullshit to me.” You hadn’t even been here ten minutes and they think they know what you’ve been through?

“As I was saying, consistent opposition,” The woman returned. “Now, fortunately, it’s very treatable with medication.”

You cut her off instantly. “I’m not taking medication.”

“See that, that right there? Your reaction. You just confirmed my diagnosis. Now, we can help with this.”

You groaned and pushed your fingers through your hair. “Your professional diagnosis,” You scoffed, “Right. Um. Do you mind if I use the restroom? Long drive.”

“Of course, right there.”

You followed the direction she was pointing in and walked into the small room. After you shut and locked the door, your feet were instantly on the counter to get up to the window. The handle squeaked as you cranked it, the window not moving in the slightest. Fists started pounding on the door behind you as you tried to shove the window open in a last ditch effort.

“No, no! Get off me!” You shouted as someone latched around your waist, tugging you backwards off the counter. Another set of hands joined on your arm, the two men pulling you from the cabin. “You people are crazy!”

You fought them the entire way through the grounds, kicking and shouting against them to make it clear that you didn’t want to be here. Eventually, they brought you up the steps of a cabin and shoved you inside before slamming the door. There wasn’t a soul to be found, just a few ratted sheets strews across the sets of bunk beds.

Your back hit the wall, tears finally building in your eyes as you slid down to the ground. The sob was heavy in your chest, air fighting to get to your lungs at the thought of seriously having to fight through this alone. You’d been susceptible to crumbling when you’re left alone, having it happen many times growing up. That’s why you always found comfort in the Pogues, in people who would be there no matter what, no questions asked. This was probably what JJ always wanted, the Pogues on an adventure without him having to deal with you.

You stared ahead at the scribbles on the wall; I feel so much better written back at you. God knows how wrong those words were to you.

The next few hours went by like paint drying on the wall. You tried to fall asleep, to escape for just a little bit. You couldn’t sleep on their shitty beds, your mind wandering to if your friends and sister were flying thousands of miles away above you. You wouldn’t blame them if they did, after all, JJ said only an hour and you were at least three behind by this point.

You were startled when the front door was thrown open. “Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?”

You shuffled off the bed to meet the woman and the guard she came with on the screened in patio. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk we feel you have the strength to hear all the news, including bad news.”

“What happened?” Your question wasn’t meant to be rude, but your first thought went to your friends and the possibilities of what could’ve happened. You found it hard to believe your parents would feel the need to tell you if anything went wrong with them, knowing they’d probably be rejoicing.

“Well, your cousin was here a minute ago.”

You frowned, not knowing who could’ve possibly stopped by. “Wait, what cousin?”

“A young man, blond. He asked me to tell you that Marley, well, he passed away.”

You tried not to look completely confused by her statement but knew it was slippin on your face anyway. “Like Bob Marley? Because-”

“No, your Siamese mix, Marley.”

You figured it would be better to feign shock than act completely clueless, at least buying time for whatever this was. The woman wrapped you in a hug as you let out faux sobs. “You know, I’m actually gonna need a little more time to process,” You choked out as you stepped out of her grip.

She let you move back into the cabin, closing the door behind as you took a seat on the bottom bunk bed. You let out a deep breath, your heart starting to race at the idea of someone actually coming to rescue you.

“Blond.” The word slipped out of your mouth quietly. No way in hell JJ would follow you here, especially with how adamant he was to leave on time. If anything, you figured Kiara would, but it was too big of a risk for her. Pope and Cleo were the only other possibility, but they didn’t have blond hair and John B and Sarah needed to get to his dad asap.

JJ came back. For you. Despite all the shit you both put each other through nonstop, he came back.

Now all you had to do was get out.

You busied yourself with the various books left in the cabin, all of them relating to obedience, ironically. You just had to wait it out until the night when you could hopefully get JJ’s attention somehow and get the hell out of here.

You were surprised when the door opened again to reveal the woman who “diagnosed” you alongside another Kitty Hawk employee.

“Y/N, we know you’re grieving and feel you’re best supported by your peers, so we’re going to relocate you.”

You were confused on how they ever got that you were supported that way, given that you haven’t told them shit. “I-I really feel like I need some more time to reflect.” You didn’t want to risk JJ not being able to find you here if he already knew.

