#gabriel luna x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 1

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes:This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.

Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.

I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.

“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”

She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.

It probably helps that she has giant tits too.

I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor.

I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.

“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.

“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.”

Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.

“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”

“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip.

“You look stressed. I can help with that.”

His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me.

“She said she was done talkin’.”

This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole.

The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor.

"Fuck off, friend."

"Not until you leave the lady alone."

The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch.

"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."

The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.

"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."

The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence.

"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."

The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."

Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."

The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own.

"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything.

A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab.

"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?"

"Travis County. The one on 10th."

"Thanks."

The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.

So I wait.

Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.

"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?"

The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze.

"You bailed me out?"

"I had to. You saved me."

God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'."

"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"

"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"

I wave my hand at him. "No way."

"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"

I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"

He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"

I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."

"Ah I'll be alright."

"Stop arguing and come with me."

He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."

Oh I am so fucked.

He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name.

"I'm Tommy by the way."

I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."

We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment.

"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."

He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors.

"You serve?" I ask.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"

"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"

"I…yeah. That would be preferable."

I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."

I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.

"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."

I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."

He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."

"What, are you a carpenter or something?"

"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."

"So do I."

Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand.

His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.

"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks.

"What?"

"On your shelf."

"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"

He smirks. "Are you surprised?"

"A little."

"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."

"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"

"Yeah."

"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."

"Oh I'm not many people."

"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."

His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I love pizza."

"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it.

"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it.

"You managed to snag a copy?"

"I bribed the cashier."

He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."

The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles.

"You got a DVD player?"

"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."

I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button.

"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"

“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”

Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”

I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”

Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”

“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”

Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”

“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”

Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter.

“So you’re just….friends?”

Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”

Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”

“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”

The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”

“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”

Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”

>>Chapter 2>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #The last of us #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #the last of us fanfic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters #gabriel luna character fanfic #gabriel lunal character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

113 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder - Gabriel Luna x Reader

Summary: Gabriel comes home from The Last of Us press tour and you two find yourself falling into bed immediately

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: smut (p in v); fingering; fluff

Notes: I’ve just had Gabriel brain rot from the picture on the right and had to write something

Y/N’s POV

I settle down on my couch, sinking into the me shaped spot I’ve created from gaming. My head hurts too much to play anything so I just huddle up in a blanket and switch to YouTube, wanting to find something to laugh at like Markiplier but a very familiar face pops up on my recommended. Gabriel Luna. My boyfriend, secret one albeit, and it’s his latest interview for The Last of Us that he messaged me a few days ago saying he had filmed and for me to look out for it.

Can’t deny I’m a little nervous when I click on the video and skip the add to see Gabriel’s pretty face pop up on my big screen TV. It makes me miss him even more, I have my own acting gigs but right now I’m in between jobs and Gabriel’s off doing the press tour for The Last of Us with Pedro and Bella so we’ve been apart for almost a month now.

As the interview starts I hear Gabriel’s voice and that southern drawl that I love so much, my heart swelling just hearing him speak and I can’t help but smile at the screen. He looks so handsome and confident, his stylist knowing exactly how to make him look good, his dark curls bouncing as he moves and that cream suit mixed with the black and floral button up? Oh my god, he is perfect. The interviewer is hanging on to his every word and as much as that makes me a little jealous, I also can’t really blame her.

When Gabriel talks about gaming he mentions me and I feel a rush of emotion. It’s not often he talks about our relationship in public as we both want to keep it private for a little while longer before we do tell everyone. He never uses my name, just calls me his girlfriend and even that has me blushing and squirming. I find myself nodding along as Gabriel talks about his love for The Last of Us games and his admiration for the fanbase. It’s so wonderful to see him passionate about his work and the projects he’s involved in, especially seeing him get to work with one of my best friends - Pedro Pascal. I was a little surprised when my two worlds collided in the best way, Pedro being one of the only few to know about mine and Gabriel’s relationship.

The interview is coming to an end when I hear keys in the door and I think my heart jumps with hope as only two people have keys. My best friend in the whole world - Barbara Palvin - and Gabriel. As I turn my head towards the door I think I cry as he’s standing there, the door falling shut behind him. There’s a wide smile on his face, his bags falling to the floor as he opens his arms for me and I waste no time throwing the blanket off, almost tripping on it in my hurry to get to Gabriel. His strong arms envelope me in a warm embrace and I can feel myself crying, burying my face in his chest and clinging to him. He’s smoothing down my hair and rocking me on the spot, whispering sweet nothings as he holds me tightly until I’ve calmed down enough for him to pull back slightly. His hands move to cup my face and he leans in to kiss me.

The kiss starts off gentle, as if Gabriel’s trying to memorise every inch of my lips, his hands moving to my air and the small of my back to pull me closer and deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance. Our lips move in perfect sync, as if we’re communicating through the touch. The taste of him fills my senses and I feel myself melting into him, all the pent-up longing and frustration of being apart for a month pouring out of me. His hands move down to my waist, pull me flush against him, feeling the warmth and strength. He’s breaking the kiss with a playful grin and before I can ask what’s going on I’m being picked up easily and thrown over his shoulder with a shriek of surprise as he heads for the bedroom where he tosses me onto the bed.

I watch as he kicks of his travel trainers and throws his jacket on the floor before he’s climbing over me, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in the crook of my neck, kissing the bare skin. I can feel his warm breath on my neck as he starts to pepper soft kisses along my collarbone, his hands roaming over my body, sending shivers down my spine when the calloused pads of his fingers find bare skin to trace across as if remembering me. The anticipation builds as he kisses his way up my neck, his lips meeting mine in a heated kiss. I can feel the desire and passion pouring out of Gabriel as his kiss deepens, his tongue eagerly exploring my mouth. His hands move to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift movement, revealing my bra-clad chest. He breaks the kiss just long enough to appreciate the sight before him before he’s leaning down to kiss my chest, his lips trailing hot and wet over the fabric of my bra.

I moan softly, arching my back as he continues his exploration, his hands deftly unhooking my bra and tossing it aside before he’s taking a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking until it’s hard and sensitive. His hands roam over my body, teasing and caressing until I’m gasping for air and my body is on fire with need. With a wicked grin, Gabriel flips us over, hands gripping my hips and dark eyes trailing down my half bare body, tough darting out to wet his lips, “Fuck darlin’, I missed you s’much.” He murmurs, voice low and husky as he watches me rake my nails lightly down his chest under his shirt, drawing a low sound from him.

“Too many clothes baby.” I grumble, tugging at his shirt, gasping when he sits up and throws his shirt across the room in one smooth motion, arms coming back to wrap around me, “G-Gabe,” I’m groaning when he guides my hips down against his, feeling his arousal pressing deliciously against my clit with every roll of my hips. His lips are ghosting down my neck, drawing soft moans from me as he leaves a trail of red marks, his lips and teeth leaving a tingling sensation on my skin. His hands wander over my body, finding their way to my waist and pulling me closer to him. The sensation of his lips on my skin and his hands on my body is almost too much to handle, and I find myself arching my back and pressing myself closer to him. I can feel his breath on my neck as he whispers sweet nothings, and I can't help but shiver with pleasure. As he leaves one last hickey on my neck, he pulls back slightly to admire his handiwork with a satisfied grin. I can't help but laugh and playfully swat at him, feeling the happiness and love radiating from him.

Gabriel’s nimble fingers dip into the waistband of my sweatpants and he’s tugging until I slide off his lap, standing in front of him as he scoots to the edge of the bed. His lips find my hips, teeth grazing almost painfully as he pushes my sweatpants and panties down my thighs, allowing me to kick them aside and leaving me completely bare for him. His fingers ghost up the insides of my thighs, kneading the flesh and teasing me until I’m whining and gripping his chin to make him look up at me. The sight of him, sun-kissed skin flushed, russet eyes almost black and pupils blown wide with love and lust, lips wet and parted slightly as he meets my gaze, the starts of a knowing smirk curling at the corners of his lips, “Gabriel.” I choke out, walls clenching around nothing as I lean down to kiss him again.

His name falls from my lips again, this time breathier as those fantasy-inducing fingers slip through my arousal soaked folds, stopping to rub tight circles over my clit, my hands flying to his shoulders as he breaks the kiss to watch my reaction. Without warning, or teasing, he’s sheathing a thick finger inside me, drawing a surprised gasp from me, my eyes fluttering shut when his thumb goes back to circling my clit. A second finger soon joins the first, finding an almost abusing pace, fingers curling and hitting that spongy spot every time and my thighs are beginning to shake embarrassingly quickly but from the way Gabriel’s eyes are glued to where his fingers are disappearing inside me he’s proud. A grin on his kissable lips when my nails leave half-moons in his freckled shoulders and my body jerks forwards, my temple pressed against his so I’m moaning into his ear as a wave of ecstasy crashes over me, his other arm having to wrap around my waist to hold me up as his fingers don’t stop until I’m whining.

“Darlin’, you’re so pretty,” Gabriel coos, fingers slipping from me and he’s guiding me back down onto the bed, making sure there’s enough pillows under my head before he’s shimmying out of his jeans and boxers. My eyes drift down his body, swallowing thickly at the sight of him, all hot and bothered just for me, the dark curls that lead to his thick dick that is oozing precum. I’m parting my legs for him as he climbs over me, running the head through my slicked folds a few times before he pushes the head past, a low and guttural sound falling from those pretty pink lips as his hands find mine and press them to the bed, either side of my head. He slowly rocks his hips, slipping further with every thrust until he’s buried to the hilt, nose nudging my cheek until I turn my head towards him and he’s drawing me into a passionate kiss. The taste of him fills my senses, and I find myself lost in the moment, unable to think of anything else but him and the way he leaves me feeling so full and loved. I’m wrapping my legs around his hips and digging my heels into the small of his back, pushing him in even further than I thought possible, the tip brushing my cervix and a whimper is escaping my throat.