“No stalling. Come on. We’re putting you in a dorm. Cabin six, let’s go.” The worker grabbed the bag from the floor that your parents had supposedly packed for you. You stood up, realizing there was no room for argument and started to follow. There was a nagging feeling at your chest to at least do something, leave a hint for JJ somewhere.

“Hey, uh, just one sec!” You shouted to them before running back towards the room and grabbing the misplaced sharpie that was hidden in your bed. You quickly scrambled Cabin 6. P4L in big black letter amongst the other writing on the bed frames before darting out to follow them.

Thunder continued to echo around you, the sky slowly turning dark with the lingering storm. Storms usually brought you so much comfort and you were hoping this one would be the same.

The girls all stared as you walked into the group cabin, each of them pausing in their actions at the sight of you.

“Girls, this is Y/N. She’s had some tough family news. Let’s show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?”

Hushed whispers and odd looks followed the worker’s question. You nodded to yourself, realizing you were in a bit too far over your head and followed to where they set your bag on the top bunk. You huffed, climbing up onto the bed space and tried to avoid the intense eyes.

As thunder cracked above, you could only hope JJ found your clue.

The cabin succumbed to darkness not too long after, the storm finally raging against the wooden structure. You couldn’t sleep, mind too busy and it was fucking freezing despite the thin blanket they gave you. You wondered if this was it, if you were really stuck here for God knows how long, maybe forever. If Kiara and them got away, it was severely unlikely they were coming back. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame them.

A few tears slipped out despite your best efforts to control them. You’d never been good with dealing with emotions, especially when you were left alone for so long. Like you’d said, this wasn’t the first time it happened and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Usually Kiara came to dig you out of your self-dug hole, but she wasn’t here, and these girls were less than likely to let you talk it out.

You tried really hard to keep everyone happy. That’s all you’d done your entire life, put everyone else ahead of you. JJ was the only person who refused to let you, even if it came in the form of bickering and attitudes against each other. He never once let you put yourself out on the line for him. Sure, he wouldn’t stop you from doing it for other people, but never him.

The ugly realization that you’d been pushing away the one person you actually needed hit you like a train. JJ had always been there, you just never realized it. You always thought he was looking at someone else, ready to tell you off for just existing, but that wasn’t the case. He was just looking out for you and your feelings. Granted, it wasn’t the best way of doing it, but hey, that’s just JJ.

A harsh whisper broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to think nothing of it, after all being in a cabin with 12 other girls made it hard to sleep in silence. Clearly, it was something off because a small light flicked on shortly after.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Hi there. Uh, evening, miss. Uh, sorry. Sorry to bother y’all. Uh, shit. I know this looks bad but I come in peace. But I’m just looking for someone. I’m looking, looking for-”

You sat up at the too familiar voice, your eyes instantly catching the silhouette you’ve been waiting for. “Me.”

The girls whispered around you as you climbed out of the bunk, still clad in your jean shorts and the ugly Kitty Hawk hoodie they’d given you. JJ was staring right at you, a bandana around his neck in an attempt to keep from wandering eyes, his chest heaving at the success of finding you.

You didn’t fight the feeling anymore, instead running straight into him for a hug. He was ready, holding you closer to him than he ever had before. You tried to hold the tears in your eyes as you pulled back. “How did…how?”

“I know, okay. It’s a long story. No time to explain though. I.. wait, one thing though.” You’d never seen him so nervous in all your years of knowing him. “I know I’ve been a dick to you, for so long, a-and I just… Y/N, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

You stared at him with glazed eyes and forced a smile at him. “I love you.”

JJ didn’t seem as shocked as you expected him too. It was almost as if you took the words right out of his mouth. “I love you too.”

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, JJ’s lips were on yours. You held his cheeks lightly, basking in the moment of his hands on your back, holding you close. Abrupt cheering rang out around you, clapping following it as the girls watched the two of you have your moment.

“Whoa, hey! Keep it down, keep it down. Guys, come on, sh!” JJ attempted to get their attention after you two broke apart. You separated from him to grab your bag from the floor before grabbing his hand and running out the door.

“To the right! Go, go, go!” He directed the second you were off the stairs. “Can’t really go through the front gate.” He glanced back to make sure you were following him only to see you smiling at him. JJ didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but he was so glad that it was.

“I didn’t think anyone was gonna come back for me!” You admitted as the two of you finally made it past the main gate entrance.

JJ flashed you a smile as he continued to run. “You gotta have more faith in me.”