“G-Gabe please, fuck…” I’m begging and it doesn’t take much, his hips snapping against mine as he sets a slow but deep pace. The taste of coffee on his lips is sweet and intoxicating and adding to the heightened pleasure of him hitting that spongey spot each time. My back arching into every thrust, eyelids slipping shut as I’m consumed by everything Gabriel, hands sliding into his curls and gripping the back of his neck, feeling his muscles ripple and flutter with every movement. His body is pressed flush against mine, a light sheen of sweat coating our bodies, the coarse curls of his v-line catching my clit with every roll of his hips that has my thighs tightening around him. I can feel every bump and ridge against my walls with every pull out and his tip presses deliciously into that spongey spot every time he bottoms out. Low and guttural sounds rumble in his chest as our bodies shine with a thin layer of sweat, his curls sticking to his forehead, sun-kissed skin flushing as he makes love to me. His nose nuzzling my jaw and as he whispers sweet nothings, lips ghosting my neck, lips soft and breath hot. It’s hot and heavy, slow and sensual, and I can feel that coil in my stomach ready to snap.

My walls are fluttering around him as his hips begin to stutter, my name falling from his lips and he’s biting down on the sensitive skin of my jaw when he thrusts one more time, burying himself to the hilt again and staying there. I can feel him filling me up, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing circles into it until I’m crying out and throwing my head back into the pillows. My walls clamp down around him, milking him for every drop until he’s collapsing on top of me as we try to catch our breath. He’s humming softly as I begin to card a hand through his messy curls, having missed him so goddamn much.

He tries to move but I wrap my arms around him and keep my legs locked enough for him to get the hint, a low rumble of laughter in his chest as his kisses my collarbone and just shifts us so we’re laying on our sides. His hand cups my cheek, eyes fluttering open and still dark and warm as he meets my gaze, thumb brushing over my bottom lip lovingly as he whispers, “I’ve missed you so much sweetheart, let’s never be apart again.”

I’m nodding in agreement, pressing a kiss to his open palm before burying my face in the crook of his neck as my eyelids grow heavy with sleep. He’s wrapping his arms comfortingly around me and the last thing I hear is him chuckle as my response.

“Yes, let’s.”

------------

Celebs Masterlist

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@iraot @gemimawrites @twopercentmilk @urnewghostfriend @sonhee-a @dizzyforyou-blog @grooveandshit @canpillowscry @jell0buss-37 @androgynousgaz @kalllistos @mediocrewallflow3r @certifiedhunter @pedritosdarling @fariylixie0915 @phoenixxtay @mydailyhyperfixations @carlgrimeskisser

71 notes · View notes

limerence4u · 9 months

Text

gabriel luna is so boyfriend coded <3

1K notes · View notes

tommysversion · 1 year

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy (Alternate Version) [ Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: an alternate version to Jealousy, Jealousy, where instead of making up with Joel? You go back to Tommy to pick up where you left off.

CWs: age gap (implied) / oral sex (f!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / use of pet names / derogatory language / questionably safe sex / spanking (with hand and with a belt) / light dom & sub dynamic but only if you squint.

Tag List: @pedritosdarling @chaotic-mystery @loquaciousferret @bearsbeetsbeskar @funnygirlthatgab @dreamingofdaddydin @pr0ximamidnight @joelsgirl @mydailyhyperfixations @cutesyscreenname @serenaxpedro @beskarandblasters @darlingpedro

Notes: It probably makes sense to read the original first?

Buy Me A Coffee?

It’s been two days, and you’re still hurting. Still bitter, still can’t get the image out of your head. Not just the image, but the sound.

Alcohol isn’t helping. Hell, the only thing that did help was the distraction in the form of Joel’s younger brother.

The implication that you could have had more still hangs between you, and it’s that, combined with your own frustration, that leads you to Tommy’s apartment door.

He doesn’t seem remotely surprised to see you, but then again, he’s been thinking about your last… interaction… a great deal, as well. The way you looked so pretty on your knees for him, your mouth full of his cock…

Yeah. Safe to say he’s been hoping you’d show up, and here you are.

You shrug off your thin denim jacket, leaving you just in your dress, having already left your shoes by the door.

“And what can I do for you, hon?” He has his arms crossed over his chest, trying to at least attempt to be a gentleman, but you both know what you’re here for.

“I was hoping we could pick up where we left off.”

You don’t bother sugarcoating it, there’s no point, not with the way he’s looking at you, undressing you with his eyes.

“That so?”

You nod, chew your lower lip in between your teeth, take a little step closer.

“If that’s alright with you?” You try not to let your nerves show, worried fleetingly that you might have made a mistake.

“More than alright with me, didn’t I offer the other night? I try to be a man of my word, you know.”

The smirk on his face makes it easier to relax, gives you the confidence to slide your dress from your shoulders, let the fabric pool at your feet as you step closer to him. No underwear. You knew what you were doing, wanted to be as enticing as possible.

As if you just showing up and asking wasn’t enough to make him so hard it hurts.

His eyes burn a searing gaze as he looks you up and down, takes in every inch of bare skin as you approach him. Once again he wonders, vaguely, whether his brother is a complete idiot to have not noticed you, to have simply strung you along for as long as he has.

Or maybe he just doesn’t have the control that Joel does. Maybe he’s easier tempted by a younger, pretty girl, especially when said girl shows up at his door and practically begs for his dick for the second time in as many days.

He’s not the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth, after all. That, and he’s only human, only a man, and quite frankly the way you’re looking at him has him far too hard to ignore.

You’re so tiny he has to lift you up to kiss you, but that’s fine; your legs lock around his waist as he carries you over to the nearest surface - the island kitchen bench - and sets you down on it.

You keep your legs wrapped around him, keeping yourself as close as possible.

He’s used to coming second, used to being the other brother. Everyone either wants to be Joel or fuck him, and he’s always been the second option.

Make no mistake, he knows you’re here because of Joel, knows that something has happened between you and his brother to push you to him, but it doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t bother him because he knows Joel hasn’t touched you. Just this once, he gets something first.

Knows he isn’t your first choice, but you came back to him. You chose to come back to him, and that prompts some sort of smug reaction in him, some sort of need to prove a point, to prove that you made the right decision.

He loves his brother, truly he does. But he’s also tired of being in constant competition. Having you here… it feels like a win.

Your lips latch onto his neck, sucking a mark into his collarbone as you unbutton his shirt, wanting to get rid of the damn thing so you can run your hands along bare skin.

Vaguely you remember him saying something about being in the army before the outbreak, but even then, you hadn’t been excepting him to be so solid against you. Everyone’s a little worse for wear in the QZ, but he’s still bulky, and you like it.

It makes you feel safe, which is stupid because there’s no such thing as safe anymore, but really you just want a distraction and he’s right there, exactly what you need, solid and warm, his mouth so, so hungry against yours.

This is exactly what you need, to feel wanted, to forget what’s hurting you.

“Now if I remember correctly, I owe you something, hon…”

You blink at him, confused, but also intrigued.

“Wha-?” Your half spoken question is answered when he pulls you against him, leans down in a half crouch so he’s eye level with your thighs.

“Didn’t forget that pretty mouth… figured I’d return the favour.”

You can feel the blush rising to your cheeks as you understand what he means, your suggestion that he doesn’t have to halfway to spoken, dying on your lips as his mouth latches onto you, sucking on your clit greedily.

Fuck, he’s done this before. Done it a lot, if you’re guessing right. That or the men you’ve been with before are seriously lacking in this department.

Your head tilts back, eyes half closed as your hand finds his hair, settles into it, keeps him in place as his hands hold your thighs open for him.

The sounds he’s making as he devours your soaked cunt are absolutely obscene, but there’s nobody here to eavesdrop, just the two of you, the wet sounds of his tongue laving at you and the whimpers it draws from your throat.

When you walked here, you half expected to be thinking of Joel the entire time, but he’s a fleeting thought right now. Oh, sure, it hasn’t escaped your memory that you’ve chosen his brother of all people to take your mind off things, but you’re in no danger of accidentally moaning his name.

Then again, you didn’t expect that he’d have you dripping onto his tongue within moments of touching you, either. You gasp out, brace yourself on the counter edge as you feel your climax creep up on you, splinter you apart, thighs shaking beneath his sturdy hands.

All too soon he’s pulling away from you, albeit with an air of reluctance as he gets to his feet, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, dark eyes glittering with lust as your hands find his belt, yank down the zip of his pants.

“All eager for me, hon?” He leans in to kiss you again as your hand wraps around his cock; god, you love how thick he is, the slight curve to him.

“Tasted so good, been thinking about it all day, ever since you got on your knees for me…”

Remembering how he tasted, how good he felt in your throat, makes your mouth water and your pussy ache.

You moan into the kiss, stroke him, try to scoot yourself closer so that he gets the damn hint. Lucky for you, he’s just as eager, wasn’t lying when he said he’d been thinking about you since the other night, has spent the last two nights fucking his own hand, hoping that you’d come back.

Guess luck was on his side. Luck, or some deity who’s just as fucking needy as he is.

He teases you, traces the thick head of his cock along your dripping cunt, taps your clit with it until you half glare at him, wordlessly pleading.

“Fuck.” He groans it as the practical side of his mind kicks in.

“What’s wrong?” You blink at him, suddenly worried you’ve done something wrong.

“Don’t have a condom.”

You shrug. “They expire anyway. I trust you.”

You have a point; while an expired condom is better than nothing, it’s about as foolproof as pulling out anyway. And besides, the thought of fucking you bare…

His cock throbs at the thought.

“I’ll pull out.” He promises you, and he means it. There’s no fucking way he’s risking that, putting you through that.

“I trust you.” You repeat, wriggling again so the tip of his cock is brushing your entrance.

For an army boy, he has a considerable lack of self control, hands gripping your thighs again as he pulls you closer, lines himself up and presses into you in a single fluid thrust of his hips.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he leans you down against the cool surface of the bench, bigger frame caging yours as he starts to move.

You love how big he is, how he fills you just enough to be almost too much, the slight curve to his cock ensuring he hits that sweet spot inside you while barely trying.