You tugged him to a stop just before the path you were on hit the road. This felt like one of those now or never situations, something you had to do in the moment or you’d never had the confidence again. “Jayj. Thank you, for saving me.”

“Why wouldn’t I save you?” He moved closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. He was full of adrenaline from your kiss, the taste of your chapstick still lingering on his tastebuds. “Don’t you ever think I wouldn’t come back for you again, you hear? You’re my girl. I’d never leave you behind.”

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rbinsgf · 1 year

Text

Turn the other cheek, and I take it on the chin /Part 2/

Part 1

The sky was blue, two and two made four and Eddie was a coward.

Those were the irrefutable truth of the world. Eddie used to call his behavior "self-preservation" when he ran away from cops and angry jocks mob, or when he skipped a class he couldn’t understand, or when he ran away after witnessing one of the most traumatizing death in the history of mankind.

But as he saw Robin Buckley angrily stomping down his stairs and into his basement, he couldn’t qualify his next course of actions of anything but cowardice.

He had known day more glorious but as he shielded himself from the furious woman with a, for once, quite Mike Wheeler, he couldn’t care less about his image in front of his club.

Hypocritical right ? Yeah that’s another truth Eddie was very well aware about himself but who would dare look him in the eye and spit that fact in his face ?

Robin Buckley actually, as she did not hesitate to shove Mike out of the way and grab Eddie by the collar of his worn out Hellfire shirt, bringing him dangerously close to her angry red face, and shoving him against the wall.

"You, Edward Theodore Munson, are the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever seen. How dare you force those big monologues on conformity and "Hawkins’ monster" on us on top of those poor cafeteria tables, only to turn around and do exactly what you so loudly claim to be against ?"

Eddie was petrified, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. The basement was as quiet as ever, everyone seemed to hold their breath, too scared they might remind Robin of their presence.

"Steve changed, actually no, he didn’t change. He just had the courage to show his true self, he stripped away from the role that was forced on him by his parents, friends, everyone in this shitty town and by you too. He would and has put his life on the line so many times for every single one of you," She said the last part louder, slightly tilting her head to the side towards a specific side of the table but never moving her rage filled gaze from Eddie’s wide eyes. "He trusted you Eddie, he confided in you and what did you do ? You humiliated him by using his vulnerability against him. I hope you’re happy your pathetic little audience appreciated the spectacle." A protest formed itself on Jeff’s lips but was quickly shut off by a quick glare and an honest to god growl from Robin.

"You know what truly breaks my heart Eddie ? Steve still defended you and he doesn’t even blame you ! Do with that information what you want but I hope it makes you feel so bad you won’t be able to look yourself in any type of reflection for as long as possible."

She slowly stepped away from him, releasing her grip on his shirt and making a show of dusting him off,

"If you want to know what I think of this shit show Eddie. You don’t deserve him." She turned around, facing the kids, "and you guys are a bunch of ungrateful brats who don’t deserve Steve and all that he does for you."

She only looked at the older Hellfire members with disgust before turning back to Eddie. The man in question was looking at the ground, his head hanging guiltily and shoulder hunched.

Robin stepped back into his space, her mouth close to his ear, and let out her final strike in a quite sigh,

"And to think that man saved your life.."

With that, she left as she came, the front door banging loudly behind her.

That last sentence she had whispered in his ear sent a glacial chill down Eddie’s spine. It stabbed through his chest in plain and shameful guilt. Eddie sat heavily on his throne. A throne that Steve had spent two weeks making since the basketball team had burned his old one when he was on the run. He lost himself in a spiral of shame and regrets, cringing at himself as he pictured how it all went down earlier and how, even after noticing Steve leaving, they’d kept that same behavior. Laughing at the expense of the poor man like hyenas. One by one, the older members left quietly. The kids stayed a little longer, sitting in silence before all leaving in a quiet agreement. Eddie only registered Dustin telling him they will be using the phone to call for a drive home. A drive home that, for the first time since the boys had joined Hellfire, wouldn’t be Steve.

Eddie had fucked up, that much was very clear. He also knew why he said all those horrible things, he craved the validation and admiration of his sheepies and hellfire friends.

The only way he had found to maintain those was to do what he had always done.

To the detriment of his friends, Eddie was a hypocrite, selfish and coward man. Eddie saw an opportunity to remind his club of who he was, Eddie "the Freak" Munson, natural nemesis of the jocks.

Robin’s words kept circling in his mind viciously.

The sheer fury that emanated of her trembling frame was enough for Eddie to imagine how bad his words must’ve affected Steve.

He knew those exact words would hurt him and he still said them.

He also knew Steve, through and through now, and with that came the knowledge of what Steve might be thinking about himself right now.

Because his sweet, kind and good Steve, didn’t even blame him one bit. Eddie’s words had definitely hit a very tender spot in Steve’s myriad of insecurities and self doubts.

The man was probably descending full speed through the worst of his self deprecating thoughts right now.

Eddie wished the bats had eaten him alive as the thought of Steve believing Eddie saw him for who he was not.

Eddie would rather Vecna came back as a zombie than Steve Harrington taking his stupid, stupid words at heart and believing them.

If Eddie was going to do one last thing, it was to make sure that Steve knew he wasn’t seen as anything but the painfully good man he truly was.

Resignation filled his mind and he pushed himself up from the throne, walked out of the basement and took the keys of his van before stepping, in the soon to be dark, street.

Eddie was going to see Steve, apologize but most importantly beg the man to not take Eddie’s words for one of the universe’s truth.

It’ll be the last thing he’ll do if Robin Buckley didn’t kill him before for daring to stand in the same vicinity as her friend.

———————————————

Here’s part 2 !! And Eddie’s pov yay !! I’m so grateful for your response to the first part as it’s also a response to me getting back to writing and it motivates me so much guys !!!

Next part will be up in a few days since I’m going back to college full time but I’ll do my best to update this little fic as soon as possible !

I tried to tag everyone who asked for it and hope it all worked ?

Love y’all gang ! 🫶🏼🧡

Tag list : @liketheocean @cameheretoread @doubleb11 @m-owo-n @moonage-daydreaming @shitnshit @throwbackthrowaway @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @zerokrox-blog @summer1066 @thesuninyaface @i-less-three-than-you @gamerdano @ineffablecolors @warriorwerewolfheart @tinysuits @cr0w-culture @thatonepotatochild @classicwho @lololol-1234 @what-is-life-but-an-empty-void @victor-thee-corvid @little-gae-shit @livelaughlexa @a-little-unsteady @stevie-crow @val-from-lawrence

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #steddie #the fruity four #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #steddie fic #stobin #stobin fic #steve and robin #stobin friendship #platonic soulmates stobin #Steve Harrington x the party

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ivestas · 1 year

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könig with a confident/badass reader that knows their shit? 👀 im so hrrrng for this man i want to fluster him so bad

blackened valor

Summary: König admires you, so you expose your humanity to him.

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x könig, reader implied to be on the older side, smoking, barely edited, mentally ill reader, this might be triggering for those struggling with suicidal thoughts so please be careful/dont read!

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: anon we are literally on the same wavelength, i was earlier thinking about a reader who has that dorky badassery of snake or raiden or literally any mgs character LMAO

Not much was known about you beyond your feats on the field.

But those feats defined your personhood within any military—the moment a recruiter knew who you were, they’d be on their knees begging for your presence among theirs.

It was like being a celebrity, except you got no perks and more targets on your back and eyes on you every second of the day, trying to break down your character and understand—understand what, only God knows.

You were fine with that, though; you get used to it after a while: the praise, the envy, it all becomes white noise over the howl of the wind.

So it was a normal occurrence when you noticed a set of eyes on you.

What was abnormal was the one doing the staring.

An Austrian giant.

It piqued your interest; a shallow reason to humor since you’ve been in this situation numerous times before, but you didn’t care.

From your seat in the empty lounge, you leaned back, regarding him carefully.

He couldn’t meet your stare.

Cute.

“You are?” You grabbed a lighter from your pockets, popping out a cheap cigarette at the same time. In a swift motion, the cigarette was alight on your lips, and now it sat between your index and middle finger.

“König, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out your lips. “I’m ‘Hound’ to everyone, no need for the formalities, save that for your captain.”

He nodded jerkily. You noted his scrunched shoulders, his stiff poise, and his foot moving in a rhythmic motion. The chair he sat on seemed to bend at the movement.

"Hey, c’mere.”

In an instant, he did as you said, walking to you quickly.

You pat the spot beside you. “Sit, no need to sit on that shitty chair. Pretty sure it was about to collapse.”

Nodding again, he sat beside you.