Fuck, everything about this feels good, feels right, no longer about being hurt or about anything but sheer need for this man, the precise distraction you needed as you cling to him.

“God damn, hon, you feel so fucking good.”

His voice is low in your ear as he moves, slow, lazy thrusts that build into a steady rhythm, easing you into it, even though he knows you can take it, can feel how wet you are.

“Yeah?” You look up at him with half lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. “This what you’ve been thinking about since the other night?”

He groans softly, presses deep into you, holds himself there and grinds against you.

“Figured any girl with such a sweet little mouth would have a perfect pussy to match.”

He’s still just grinding into you, not actually moving, and you know almost straight away that he’s doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction from you with those filthy words and lazy movements.

Lucky for him, you’re in a giving mood. That, and he just feels too fucking good, it’s been far too long since you had anyone inside you, and god, he knows what he’s doing.

“Did I prove that theory correct?” You tease, smirking.

In answer, he starts to move again, hard and fast, losing what little restraint he had. It’s been a while for him, too. He isn’t really in the habit of sleeping around, not enough that he’s been intimate with someone recently.

That and you’re just so wet and tight around him, soft pussy milking his cock just right, drawing him in deeper, even better than your mouth.

Joel doesn’t know what the fuck he’s missing, but it doesn’t matter because he’s just as good, just as capable, and he’ll take care of you now, the way you deserve to be taken care of, fucked into a needy mess beneath him.

“How about we try something a little rougher, hm?” He won’t push you, but he’s curious, wants to know just how much you can take.

Your hazy eyes flicker with interest.

“What did you have in mind?”

One hand leaves your waist to toy with the buckle of his belt as he considers for a moment.

“Pretty thing, but you’ve got a mouth on you… has anyone ever spanked you?” He stills to barely moving inside you as he speaks, wants you to have a clear head to answer him.

“With their hand, or?”

“No, hon, not just my hand.”

You chew your lip, eyes wide as your gaze falls on his hand resting on his belt, understand what he’s suggesting. It’s not that you like pain, it’s that you like the idea of submitting. Truthfully, nobody’s ever done it beyond using their hand, but you want him to.

He takes your silence for hesitation.

“We don’t have to, don’t feel like you have to say yes.”

“No,” you say, staring him right in the eye, “I want it. I want you to.”

Fuck, can you get any more perfect? Effortlessly he lifts you into his arms.

“Gonna put you somewhere more comfortable.”

His apartment is small, one room and a bathroom, so it’s only a few paces to deposit you on his bed, reluctantly pulling out of you to set you down.

“You want me on all fours?” A thrill rushes through you as you look up at him, as he unhooks his belt and discards his jeans, loops the belt in half in his hand.

He’s holding it in a way that the buckle won’t hit you, only the soft, worn leather.

“That’s right. All fours.” He can’t help but admire the way you move for him, arch your back up so your ass is in the air.

One handed, he grips your waist, pulls you to him so he can tease his cock against you as he moves to kneel behind you.

You whimper, feeling the length of him sliding against you.

“Please…”

You sound so pretty when you beg, he can’t help but give in, lines himself up and slams back into you, buried to the hilt. The momentum drives you forward, hands gripping the sheets to steady yourself.

“I think we’ll start with four, don’t you?” He brushes the soft leather of the belt across your ass. “One for each day and night you kept me waiting.”

He can feel your cunt pulse around him at the words, knows you’re anticipating this just as much as he is.

“Do you want me to count?”

You can’t see it, but he smirks slightly.

“If you can.”

You open your mouth to comment, to suggest that of course you’ll be able to keep count, but then he starts to move again, steady, deep thrusts that feel, somehow, even better than when he was fucking you on the kitchen bench.

A ragged moan leaves your throat the moment he brings the belt down on your ass, arguably a gentle swat. He doesn’t intend to hurt you, has no plan on beating you, he’s practised enough to know how to be gentle and controlled.

“Start counting, sweet girl.”

He doesn’t seem remotely flustered, drilling his cock deep into you.

“O-one.”

“Good girl.” He brings the belt down on the opposite side, making your cunt tighten painfully around him the moment it makes contact.

“Two, fuck…”

He doesn’t bother demanding more from you, brings the worn leather down again, twice more, waits for you to count them out for him.

“Such a good girl. Do you want me to stop?” He can feel you tightening around him, knows how close you are.

“No, please… need it…”

It surprises you, how addictive it is, the sharp sting of the belt hitting your ass, no more painful than if he had used his hand. It leaves prettier marks, though.

“God, so needy… gonna cum for me if I keep fucking you? If I keep spanking this perfect ass?”

He’s honestly losing his own composure, impressed by how well you take him, by the way your tight little pussy milks him, so desperate and needy.

“Please please please…”

It’s all you can get out, that one word, repeated as he slams into you, rough, erratic thrusts, all of his control focused on bringing that belt down on your ass just hard enough to sting, but not to hurt, until he curses under his breath and tosses it aside so he can grip your hips with both hands, pulling you roughly onto his cock.

Your hands fist in the tangled bedsheets, moans and mewls filling the tiny apartment as he hits your sweet spot, again and again, finally bringing one hand down to slap roughly at the marks his belt has left on your ass.

It’s that slap that pushes you over the edge, that and the way that he pulls you up so one hand can roughly palm your breast, toying with your over sensitive nipple.

It’s too much, all too much, and your body shatters beneath him, cunt tightening and fluttering around his cock, pulling him in deeper, responding perfectly to his touch.

He holds you up through it, doesn’t slow, fucking you through every blissful moment of your climax, until you slowly come back to your senses.

“Gonna cum soon, hon. Where do you want it?” His voice is steady, but barely, his own pleasure evident in his expression, in the way his cock aches and throbs inside you.

“Don’t care,” you manage, still dazed.

He considers as he slams into you; you’d look so pretty with his cum all over your bruised and marked ass, and he knows you’re happy to swallow it…

He pulls out of you, flips you onto your back effortlessly, watches the way your tits bounce lightly. There. That’s the perfect spot, marking those perfect tits and soft, sensitive nipples with his spend.

His hand wraps around his cock, strokes roughly until he feels himself getting closer, moves at the last moment so that every drop of the warm liquid coats your tits, watching the way your eyes flicker with lust at the sight.

It takes him a moment to come back to himself, to take in the absolutely beautiful mess he’s made of you.

Your fingers are skimming through the mess he’s made on you, bringing your coated fingers to your lips, tongue darting out to lap at the stickiness.

He groans softly, pulls you into his arms so he can lean down and lick at your hard nipples, sucking on them, uncaring that he’s tasting himself on your skin.

Your eyes are half closed, your ass sore from his belt, pussy aching with satisfaction from how urgently he’d fucked you. Your hand settles in his hair, keeping him where he is, his mouth so soft on sensitive skin, the fact that he’s licking his own spend from your nipples making you want to pull him down to you and beg him to fuck you again.

He could stay there all day, honestly, might have if the door hadn’t opened at that precise moment. Only Joel has a spare key.

“Tommy, are you - fuck.”

Your eyes fly open, meet the gaze of the very man you’re trying to avoid. Trying to forget.

“Christ, Joel, get the fuck out.”

Your body is mostly hidden by his bigger frame, but there’s no mistaking that Joel’s seen your face, a flicker of something in his gaze as he walked in on you, when he saw the raw pleasure in your expression.

“You and her, huh?” Joel looks about as pissed as he sounds. You want to argue, point out that he chose Tess over you, and that you aren’t going to sit around pining over him. But you don’t have to speak.

“Not your goddamn business, Joel. Someone had to take care of her. Now get the fuck out, before I throw you out.”

It shouldn’t mean anything, but hearing Tommy defend you? Lay claim to you? It lights some sort of furnace inside you, makes you feel a warmth that has nothing to do with your recent activities.

For a moment, you think they might fight, but Joel says nothing, just gives you a look before he turns and slams the door behind him.

Maybe once, you’d have followed, but right now? Right now you’re more interested in staying right where you are.

#my writing #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller smut #tommy miller x you #tommy miller fic #Gabriel Luna #the last of us

1K notes · View notes

stealyourblorbos · 1 year

Photo

Tommy’s what we used to call a “joiner”. Dreams of becomin’ a hero. Wants to save the world...

658 notes · View notes

pascalsbby · 9 months

Text

The Devil & His Brother

Prologue

Joel x Tommy x Reader

Summary: 3K / Joel x Tommy x f!reader

The day he killed you is the day you fell in love with him. You died in his arms, just grateful there was a God, wondering why he was on his knees for you, holding you, after you spent your entire existence denying his very own.

The one in where you fall in love, lust, with both of the Miller boys. But only one can have you. Right?

Series Warnings: 18+ mdni, eventual smut. Outbreak, Jackson, slow-burn, angst/comfort, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, drugs/pills/alcohol, threesome, major daddy issues (that’s why you need 2 daddies instead of 1). Talk of death, God, the Devil himself. Girlfriend sharing, cuckholding, begging Miller boys. Probably some shared brotherly words of encouragement, voyeurism, age gap, dominate & aggressive, pet names, praise kink, all holes filled <3, ‘he’ talks you through it, tells you what to do.

Unreliable reader for now- uhhh she’s dying.

“I choked / on such longing I couldn't spit out. Yes, desire is so different / when God bore you hungry.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Warm water soothing an aching throat, cold, sweet fingertips from cherry seeds staining white napkins. His fingerprints burned into your core. Deep red in the corners of your wet mouth, dripping down the side of the horse, painting the snow carmine. The baritone of his voice shaking through the pool of blood, “What’a shame. Hell, woulda made a pretty wife.”

The sweetest part of a cherry is its heart. Suckling, rolling, and removing the fine skin with your teeth. Your skull hitting the ground. Red. You’re scared you’ll choke on it, but you don’t spit it out. You can’t. The sweetness is gone and you’ve accidentally bit your tongue.

The splitting of cherry skin, from teeth to skull. Loud, thunderous around the sound of cicadas screa- no, singing you a lullaby. Hips, swaying.