You lift your cigarette to him. “Wanna?”

König shook his head. “I don’t.”

“I’d praise you for making such a good health decision, but it’d make me a hypocrite considering you chose to be a merc.” You sighed, taking another puff of smoke. “Speaking of, what’s a timid guy like you doin’ in a merc group?”

“...”

“Touchy subject, eh?” You shook your head, laughing again. “It’s always like that with soldiers—it’s either to pay college debt or to run away from some fucked past.”

König glanced at you, finally. He held your gaze.

“What about you, then?”

“Me?” You hummed, leaning forward now with your elbows on your knees, one hand propping your head up while the other held the cigarette. Looking up at him, you smiled. “Money. Valor. Suitors. I’m a materialist at heart, I love the attention too. I’m super fucking vain.”

“That can’t be?”

The way he gasped those words made you grin. He was quickly becoming a favorite. “Then what do you think is the real reason?”

“Uhm...” His fingers tapped his knee, and his eyes strayed up, deep in thought. Then, embarrassed, his voice dropped. “...to change the world?”

Despite the clear embarrassment, he said the words with unwavering sureness, and it dawns on you that he probably thought of you as some war hero—a pursuer of all that is good for the world.

When you look at him—properly this time, not an off-handed glance—you can see it in his eyes, the shine.

You were right.

In the past, moments like this would be awkward; you never knew what to say, how to softly break the truth that you were just some woman, and the honest truth wasn’t coated in honor and your drive to be a force of good.

But now? You didn’t care. You never had.

“I wanted to die,” you said casually—and it was a casual admission, you didn’t really care, because that was the truth.

You saw his eyes widen and it nearly made you laugh.

“I was gonna, you know, kill myself when I was younger. Had planned it out and everything,” you sighed wistfully. “Then, I thought, ‘why not join the military’? Easier to break to my family that when I inevitably died, it was for a cause rather than the fact I succumbed to my own perpetual weakness.”

“It’s not—”

“’It’s not weakness’ yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “It’s easy to say that because you feel it. We all feel it—the desire to die.”

The bottom of his hood shifted again, and you expected to hear his words, but nothing came out.

“But, yeah, I guess after a while of realizing that I’m cursed with some twisted luck of brushing past the grim reaper, I decided to be a bit of a saint and run around and ‘fix’ things, just to stave the boredom away.”

You took another puff, longer this time. “You grow attached to the idea of bringing peace, I think. My advice? If you want to bring the most change, let go of your fear of death. Suddenly, everything’s not so scary anymore...” you smile. “But I’m guessing you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

König was silent, but after a moment, he nodded.

“See? Now you’re just as much of a ‘hero’ as me.” You lifted the cigarette. “You sure you don’t want, by the way?”

“...I’ll try.” His hands were large, dwarfing the cigarette to a ridiculous degree.

With his free hand, he lifted the end of his hood, and you caught a bit of his face.

Pretty.

He sucked in and began coughing right after, lowering the cigarette for a moment. Clumsy puffs of smoke shot out his lips, and after a few seconds, he tried again.

Still awkward, but a bit better.

“Ah, you’re getting there König, now you’re just as much of a hero as me!” You reached for the cigarette and took a puff before handing it back.

He paused before putting it back between his lips, but you notice a flush of pink dusting his pale skin. Even with just the bottom of his face showing, you could see he was... blushing?

That made you bark out a laugh.

He’s so fucking shy.

He seemed to have caught on quickly because he quickly moved the cigarette back to you, refusing to meet your eyes, tugging the hood back over his face.

“Come on soldier, don’t be shy! We’re all friends here, right?” You leaned back and pat his shoulder. “Unless..?”

He froze under your hand.

You laughed again, letting your hand rest there. He didn’t push it away, remaining stiff under your palm, head turned away and fingers fiddling with gloves wrapped around his hands.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#konig x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare x reader #cod x reader #könig x reader #tw sucidal ideation #tw suicide #dont smoke kids it isnt cool #even if a war hero pressures u too!

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sunoooism · 11 months

Text

> summary : how txt reacts when you dodge their kisses (separately)

› fluff / wc: 2.6k

› warnings : profanity, worrying, self doubt, pranks (obviously), gn!reader

⊹

→ choi yeonjun

petty af.