God humming.

It’s darker now, you can hear the thud of hooves imprinting the cold, every single movement screaming through your being. You were sat atop stretched denim over thick thighs, rugged and hot against the freezing expanse of your exposed skin.

They leave most of themselves behind- stem, seed, head, heart- the cherries. Sacrilegious-ly religious-ish. Or something. Had you known religion? Starstuff sounded better than dirt. Would you die from the gunshot wound or the cold, first?

No. But anything stands in for a cross, especially when he’s sitting there above you vertically, heart opened horizontally. He was looking down upon you, holding you against his body. Floating.

You’re warm, you’re warm, finally you’re—

And your body slackens as your brain does too, from him. From the ground, the sky, the back of this horse. Blue, blue- black. The last rising of your chest, cold air running through the sharp pains in your throat. Mouth dry, silent, slack.

Was this the dust part? You don’t want to say good night to the moon, so you you look up at her and make eye contact with her comforting stare- and you don’t blink- because blinking is returning to the looming darkness. Blinking is allowing the night to take you. The warmth from his body upon yours, melting your body into the ground. The moon is so bright.

And she looks down upon you and whispers, “I’ve got you bunny - I’ll hold your hand and you just think about those stars. How pretty they look right now- jus’ for you.” Even the moon sounded like him.

“We’ll be home soon, baby.” He pleaded.

Home.

A scream. Not one of terror, one of defeat- desperation. Vilely testing through the back of his throat.

A release… comfort.

A death.

Your own.

He was supposed to save you. He was like water- quenching and soothing your aching throat before you drown in it.

Fire, warming you- before burning you alive.

Tears releasing, falling, leaving- before the pain in the back of your throat, slithering to your jaw.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Three resounding gunshots bounced off the distant hills, the thick snow-covered ground. The sound carrying its ominous message far and wide while the silence that followed bore witness to the weight of their deadly intent. Feet, crushing the crystals against the Earth, running from your falling body, rather than to. More than just a pair, moving in the apposite direction. Smaller, smaller, gone.

One sound traveled further, still quivering in your ears, kissing the air around your body as the bullet made a home in you. Your own death tearing from your mouth into the now, quiet, night. Even the cicadas had stopped howling, feeling the force of yours as it tore through your stomach, out of the back of your throat. You rested your head upon the soil and suddenly the ocean was inside of your ears. The mumbling of hurried male voices, anger, present.

The ground was holding you, and it was so cold.

"Mierda,” another beings voice stuck in the thick air, furious at his God. "What the fuck are you doing?”

Their identical voices now filled with resentment, clashed, and you felt like an intruder in your own death. You hadn’t excepted it, but they had. And God was speaking again “- ‘till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” He was blessing you before fate found death and invited her in.

His boots reached your ears last. He was immense, expansive- held shoulders that could carry you to safety, if he so pleased. But he didn’t. You don’t know why God chose today as the day you were going to die… why he was lying about it to one of his most loyal servants. He had shot you. His eyes were the first thing you’d had seen as soon as the barrel of his gun lowered behind the bushes.

You had wished for death so many times, it was almost a relief that this, was it. There was nothing reaching around inside of you pulling your organs closer to the ground. Even though that’s where we mostly end up these days— in ash. Burned, split into stardust. Or thrown on top of each other in endless pits, burned to Earth once more. Entering the world is painful enough. Why can’t we exit it peacefully?

Maybe this was peaceful enough. You were lucky he was here to take you home. Even in his hesitancy. Even in your own confusion as to why he had to take you right now. You’d been alone for three years before this moment. Yes, you were grateful it was him.

It could have been his brother, instead.

But you’d been a good girl, you knew you wouldn’t be meeting the Devil anytime soon.

He wasn’t in a hurry walking towards you, no. The ground was moving under your ear as he disturbed the dirt with the fist of his boot. You had been looking at him the entire time, sideways, face pushed into the dirt where you landed. Your body felt the presence of his before he was back in your eyesight, and suddenly you knew you needed to move. Your mind had accepted death, but your body hadn’t. He could shoot you again, put you out of your misery. But you were too far away from where you wanted to perish. The graves of your family, too far away. It’s too soon to die, please let me get to my family first.

Even God does what he needs to survive his guilt.

There was no remorse in the way his arm slung over the gun, beading sweat running towards whatever it could caress, his other arm resting beside him. He was sturdy, infinite as he rose closer… he knew he was successful in his attempt. His entire figure blurred as tears rolled horizontally down your face. He wasn’t worried that he’d killed you- that was his goal. He was worried you weren’t dead. And that just wouldn’t do.

His overworked cowboy boots were standing before you, kicking up ground into the dusk. His heals clicking louder, shotgun returned to his hand and pointed towards you; he locked his eyes into yours with an unnervingly malevolent gaze. It hurt to move, so you didn’t. You could hear him breathing, wondering for how long you’d be doing the same. At least you were leaving at the hands of God- not from the mouth of a Clicker.

How do they feel dying? Someone had told you a long time ago about how they’re still conscious up there, through it all- taking over the functions and body but leaving the brain to feel. Relief then, probably. To finally return to the ground with their brothers and sisters, not caring if it takes fire and gasoline, and his hands around your neck. You were okay with death if it meant never ending up even further caged inside your own brain. Or the end up in the act of taking someone else’s.

You whimpered at him, unable to move anything but your eyes, so you bore into his. He must have somehow set you on fire, your body scorching and reaching for air as he looked over you. You saw God in just the creases of his eyes— they smile, adorning his warm skin. The wrinkles whispering love songs to the skin they get closer to. “I am moving with you (time)((love)).” Age. Speckled. Small spots turning into stars in a night sky.

His irises were warm, far away, like he’s looked death in face, shaken its hand and kissed it better- and failed, mercilessly. Big and brown, eating away at your flesh. They were so sad, but not for your fate. They were sad that your fate had to be the same as the people he’d lost before. The ones you had lost. How everyone goes these days. He was sad it all turned out this way.

You knew in that moment that he’d seen this before- death. Of course he had. At his age, brows furrowing and light speckled against the darkness of his beard. The creases in his face softened as he looked into you.

He’s seen this before- a young girl bleeding out into the red dirt, fading, whispering away from a dying world. You stare up at him, knowing he is waiting for a response that you didn’t have. Spare me, you thought. His thick fingers curled around the base of his weapon and his knuckles turned white beneath the dried blood and dryer skin. He was contemplating. He was trying to forget.

Your own blood pooling, his knees cracked as he bent down to get a closer look. You felt yourself slipping as his fingers brushed over your skin in an understanding nod.

“I know it hurts, baby.” You may not be able to feel another’s hands, soon. You were weeping. “But I ain’t gonna hurt you sweet thing. Stay still.” The last bit a demand, rather than a suggestion.

He took in your form as your own blood cooled beneath you. He was making a decision. Suddenly, his face pained, burrowing the depth of his pain between his eyebrows. Were you praying to him? Screaming his name in vain? Begging for forgiveness?

He held his hand over you, pausing before reaching you and sinking his fingertips to your flesh, feeling. In the same motion, he lifted your shirt, brushing his knuckles across your side. You felt it. Deep.

He moved on to the legs of your pants, searching for the exact entry point. You wailed when his fingers danced on top of your skin. Eventually losing patience, he flattens his massive hand flesh to you, and slides his hands up your body. There it was, right above your hip bone on your left side. You were going to die. You, now covering him, seeping warmth into the cracks of his skin. Your DNA fusing into his. Your throat hoarse.

He stared down at you for a moment before he let out a sigh and picked you up, grunting at the weight of another human in his arms. He laid you on his lap and you stayed, languidly, letting him do as he pleases. It’s not as if you were really feeling much besides the consistent fire kissing your veins. The very veins that are bleeding onto his lap, seeping into his own cuts- you found yourself contemplating, hoping, there was still more seats left in the Heaven at his feet.

“Shhh, relax baby, stay still. Gonna be j’us fine sweet thing. Patchin’ you up. Gonna find the rest of ‘em then we’ll get somewhere safe, okay? Sun’s settin’. Need you to be still.” He hurried through his words, looking around for who could be inviting themselves into the party after hearing you struggle. He reached for a knife in his pocket and you let out another wail. He winced at its power and tore his sleeve from his shirt, securing and adding pressure ever so slightly to your side.

Them?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, fuck.” He yelled another man’s name and then he was chanting quickly under his breath, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He was doing a sour attempt at controlling his bodily reaction to you as you lie over his lap, soaking his denim in your blood.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt a surreal detachment from the world around you, his cooing voice seemed to slip from your grasp, as if you were drifting away from reality. It was peaceful, until it wasn’t. He was attempting to move you. The sun was setting. For the last time.

“Look how fuckin’ young she is Tommy.” And then another Angel appeared. He was angry as he looked down upon you, but it wasn’t directed towards you. He must have seen it in your eyes, death. “We got you baby. Settle down.” The voice was solid and clear, unlike the other. This was the person he was yelling for.

“I didn’t fuckin’ do it Tommy. I didn’t.” There was pain in his voice. Anger. God spoke and you thought maybe another bullet had entered your skin. You screamed like it had and the warmth spread.

Suddenly God wasn’t as he appeared before. His blood-red appearance contrasted sharply with the angelic figure beside him, his heat poured over your being as the Angel standing next to him wept; both of whom seemed strangely familiar to each other, though not to you. Their faces were disappearing into themselves, blurring.

He sneered into you and you felt it vibrate your bones. Looking as if he was laughing. Or maybe he was screaming. Everything, you, are fading at this point. The caress of the sky, humming lullabies into your hair.

His drawl sounds oddly beautiful running from the tip of his teeth, touching tongue, to the hot mid-July dusk; the mosquitoes riding around on droplets of wet dampenings- the sound settling at the base of your eardrum and running like water towards your center. Than towards your hip bones. He looked different now as he sang you to sleep, brushing his thick, callused fingers down the side of your face, nook of your neck, clearing it from the dirt that has already made a home in your skin. Your matted hair sticking to drying lips, yours.