LIKE EXCUSE YOU⁉️ HOW DARE YOU⁉️

u were just sitting in his lap, scrolling through your phone and using his shoulder as a pillow waiting for the opportune moment.

when he leant down to give you a loving kiss you obviously dodged his lips.

no biggie, he figures. you must have been interested in whatever you were watching, that doesn't bother him.

"can I have a kissy? I didn't mean to get in the way of your phone, promise." pls he's so genuine it hurts.

you're weak for your boyfriend, who wouldn't be, so you're trying with all your might not to crack.

he is flabbergasted when you shake your head and answer with a no.

he knows you love his lips a little too much to be serious.

is confused, so therefore is trying to figure out what ur up to.

when he finally finds out it's a prank.

o h m y g o d.

tortures u 4 the next week.

"Junnie, can I have a kiss? pretty please? :)"

"no."

😦

go along with his game just to piss him off, it's only furthering your original trick.

see who cracks first.

spoiler alert it's him.

→ choi soobin

a tad bit hurt.

you can see his cute little smile drop, and the way he just stares at u. :(((

why would u even do that to him ?

panics a little.

did he make you uncomfortable ? do you not love him anymore ? is his breath smelly ?

you have to try and keep your composure when you see him out of the corner of your eye practically panting into his hand just so he can get a whiff.

even if his breath is completely fine expect to find him scrubbing his teeth and tongue like a maniac.

you'll go looking for him and find the man in question with a toothbrush half way down his throat, save him please.

feel bad and tell him it was a joke rn!! (or else)

he's pouty.

keeps asking for kisses and if you say no-

"you're so mean, after what you put me through? I think I scrubbed off my taste buds !! >:["

except to be trapped in his arms for the rest of the day.

→ choi beomgyu

this guy....

slightly offended and slightly amused, doesn't know which one to fully commit to.

he'll figure out a way to get kisses from you somehow.

the guilt tripping is insane tho.

like.

"I can't believe you don't love me anymore :("

it's all in good spirit tho, he knows u still adore him.

which is why he's now demanding kisses !!

if that doesn't work he'll try to melt u down until you're putty .

the bastard knows his glasses make your knees weak.

if you withstand the all powerful gyu with glasses then he moves onto his deep voice.

um, sorry to say but no one survives that.

he's clingy 4 the rest of the day, it's your fault.

→ kang taehyun

can't be arsed w your bullshit.

the epitome of 😐

knows it's one of your little jokes the moment he hears a hushed giggle.

subtle revenge bordering on yeonjun's pettiness.

no, nevermind. just pettiness.

will deny kisses from you for as long as it takes for you to admit what you did or say sorry.

he might not even stop once you do either of those.

bro's a menace.

It's gotten to the point where you just sneak kisses to his cheek whenever he has his guard down.

he obviously wipes it off tho.

evil.

flash those puppy eyes and his lips r urs again.

→ huening kai

poor bby get's worried he did something wrong :((

panic mode 2

"sweets? are you mad? :(("

gets in his own head a lil bit.

is thinking about everything he did that day in order to deduct how he upset u.

comfort him rn.

he just kind of floats around you for the remainder of the day feeling shitty.

when you ask him what's the matter with an underlying giggle he lies and says nothing.

the immense guilt you feel when you spot him lying on your bed and staring at a plain wall, ignoring his usually overly loved plushies :{

if your heart doesn't get soft who r u.

apologise to this overthinking man.

u r now smothered with kisses and cuddles for the rest of the day, he should have compensation for this outrage !!!

man baby.

©sunoooism

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crybabylulu · 4 days

Text

That Night (smut)

(Sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)

Minors go tf away!

Warnings: men being weird, fingering, drinking, degrading, fucking in a closet, fighting, lots of hickeys

Remember that party Asami invited you and Lin to? Yeah it’s party time!

I had a glass of champagne in my hand while I watched people dance around at Asami’s party. The more I drink my champagne the more I realize I should have just gotten a shot. I’m not the biggest champagne person but I try so hard to be it’s stupid. I got this itching feeling that someone was looking at me but before I could look around Mako came up to me. “Hey.” Mako said. “Hey.” I said back and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Have you seen Bolin?” Mako asked. “No I have not.” I said. “Damn, well you wanna take a shot with me?” He offered me a shot glass. “I’d love to.” I said as I took it.