You needed to focus on something- the slick of his mouth, lips, opening. Tongue running outwards until his teeth bit down. He runs his flattened fingertips against your scalp, trying to calm the pain of fading from the world. He had a mustache, graying facial hair. He was haunting.

There was nowhere else to look, his form hovered above you in contemplation.

Gazing upon him was like glimpsing a celestial being. Maybe the sun, itself, coming down to Earth to scorch it anew. He was red. Fire. He was melancholy, sadness, and so goddamn pretty.

He wasn’t God. He was Lucifer himself- a morning star. Light-bringer. Life-taker. Eenie meanie mini mo. He was heralding the dawn.

The other one, who at first you thought was Angel, must be God. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. But there was something about the one that almost smiled like the Devil. The one cast in red. The one who killed you. Amidst the echoes of their argument, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their anger than just the fact that the pretty one had shot you.

Amidst the confusion and pain, you heard distant voices calling out to you. The words sounded far away, as if you were standing three rooms away, ear against the door.

“Hey-“ it sounded closer now, coming from the emitting light. “Gonna hold you tight now Bunny, don’t move.”

He’s gone, the warmth from his fingertips has set in on their initial touch, burning heat like vines across your arm, stomach. Each bite individually riding its way towards your ears, body, core. You’re put atop something hard. In. Out. Holding less air than the lowered clouds in front of you.

Fire kissing at your stomach, making you wonder if it was from where his hand was sprawled, lower, pushing, hoisting your legs upwards, carefully unto another warm being- a horse.

You were too tired to keep your eyes open. So you closed them and softly said goodbye to yourself. The only words you had spoken, and no one has heard them. They were just for you.

As you close your eyes and slide further into the darkness, you find it almost humorous, the entire story of your death.

Sure, no one told you God was a cowboy, but they never mentioned the Devil was, too. And it seemed a lot more people had met the Devil. Including you.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented on the intro post. Please let me know what you think 🥹 smut happening… SOON! Y’all mean the world!!

Tag List: @worhols @mishasminion360 @justagalwhowrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @romanarose @milla-frenchy @bandluvr97 @alwaysdjarin @basicoccult @hellfyreroz @northernbluess @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pr0ximamidnight @bambydxll @morgaussy @n7cje @theywhowriteandknowthings @gracie7209 @pedritoferg @twirl731 @med494 @k-ra @megangovier20 @rayslittlekitten @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @gintheginger @obscurexsorrows @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @ours-is-a-strange-fate @sarap-77

280 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Text

“an accidental kiss that confuses you both, but only a moment pass before you crash your lips back against each other's”

Tommy Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 853

Warnings- mutual pining, flirting, feelings confession

Notes- Requested by my dear friend @agirllovespancakes for my 4k follower drabble event! Thank you so much I loved writing this and I love Tommy so much!!! I’m so glad you’re back on tumblr too!!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

You let out a heavy sigh as you lifted the box off the ground. Working at the bar in Jackson was hard work, but it was worth it. You knew how lucky you were to have found this town, and it was your way of giving back to the place that saved your life. Normalcy was rare in this world, but you tried your best to make the bar seem as much as life was before the outbreak as possible.

And there was one person in particular that you loved to see all the time.

Tommy sat at the bar several nights a week, his soft eyes following your every move and his bright smile lit up your world. You bit your lip as you subtly flirted with him as much as you could, but you couldn’t be sure if the feeling was mutual.

There were times where his hand would linger over yours just a few seconds longer than it needed to when you handed him a beer. There were times when you were sure he winked at you. There were times where you were sure his laugh was louder than necessary, given you had just told him a stupid little joke.

But did it all even mean anything?

The sun was setting as you assembled your pile of boxes out back. You were alone at the bar, and it was a slow time of day so you took the opportunity to organize some things and fetch a box of beers.

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself as you tried to lift a box that was just slightly too big and too heavy for you. You grunted as you strained your muscles and tried again, but again it was in vain.

With another huff, you tried again, but this time it was lighter. You gasped as you suddenly felt someone’s hands brush against yours as the mystery person helped you from the other side of the box.

“I got it, sugar,” a familiar voice called out from behind the large box.

You let out a sigh of relief as he took the box from you and set up on top of the stack that stood next to him, “My hero,” you breathed as you took in the sight of his taught arm muscles, “Thanks, Tommy.”

He grunted as he gave the box one final nudge and made sure it was secure in place before he took a few steps towards you and playfully nudged your chin, “Anything for my favorite bartender in Jackson,” Tommy gave you a flirtatious smile and a wink, “Need anything else while I’m here?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as a pulse of nerves ran through your veins. Tommy’s effortless charm and kind heart captivated you in no time. Your skin felt warm where his hand brushed against it and you fiddled with your fingers as you looked into his eyes.

“Everything alright?” he asked in concern as you just stared at him lost in thought.

“Oh,” you jumped out of your thoughts, “Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as you fidgeted nervously, “Thanks again,” you reached out and kissed him on the cheek before you even realized your actions.

Both of you froze as you stayed just inches from Tommy’s face. You looked at him wide eyed and mildly horrified. When he didn’t move for several moments, your blood ran cold from fear. Did you mess things up with him before you even fully had a chance?

Just as you were about to apologize, Tommy’s eyes glanced down at your lips and he cupped the side of your face. Without another word, you reached out and gently grabbed the collar of his shirt, clinging to him as the space between your faces slowly closed.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, sweetheart,” Tommy murmured before the dam broke.

You and Tommy moved at the same time and you crashed your lips against the other in a deep and passionate kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck as his other arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. Your arms made their way up his neck as you yanked him even closer.

The taste of Tommy drove you wild, and the chill that settled within you quickly melted away with his kiss. He groaned against you as he devoured you needily. Soft moaned echoed from your chest as you clung to him and kissed him as long as you could before you had to break away for air.

With a deep breath, your eyes fluttered open and you were met with Tommy’s warm and soft smile. The freckles on his face softened his features as he looked at you with pure adoration and you couldn’t help but giggle softly, “I’m glad you were here, Tommy.”

“Well if that’s how you thank everyone who helps you move boxes, I sure as hell am too,” he laughed.

“Only you, Tommy,” you breathed as you chuckled and played with his hair, “It’s only been you.”

“Good,” he placed a chaste kiss on your lips, “Cause I ain’t sharin…”

#tommy miller #Tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller fic #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller fanfiction #gabriel luna #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou #tommy tlou x reader #tommy tlou x you

533 notes · View notes

mdawgswizzleinthehizzle · 2 months

Text

joel miller definitely loves with his whole heart, and i feel like that’s why he’s so closed off to anyone who isn’t family.

aside from just being not that great at expressing his feelings through words, he knows that once he lets someone past that line from “somebody i know” to “somebody i care about”, he isn’t going back and that scares him.

he’s already encountered loss of one of the greatest forms: losing a child. if he does love with his whole heart like i think he does, then i could not imagine the overwhelming fear of that happening again with ellie. she wormed her way into his heart from the very beginning. now he’s locked in. he cares about her, she’s family now, so in his head, it’s now his absolute duty to make sure nothing happens to her.

it’s why he takes “failure” so hard, it’s why he spent so many years looking for tommy, it’s why (in the show) news of tommy maybe being dead was crippling, it’s why he closed himself off for twenty years after his daughter died, it’s why, in those twenty years, tess is the only person he ever really connected with. because when he loves, he loves hard. he protects. he cares. he tends. he lives for others rather than himself.

and it’s equally as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. because we see the toll it takes on him in the game and show. and while we don’t see joel in a romantic relationship, he’d be the same in that sense too. loving with his whole heart. acts of love. tending. protection.

the closest example we get to that is tess, and we honestly see it there. with the way he tends to her after her scrabble with robert and his guys. (in the show) they’re seen laying together in bed and cuddling. joel is obviously insanely protective of her because he has a reputation. robert is scared of him because he knows joel will want to kill him for what he did to tess. he’s like tess’ watchdog during deals.

once you’re in his circle, you’re in for life, and joel is going to make it a priority to love, care for, and protect you in the ways that joel does and can. even if he’s bad at the emotional stuff.

#the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #hbo the last of us #ellie williams #bella ramsey #ellie and joel #tommy miller #gabriel luna #tlou angst #tlou fluff #tlou analysis #tess servopoulos #anna torv #tlou spoilers #sarah miller #nico parker #joel miller x you

64 notes · View notes

wyn-n-tonic · 1 year

Text

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: The Lips I Used to Call Home

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 1392 Warnings: I don't think there are any (let me know if I'm wrong). Author's Note: Title longer than a Fall Out Boy song.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist

Calling Boston to Wyoming a quick shot straight through would be laughable. It would’ve been laughable in the before but it is definitely laughable now.

But to do this with a baby?

It’s not just laughable, it’s a goddamn death wish.

The only way she’s calmest is wrapped up against her daddy’s chest, his large arms folded over her small body. It leaves him unable to do much else but it’s also the only way his own fear leaves his eyes.

There’s luck in the Fireflies, though.

Safe house to safe house, vehicle to vehicle. There’s no thick, rotten scent of the infected near until somewhere in Kansas City.

He feels useless, like he’s unable to protect the baby or you or anybody else. But despite stewing about sitting in the safe house with you and the baby, he does express happiness over the first alone time you’ve shared in about three weeks.

“You should be sleeping, sweetheart,” he says, his voice laced through with a tone that says it’s not a suggestion. “You need your strength.”

The season is giving over from late summer to early fall, every day changing hour by hour with the walking and the driving. It was easy in the QZ, year by year. You knew what to expect, how to rest your body—you could seek rest for your body when you needed.

You need it so much more every day with the way the weather and the travel is going after your body followed by the stress of it all; the complex emotions this entire ordeal is brought on.

This was never a hope in your mind; leaving, going. Your eyes rolled every time Tommy talked about leaving the QZ, it was the subject of so many fights. He believed there was better and you only believed there was death beyond the walls of FEDRA protection. The longer time stretched on after he left, the more steadfast that belief came to the point that you shook with sobs and fear every time Joel made his trips across to trade.

“I'm fine, really.”

The bed beneath you isn’t what you’d call comfortable, not in the before times at least and definitely not in comparison to the worn in lump you were used to back in Boston. You’ve been laying together since the moment you settled into the safe house, everybody else going out to clear paths for the trucks to get through.

Baby babbles through sleep in her father’s arms beside you, not once have you called her by the name you ended up giving her. Not since he showed up. And the belief that beyond the walls means death is so hardwired into your body and brain that you can’t find it in you to sleep. That’s why he’s talking about your strength, sneaks you bits of his own rations.

You’re still breastfeeding, as well. When you can, anyway. It’s been harder on the road and the lack of any real privacy isn’t helping. No matter how he tries to shield your body, the awareness that there’s not just eyes but Tommy’s eyes is enough to run every part of you dry and cold even if it’s getting hotter and more humid with every day you pass into the south.

“You look like shit, sweetheart,” he whispers across the small space between your bodies. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re afraid to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you tell him, eyes darting down to your daughter between you. “I am.”

“I’m right here,” he says, hand smoothing down the hair at the crown of your head. “It’s okay, please rest.”

They’re gone when you wake.

It's just you in a cold and empty bed, a threadbare excuse for a blanket draped over your sleeping body along with his jacket. Alarm bells go off in your brain and then you hear the voices in the next room.

Joel’s.

Baby’s.

Tommy’s.

Nobody else, just them.

“She has your dimples.” Tommy.

There’s a small laugh and then Joel says he’s glad she got them on both sides, not just the one.

Tommy’s voice is tired, weather worn and rough from strain. Not how he sounded this morning when he left.

There’s a hunger in your stomach, growing and aching loud but it stops with every word spoken between the men you love that filters through the thin walls and half cracked door.

“How is she really?” Tommy asks. “Joel, I still love her—“

“How? How can you still love her when you left her alone for so long?”

“How could I ask either of you to come with me if I didn’t?”

There’s an annoyed kind of grumble that could only belong to Joel and then silence that stretches on just long enough to make you think there’s space to move forward into the conversation but then it breaks.

“I wouldn’t say that she’s good, Tommy.” You can hear the way his leg bounces to entertain the baby. “None of us are good anymore but, my God, she’s fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Do you love her?” The younger man asks.

A beat.

Another.

Two more.

“I feel a whole lot more for that woman than just love, Tommy,” he finally says. “I know you’re hurting but you have to understand that I—we thought that you were dead. She hurt for a long time and I watched her do that and I did my best to be there for her but—“ Baby babbles to interrupt him and you can practically see the smile in the laughter that follows.

Those feelings, the existence of them, aren’t new to you. Still, every time he insinuates their existence your head gets light—fuzzy and warm.

“But what, Joel?” Tommy prompts him. “I’m trying to understand this, because I want to not hurt and I want to look at this little girl and not want to cry.”

“Yeah.” A chair creaks and you assume somebody sat forward or back. “I want to look at her and not want to cry, too, but I felt that with Sarah—I feel that with you, Tommy, you might as well have been my first kid sometimes. It wasn’t just me that was there for her through all that hurt over those years, she was there for me and refused to let me pull away. Being with her is the closest I feel to who I was before, I need you to understand that.”

“That's how she made me feel, too,” Tommy responds. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever really understand.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Joel concedes. “Hell, that’s more than fair, you’re probably really sick of us asking you to understand. Can I have Baby back now?”

Confusion floods through you, you were certain the calm, happy babbles were because she was tucked into her daddy’s arm; bouncing on her daddy’s leg.

“Does she have a name?” Tommy asks. “Or have you just been calling her Baby this whole time? I know you’re afraid to get attached, Joel, but—“

“We named her Thomasin,” Joel says, that stern, warning shot in his tone again. Begging his brother to understand this, that this was the honor you could give his memory—that you named what was born out of grief and love for him after him. “We call her Thomi for short but we’ve been thinking about changing it. We figured it would make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Tommy answers. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Hunger grows loud again but so, too, does the blood rush of his words up your neck, into your cheeks and between your ears. For all the tears and all the yelling and the hurt of fresh cuts on closed wounds his arrival brought back into your life, those are the words of the man you once loved. It has been weeks and he is holding her, speaking about her—about you—so gently. Despite saying he doesn’t understand, it’s there in his voice and lacing through every one of his words and it grows stronger each day closer to Jackson.

“I promised her that I’d come back for her, give her a safer and happier life that she deserves,” Tommy starts again. “I’m heartbroken that it won’t be with me, Joel, but I am glad it’s with you.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #gabriel luna character #pedro pascal character #o writes

506 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 9 months

Text

Safe With Me

Pairing: Robbie Reyes x f!reader

Word Count: 10,700+ (you voted and wanted a longer one shot!)

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Notes: Listen, I have it bad for Gabriel Luna. Bad. As in no coming back. And I saw some gifs of him as Robbie (the first role I saw him in), I've been rewatching his episodes of Agents of Shield, and I had to write something. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for giving me an idea that, in typical me fashion, went completely off the rail and became an actual story and not just smut.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Robbie Reyes Masterlist

Bold Italics are the Rider internally speaking to Robbie

Robbie never thought he’d be here, a driver to some rich guy’s daughter. He could feel the Rider, how beneath him the Rider felt that playing chauffeur was. But it was because of the Rider that Robbie was here, trying to get solid information on her dad, to prove he was the secret bad guy…and to bring vengeance.

When he agreed to be a driver for the family, he thought he’d be driving around the man himself, but when his daughter stepped out of the house, Robbie’s eyes went wide and he was momentarily speechless. He hadn’t seen anyone this gorgeous in…well, ever. She walked with confidence to the car and when he tried to open the door for her, she gave him a small smile and stepped around him, eyes roaming over the car.

“1969 Dodge Charger…you’ve made some modifications?”

She knows about cars?

When he doesn’t answer right away, she stops, hand hovering over the hood and looks up at him, her eyebrows raised as she waits for an answer.

“Yeah, uh..yes.”

She nods, glancing back down at the flawless finish. “May I?”

Robbie never lets anyone touch his car. No one.

“Don’t scratch her.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Her fingers lightly brush against the black paint, the car seemingly humming under her touch. Robbie shifts where he stands, like he can almost feel her fingers brush against his own skin.

“She’s remarkable. And you’re sure you’re fine with driving me around in her?” Her eyes meet his again and he swallows hard. He'd thought the request to be driven in a car like his was odd, but he assumed Mr. Rich Asshole was a car guy. He never anticipated that it was his daughter.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She shifts a little, smiling as she glances back down at the car before moving around it to get inside the door Robbie had opened. She pauses before sitting and looks at him, so close he swears he can feel her breath on his face.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I’d hate to put this car in any danger.”

Robbie chuckles to himself as he closes the door behind her. If only she knew how much danger his car got into on a weekly basis.

Over the next few weeks, he takes her various places on a pretty consistent schedule, mostly shopping, occasionally meeting up with some friends, a random night club or two. Robbie finds her fascinating. He assumed that she would be pompous, like most rich people, that she would look down on others and treat them like shit. But she doesn’t. And the more he watches her, the more he sees how her smiles to her friends don’t reach her eyes, how she never wears the clothes she buys, the little sigh that escapes her lips before she steps out and into the club, her dress just barely covering her.

One day, Robbie was elbow deep in a broken engine when his phone rang, the one that he used only for his chauffeur job. He wipes his hands on his coveralls and pulls the phone out, surprised to see her name lighting up the screen. She never needs him on Mondays.

“This is Robbie.”

“Hi, Mr. Reyes. I’m sorry to call you on your day off, but..would you be willing to take me into town?”

He looks back at the engine, disassembled, pieces scattered all around, and she takes his hesitance as a no.

“You know what? I’m sorry, Mr. Reyes. I shouldn’t ask you on your day off. I..I’ll just-”

“No, no. It’s ok. I can come get you. Are you at home?”

“Yeah. When can you get here?”

Robbie glances up at the clock on the wall. “45 minutes?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Ok. I’ll see you then.”

Robbie stares at the phone for a moment before cleaning up and changing, wiping the grease from his face and hands. Why had she called? She seemed a little off.

He got there in 20 minutes with a little help from the Rider.

When he pulls up, she’s there, walking quickly to his car. Robbie jumps out and starts to walk around to get her door but she waves him off. “It’s ok. I got it.” He nods, watching her walk to the car, hunched in on herself, arms crossed and hiding behind sunglasses. She gets in and closes the door, buckling her seat belt.

“Where to?”

“I don’t care, just drive.”

Robbie starts up the car, revving the engine a little because he knew she liked that. The corner of her mouth ticks up slightly into the beginning of a smile and he relaxes slightly, still worried about her.

“My dad hates that sound.”

It’s the first time she’s mentioned her dad, has said anything to him outside of polite conversation and chats about the car.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

She reaches out and touches his arm, lightly squeezing him. “No, please don’t stop.” Robbie stops the car as the gates open slowly and he turns to look at her, trying to see through her sunglasses.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Neva.”

Robbie’s eyebrows pinch together. “Neva?”

She nods, taking a breath. “It’s what my nanny called me. She was Russian. She said it meant snowy, or something like that. I was born during a bad snowstorm,” She clarifies and Robbie nods. Neva removes her hand from his arm and starts to pick at her nails, placing them in her lap. “She was the only one who really cared for me. No one else calls me that name. Probably because nobody cares.”

Robbie is speechless. He has no idea what to say, but he wants her to know that she can open up to him. Maybe she’ll tell him more about her dad, but it’s more than that now. It’s…wait, does he care about her?

“I’m sorry you have shitty parents.”

She laughs then, her head tilting back with the force of it, and Robbie vows to make her laugh as often as he can. As her laughter fades, she takes off her glasses and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“You’re a riot, Mr. Reyes. Thanks for making me laugh.”