We clinked glasses then tossed our shots back. The liquid burned for a second then the feeling subsided. “I gotta go find Bolin to make sure he’s not doing anything stupid. I’ll come back to check on you in a bit.” Mako said. “You don’t have to check up on me, I'm a big girl.” I told him. “Tell that to chief.” Mako said as he walked away. I shook my head. When I go out by myself Lin sometimes has Mako follow me around which he rather do then paperwork anyways but it’s not like I can’t take care of myself. I started getting that feeling again of someone watching me and it’s bugging me.

I need another shot. I walked off to the mini bar and ordered a shot of cactus juice and then after I took it I said fuck it and ordered another one. Before I could leave the bar some guy blocked my way. “Excuse me.” I said as I tried to get past him. “Why don’t you come dance with me?” The average height man asked. “Actually she’s my dance partner.” Asami said as she grabbed my hand and dragged me away towards the dance floor. “Thank you.” I said. “No problem now, dance with me.” Asami said. I laughed as she held my hand as we danced around each other and on each other.

“I’m surprised you can dance in this dress.” Asami said to me as I danced on her. “What do you mean?” I asked as I moved my hips. “The slits of your dress goes all the way up your thighs at any minute we could have a flash moment.” Asami teased. “Oh shut up I used the tape you invented to make sure this dress don’t move like that.” I laughed. “I’m glad it’s really working, I’m truly a genius.” Asami said. “Indeed you are.” I said. Once the song was over Asami went to go find Korra. I ran into Mako again. “Still no Bolin?” I asked. “He’s in the pool.” Mako told me.

“Oh also you are doing a shitty job at protecting me.” I teased him. “What happened? Are you ok?” Mako asked frantically and started looking over my body for bruises or scratches. I mean he might find a bruise or two because Lin likes to mark me up. “Did someone do this to you?” Mako asked as he poked at my shoulder blade. “That’s a hickey.” I told him. “Oh.” Mako said as he turned me around to face him. “Yeah me and your mom get frisky.” I said. “I don’t need to know about what you and the chief do.” Mako said and shivered in disgust.

I laughed. “Anyways what happened?” Mako asked. “Some dude blocked me from leaving the bar then Asami came to save me.” I said. “I saw you two on the dance floor, you don’t think chief will get mad?” Mako asked. “Why would she?” I asked. “Since she likes to leave marks on you like that and has me follow you around she seems a little possessive don’t you think?” Mako asked. “I suppose so, yes but I don’t think she’ll get upset over me dancing with Asami.” I said. “Anyways stay with me so you don’t get bothered.” Mako said.

Hmmm how about no. “Mako, look , there's a tall buff smart pretty girl over there.” I said and pointed in the opposite direction. “Where?” Mako asked and I took off. I went back to the dance floor. I’m not afraid to dance alone. Is it more fun to have someone to dance with yes but oh well I have to dance alone. As I was dancing I felt someone grab my waist and I wasn’t alarmed at first my brain thought it was Asami or Lin. “Where’s your dance partner?” The male voice asked. Oh hell no! I quickly moved away and turned around.

“Dude what the fuck?” I asked. “Just dance with me.” He said. “No.” I said and tried to walk away from him but he grabbed my wrist. “Hey! Get off.” I snapped and turned back to face him. “It’s just one dance.” He snapped back. Before I could raise my other hand to punch him I was pulled away and then the guy was put on the ground. “You ok?” Mako asked. “Yeah I’m fine.” I told Mako. “You sure?” Lin asked me. “I’m fine baby.” I said. “I’ll get him out of here.” Mako said and dragged him away. “Come with me.” Lin said and we walked off the dance floor. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Since people wanna dance with my girl I’ll just have to remind them you belong to me.” Lin said. Oh no. Lin dragged me into a closet. She pushed me against the wall and started a passionate make out. Her coming to save me made me horny but now her shoving me into the closet has me even more excited. Anyone could come in and see us but I don’t care. I want them to know, I want them to see, I need them to know I’m her’s. I pulled away. “You gonna keep making out with me or are you gonna remind everyone who I belong to?” I asked. Lin immediately attacked my neck.

I leaned my head back so she could have more access to my neck. “Lin please more.” I begged her. “Don’t be an impatient brat.” Lin growled. “Please.” I begged. Lin turned me around and lifted up my dress. I wasn’t wearing any shorts, it was just a dark red thong with a heart chain under my long dress. Lin smacked my ass and I let out a moan. “Lin.” I whined. She nibbled on my ear and smacked my ass over and over. God this feels so good. Lin pulled down my panties and started to circle my clit. “You’re wet just from me spanking you?” Lin asked.