He smiles at her. “Is…is there anything I can do for you?”

She stares at him a long time and he hopes she can’t see the warmth in his cheeks that was definitely not from the Rider.

“I doubt you can help, but thank you.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty resourceful.”

She smiles sadly. “I doubt any of your resources could change who my father is.” Robbie opens his mouth to respond when she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t want to hear about my problems… so, do you have a sister or brother or girlfriend or…or someone?”

He studies her for a moment, amazed at how she instantly schooled her demeanor into a completely different emotion, as if whatever the shit was with her dad never happened.

“I have a brother.”

“Just a brother? No girlfriend? Sister! I meant sister.”

He glances away from her, hiding his smirk at her slip up by pretending to look out the window before he turns. “Nah, just Gabe.”

“Gabe. How old is he?”

“High school.”

“Ah. The fun years, or whatever everyone says.”

“What, you didn’t like high school?”

She shakes her head. “Hated it. Everyone was so fake and I just didn’t fit in. Ok, well I mean I made friends but not anyone I’d actually consider a real friend. Just kids of people my dad has connections with or wants connections with.”

“Your dad would use you for that?”

She grows quiet, staring out of the window. “He does.”

Robbie stops at the red light and angles his body towards her. “Hey, you sure you’re ok-”

“Does Gabe need anything for school?”

Robbie stares at her, her eyes pleading for him to take the change of subject. He’d follow her lead this time, but he tucks that information about her dad in the back of his mind. Something wasn’t sitting right with him about it.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re good.”

“That’s not what I asked. Is there something he’s into?”

“He used to be really into soccer before…”

“Before?”

Robbie took a deep breath. “Before the accident…Now he’s in a wheelchair.”

She squeezes his arm again and it makes his whole body feel like a livewire. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr. Reyes. Do you guys need anything? What about any medical bills?”

“We’re fine, thanks.”

She takes her hand away like he had slapped her. “I’m just trying to help.”

He stops at another red light, putting on his turn signal. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…everyone always wants to pity us. But we’re doing fine.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just..have the means to help. If you’ll let me?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Good thing you didn’t then. Now, what sorts of clothes does he like?”

Robbie could tell she was being genuine, not like most people with money who fake it just to use it as a tax write off or a photo op. So they spend the next several minutes talking about Gabe, Robbie telling her some fun stories from their youth as she directs him to a shopping district. He pulls up to an empty spot and parks, getting out of the car and opening Neva’s door. She gets out and smoothes down her pants as Robbie starts to head back to the driver’s seat.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to wait for you like I always do.”

“Oh no. You’re coming with me.” She links her arm through his and Robbie tries to slow down his beating heart, certain that she can hear it through his chest. “I need you, Mr. Reyes.”

“Yeah?” Shit, he shouldn’t have let that slip out. She didn’t mean she needed him, but she needed his opinion.

She squeezes his arm with hers in response, turning her head to look at him, her face inches from his. He swallows hard as his eyes switch between hers, his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. Her eyes flick down to his lips, his breath catching in his throat as she leans towards him ever so slightly.

“Ah, mademoiselle!” The store owner had come outside, no doubt spotting Neva, who frequents his shop. Robbie’s blood boils at the interruption but perhaps it was for the best. He’d almost forgotten that the reason he’s even driving her around is to get more information on her dad.

“Alexandre. How nice to see you.”

Alexandre leans in to kiss her cheek and Robbie feels her grip on his arm tighten slightly.

“What brings you in today?”

“I need some gifts for a friend of mine.” Neva launches into a description of Gabe that is so spot on for not ever meeting him or seeing a picture of him that Robbie is taken aback. Once inside, Robbie tries to extricate himself from her but she holds on tight, pulling him to some racks of clothes that Alexandre was pointing out, pulling things from the racks and tossing them at another clerk, who was frantically trying to hold everything. Once they had it all laid out, Neva turns to Robbie, gesturing at the clothes all nicely folded.

“How’s this? Is there anything he wouldn’t like?”

He can feel Alexandre’s eyes on him, like he knows he doesn’t belong in her world, like Robbie doesn’t already know that. He shakes his head. “I can’t take this.”

“Oh. Is it the wrong size? Or color?”

“No, it’s just…it’s too much.”

“Oh. Does he need another dresser?”

“No that’s not-”

“Mr. Reyes, you told me it was his birthday and I’m insisting on buying him some things. He’s been working hard in school and deserves a reward for all of his hard work. Now, is there anything else he needs?”

Her eyebrows are raised in question: why did she say it was Gabe's birthday? He doesn’t have time to think about that and he knows she won’t accept him declining her offer. “No. No this is more than enough.”

She smiles at him, one that reaches her eyes. “Good. Alexandre?” He’s there in an instant. “Ring me up. Charge my father’s card.”

“Oui, mademoiselle.”

She takes him to lunch next, insisting that she pays as this was supposed to be his day off. They go to some fancy restaurant with food that Robbie can’t pronounce, with portions that are way too small for the price, but they tasted great. Not homemade meals from his abuela great, but not bad.

He pulls up to the front of the house, putting the car in park before grabbing the handle, when Neva touches his arm again.

“Thank you for today, Mr. Reyes.”

He hesitates a moment before placing his gloved hand over hers, meeting her gaze. “You can call me anytime, Neva.” She smiles at him, squeezing his arm before turning, allowing Robbie time to open her door just in case her dad was watching. He can still feel her hand on his arm, how it felt to link her arm in his, how her laugh sounded, the way he made her smile, like it was only for him.

Damn, Robbie. You got it bad.

—----

“How did you find this?” Robbie stares at the car part in the box he’s holding in disbelief. “I’ve been looking for this for years!”

Neva smiles and waves her hand nonchalantly. “I know a guy.”

“No, you don’t understand. This is impossible to find.”

“Obvioulsy not as you’re holding it.”

Robbie looks up at her, a smile sliding into place. “I don’t..this is too much, I..”

Neva pretends to gasp, placing her hand on her chest. “Was I just graced a smile from Mr. Reyes?” Robbie can almost feel his ears turning pink, a little extra heat in his cheeks and looks back down into the box. Neva leans in a little closer to him. “I’ll have to do this more often if it means I get to see that smile.”

Robbie looks up, his eyes meeting hers. She’s close to him now. If he just leaned in a little further, he could press his lips to hers, feel how soft they -

“Do you want to put it in now?” Her eyebrows raise, but not before she glances down at his lips again.

“What?”

Neva nods her head towards the box. “The part.”

Robbie shakes his head, pushing aside the images of pressing her against the side of the car, her leg wrapping around him as they embrace. “Uh…yeah. But after work-”

“I have nothing to do today. Can we go now? I’d love to watch you install it. If that’s ok with you?”

I’d let you do whatever you want.

Robbie tries to hold back the smile he feels coming on, but he can’t. “Hell yeah. Oh, I mean-”

Neva waves her hand. “I don’t give a fuck about bad language. Also, that’s two smiles I got from you. I’m definitely spoiling you more often.”

Robbie pulls into Canelo’s Auto and Body, driving up to one of the empty bays. He hops out and starts looking for tools, gathering what he needs.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

Robbie turns to see Neva standing outside of the car, watching him open and close toolboxes. He realizes then that he’s never mentioned also being a mechanic.

“Yeah. I work here too.”

Her eyes go wide and she nods. “That actually makes so much sense now!”

“What does?”

She gestures around. “The cars. How you’re able to keep her-” she points to the Charger “-so pristine.”

“Yeah. It’s a good place. Owned by good people. I don’t know where we’d be without them,” Robbie returns to the drawers, finding the last tool he needed and closes the drawer. When he turns back around, he freezes, watching Neva remove her outershirt, standing there in a skin tight camisole that hugs her in all the right ways, framing her chest perfectly as she pulls her hair back off of her face. Once her hair is secured, she pats her head a little, making sure she didn’t forget any loose strands. She jumps a little when she sees Robbie staring.

“Sorry! It’s just hot out and-am I making you uncomfortable?”

“What? Uh no. No, you’re, uh..fine.”

Her smile makes his body tingle and he has a short, internal conversation with the Rider, telling him to calm his shit. Robbie sets up his tools, putting the car up on jacks. When he finally lifts the hood, he hears a soft moan from Neva as she steps around, her eyes fixed on the engine.

“Did you do all this work yourself?” She asks, standing so close to him that their arms lightly brush against each other and Robbie desperately wishes he wasn’t wearing sleeves.

“Y-yeah. I had to rebuild her, basically. The car was my uncle’s but he doesn’t need it now.”

She glances up at him. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Robbie chuckles. "Don't be. He's in prison."

"Oh,” She looks down, nervous, at a loss for words. “…well I'm not sure how to respond to that. I'm sorry?" She lifts her head and he can feel her eyes on him.

Robbie turns his head slightly to look at her. "It is what it is." He wasn't about to go into his personal business with her. Not when she's standing so close, smelling like her shampoo of strawberries and coconut. He can’t help it, his eyes flicking down to her soft lips, dragging back up her face to see hers tracing a similar path on his own. He brings a hand to her face, gently cradling her cheek as he slowly leans towards her, feeling her fingers lightly tug at his shirt to pull him closer. Her eyes close-

“Robbie! I didn’t expect to see yo- oh.”

Robbie and Neva spring apart as a man in coveralls walks in, rubbing a dirty oil rag across his matching hands.

“Hey Canelo. I just came in to install this piece.” Robbie gestures towards the box and Canelo glances inside, whistling in awe.

“Holy shit. Where did you find it?”

“I didn’t. She did.” Robbie nods his head towards Neva, who shrugs.

Canelo looks between them both, a smile tugging at his lips. “Robbie, do you really think your date wants to see you work on a car?”

“Oh we’re not-”

“We aren’t-”, they both speak at the same time and Canelo chuckles.

“Actually, I asked him to bring me. I love this car.” Canelo looks at Neva in surprise.