“Yes, I love when you spank me.” I whined. Lin turned me to face her and pulled down my dress to pull out my breast. She nipped my left nipple and I gasped. She was gonna leave marks all over my tits. “Lin please more.” I begged. Lin slipped two fingers inside of me stretching me out and my back arched. “Yes, more baby more.” I whined. She curled her fingers and did a come here motion. “Fuck keep doing that.” I moan out. “You’re all mine aren’t you?” Lin whispered in my ear. “Yes I’m all yours!” I cried out. Her fingers feel so good inside of me. “You’re sure?” Lin asked.

“Yes baby I’m yours.” I moaned. “I thought you’d be Asami’s the way you were dancing on her.” Lin growled and rubbed my clit with her other hand. “No Lin. I’m yours all fucking yours! I belong to you!” I cried out. I guess Mako was right. “That’s right you belong to me.” Lin said. My legs were shaking and ready to give out. “Oh god please chief I’m close.” I whined as I felt a familiar tightness building in my belly. “When you cum you better scream my name.” Lin commanded. I nodded my head and the closer I got to tipping over the edge I kept saying her name over and over again.

“Do you think you can take another finger?” Lin asked. My eyes widened. “I c-can try.” I said unsurely. “Good girl.” Lin said and I felt her add a third finger. I gripped Lin’s shoulders. “Fuck chief!” I cried out. “Your tight pussy is swallowing my fingers up so well baby girl.” Lin cooed. We’ve never done this before but it feels so fucking good and I can feel my juices leaking down my thighs. “I’m so close.” I told her. “Cum for me baby you can do it.” Lin said, pumping her fingers faster. “I’m all yours Lin, I belong to you, I’m yours. I don’t want anyone but you,” I grabbed Lin’s face so she could look at me as I declared her ownership over me.

I could tell her eyes were full of lust but there’s something else there but I had no time to decipher what it was because Lin smashed her lips against mine. Lin plunged her tongue in my mouth and I didn’t even put up a fight. I let her do whatever she wanted to me. As Lin slowly pulled away I felt light headed. “You’re right you’re mine, you belong to me, there will be no one that touches you the way I do.” Lin groaned. Her words pushed me over the edge. “Lin!” I cried out as I orgasmed.

Lin fingered me through as my whole body shook. “Fuck Beifong.” I sighed out. “You ok?” Lin asked. I nodded my head. “You sure?” Lin asked. “Yes baby I’m fine.” I said. “Good.” Lin said as she pulled out her fingers and I put them in my mouth. I sucked them clean for her. “Let’s get out of here.” Lin said. “No, I wanna keep dancing.” I whined. “One more dance then we go.” Lin said as she helped me put on my panties. “You fucked up the tape.” I sighed. “What do you mean?” Lin asked. “There was tape that I put on the strings of my panties to help keep my dress from moving all over the place.” I told her.

“You’ll be fine.” Lin said. I nodded and we exited the closet together. Before we made it all the way back to the party Lin stopped me. “What’s wrong?” I asked and turned to look at her. Lin opened her mouth but then stopped. “Where the hell have you two been? Are you ok?” Kya asked coming up to us. “I was a little shaken up about what happened earlier.” I said. “Aww Linny, look at you taking care of your girlfriend. How romantic.” Kya teased. “Kya don’t you have single woman to mingle with?” Lin asked. “No need to be hostile Linny, but are you really ok?” Kya asked me.

“Yes I’m fine.” I said. “Oh and by the way Mako got into a fight with that guy.” Kya said. “Is Mako ok?” I asked. “Of course he’s ok.” Lin said. “Lin knows her precious son can handle himself but yes he’s ok.” Kya said. Lin rolled her eyes. Kya’s eyes widened. “What?” I asked. “Y’all are nasty! All those hickeys.” Kya gasped. “Oh hush Kya.” Lin said. Kya and I laughed. I was happy that the hickeys were seen. This is what we wanted. We walked back to the party and I got to dance with Lin for a little bit. Lin ran her hands over my body as we danced.

#lin is fine asf #chief of police lin beifong #sugar mama lin beifong #lin beifong smut #lin beifong x reader #tlok lin #korra x asami #asami sato #mako tlok #kya tlok

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