“Oh yeah?” He proceeds to give her a mini quiz, which she aces.

“Robbie, don’t let this one go. She’s a keeper.”

“No, we’re not-”

Canelo waves his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” He leaves, tossing you a wink before heading back into the office. Neva steps back from the car, giving Robbie space to work. He sighs, internally cursing his boss for interrupting that kiss. It would’ve been a kiss, right?

When he drops her off later, after taking the car for a much enjoyed ride, she touches his arm to stop him from getting out and opening her door.

“I think we should talk about what happened. Or, almost happened.”

She regrets the kiss doesn’t she? Almost kiss? We are from different worlds.

Robbie waves his hand, determined to get in front of this so he doesn’t show how her letting him down hurts. “It’s ok. Nothing happened so…”

Her face changes, a flash of disappointment before she expertly schools it. “Very well then. If that’s what you want. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Reyes.” And she opens the door, closing it a little harder than normal behind her. Robbie watches her walk away, feeling like he fucked up big time.

That’s because you did fuck up.

—----

For the next few weeks, Neva is polite, a coolness settling over their interactions after his rejection. He didn’t want to reject her, he wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, begging him for more. But she was the one who was going to stop things so why should he feel guilty?

She didn’t tell you that, you idiot. You made it up.

She asks him to drive her to a party one night, offering to pay him extra since it was after his regular hours. He agreed, of course he agreed. He felt guilty and kept trying to talk to her, but couldn’t find the words.

Don’t forget why you’re really here.

When he pulls up she’s walking out of the house, a snug, black dress that rouches on the sides, a slit going up nearly to her hip, and a neckline that plunges, perfectly framing her chest. She has on black heels and clutches a small black purse that is more for looks than practicality. Suddenly, Robbie couldn’t breathe, watching her walk towards the car, the dress sliding across her skin but never revealing more than it should. She makes it halfway before the Rider snaps him out of it and he jumps out, walking quickly to the other side to open the door. She gets in the car without really looking at him, smoothing down her hair as he closes the door. When they start to drive off, she sighs, setting the small clutch in her lap and leaning her face against her fist as her elbow rests on the door. When the gate is opening, Robbie chances a look at her. She looks phenomenal, but her expression doesn’t match. Her color is a little off, the sparkle in her eyes not really there.

“Are you ok?”

“Mmm?” Neva turns her head to look at him.

“You don’t look good. I mean, y-you-you look..just…but I mean, your face doesn’t…” What the fuck dude?

Luckily for him, she smiles slightly, a small chuckle escaping her. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

His cheeks warm, his ears tinging a slight shade of pink as he stammers on. “I just… I meant that you don’t look into this.”

“This?”

“The party.”

She leans back on her fist. “Oh. Yeah. I’m not really.”

“Then why go?”

She sighs. “Because my dad commands I make an appearance.”

“You don’t have to go, you know.”

She doesn’t look at him, her eyes gazing off at a point in the distance. “I’ve been through worse. I can survive a party.”

He’s quiet for a moment. What did she mean she’s been through worse? “Well if you change your mind, you know how to find me.”

He drops her off, watching her walk into the building that’s crammed with people, loud music blaring and lights flashing everywhere. He drives around the corner, parking just off property so as not to interfere with the valet and waits. He had a feeling. And sure enough, about an hour later she texts him to come get her. They pull out of the drive up and he puts on his blinker at the next light.

“How was the party?”

“Ugh. I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone in this world is so damn fake. And they all seem to want my attention,” she huffs.

“Home then?”

“No way. Are you hungry, Mr. Reyes?”

“I could eat.”

She perks up, sitting a little straighter in her seat. “Great! Take me to your favorite place.”

Robbie chuckles. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Well I like you so I’m sure I will.”

His stomach leaps into his throat. So he didn’t fuck everything up then. “It’s…not your type of place.”

She turns her head, her eyes studying him as he keeps his on the road. “Have you learned nothing about me, Mr. Reyes? Now drive.”

He smirks. “Yes, ma’am.”

He drives across town to his neighborhood, pulling up to park in front of a diner. Neva looks around. “This is it?”

“Told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised your favorite is diner food.”

“And what would you know about diner food?”

“Oh ha-ha. I have eaten at a diner before.”

“Uh huh. How much did a burger cost?”

She punches his arm, fighting the smile that wants to come out. “Shut up.”

He opens the door for her, offering his arm when she goes to get out and she takes it, linking them together.

“Ok so, this isn’t my favorite place. But that one is closed and this is my number 2.”

“You know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Hey, I don’t take just anyone to Bertha’s. They have the best burger in town.” He feels her hold him closer and at first he thinks it’s for the neighborhood, but one mental smack from the Rider and he sees that she’s cold. Taking off his formal jacket, he settles it across her shoulders and she cuddles into it. Robbie swears he sees her smelling it out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t say anything.

As they eat, she opens up more, their flow settling back into how things were. Little flirtations, her hand brushing his, her foot accidentally bumping into his leg over and over, her moaning when she tries the burger. Ok, that last one was just the way Robbie heard it but it counted. In his head, anyway. On their way out, she notices the graffiti on the side of the building next door. She stops, pulling him back by their linked arms to look at it.

“That’s the Ghost Rider,” Robbie explains.

“Who?”

He launches into a generic explanation about the local legend of The Ghost Rider, how he has a flaming skull for a head and seeks vengeance on those who have done wrong.

“And by vengeance you mean he kills them?”

He stiffens slightly. “Yeah.”

“Hhmm…”

“Most people think he’s a murderer.”

“No. I like him. We need justice where there is none.”

Robbie is speechless. No one has ever looked at the Rider like that, at him like that. And she doesn’t even know they’re connected.

I like her, Robbie. Hold onto this one.

You just like her because she said she liked you.

They finish making their way around the back of the diner to the car, and Robbie leans over to open the door for Neva when she pulls him, facing her back to the car.

“Thank you so much for tonight. This is the most fun I’ve had since…well, probably ever.”

“Nah, it was my pleasure.”

She smiles at him, her eyes bright and inviting, making his skin prickle like a live wire. His body is growing warmer, and not from the Rider. She’s so close, her scent of strawberries and coconut filling his nose as she leans closer, her eyes darting down to his lips. He leans too and their foreheads meet, both of them breathing heavily as they stand there, the air around them crackling with tension.

“Robbie,” she says it quietly, but it’s all he needs.

Robbie’s hands come up to cup her cheeks, turning her head up to him as he presses his lips to hers, feeling her sigh, her body relaxing into him. He glides his tongue across her lips and she parts them instantly, silently begging him for more. His lips never leave hers as he puts a hand out, walking her backwards into the side of the car. Her fingers twist in his shirt, pulling him closer before she slides them around his broad back, trying to grip him anywhere she can. He drops his hand to the back of her knee and lifts it on his hip, her gasp breaking their kiss. He takes advantage of this, turning her head to the side and kissing the side of her neck, sucking on a spot just below her ear. She moans and Robbie gasps against her neck, feeling her skin pimple under his lips.

But then she’s pushing him back and Robbie stumbles, his eyebrows furrowing together. Did he misread the situation? No, she wanted this as much as him… His brain goes fuzzy as he watches her walk around the car, gently setting her ass against the hood as she looks at him, her eyes wide and dark with want, her eyebrow arched, begging him to come closer.

He’s there in less than 2 steps, hands cupping her face again as he brings his lips to hers, feeling warmth fan out from where they touch. His hands slide down her, taking in every curve of her body before he grips her ass, moaning slightly into her mouth before lifting her to set her on the hood of the car, her legs automatically opening and wrapping around him, trying to bring him closer. He leans her down, her back against the hood of the car as he continues to kiss her, lips soft and needy. Her fingers fumble at his belt line and he finally snaps out of it. Robbie pulls back and grips her wrist, looking down at her.

“I…this is not…I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

A smile crinkles up her eyes and Robbie feels it in his bones. “You’ve thought about us before? Our first time?”

“Oh, I think about you all the time, chica. I want the space and time to take you apart.”

She whimpers, his pants feeling a little tighter at the sound. “Fuck, Robbie. I want that too but right now, I don’t care about where we are. I want you. I need you.” Her eyebrows pinch up in question, fully leaving it up to him.

He smiles. “I can’t say no to you.”

He lays his body against hers, sliding his hand up her bare thigh while propping himself up with the other, his elbow leaning against the hood. He doesn’t kiss her, choosing to watch her expressions as his hand ghosts across her cool skin, disappearing under her mini dress. He ghosts his fingers across her underwear, chuckling when she jolts at his touch. Her fingers grip his forearms, nails trying to dig through the sleeve of his shirt as he draws light circles over her clothed cunt, her breathing coming out in ragged gasps.

“Please,” she begs, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, he dips his finger under her pantyline, sliding it down her wet pussy, tracing light circles at her clit. “Oh!” She gasps, trying to hold back her sounds because they are in a parking lot. Robbie had completely forgotten their pretty public display. His hand stills and she huffs, her lip coming out in a pout.

“Are you sure, chica? We’re pretty out here.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I need to feel you inside me, Robbbie,” She blinks up at him with a fire, not too different from the one he feels blazing behind his own gaze. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, Neva.”

Robbie sits back, fingers deftly opening his belt and pants just enough to pull himself out, groaning as his hard cock springs free. His skin is warm and he swallows hard, trying to get himself to cool down a bit. But then he sees her, moving her panties aside for him and, while he can’t see too clearly due to the lack of proper light, he can see that she’s fucking gorgeous, somewhere he will have to explore when he has the space to. Lining himself up, he looks down at her and pushes in, clamping a hand over her mouth when she lets out a high pitched, loud, moan, and it’s all he can do to not join her as she envelopes him, her heat wrapping around him perfectly, like she had been waiting just for him. When he bottoms out he waits, hips joined close together as she catches her breath. She looks up at him, pleasure radiating out from just her gaze alone, a gives him a nod. He pulls his hips back and slowly slides in again, groaning at the feel of her as he slots his hips against hers. He adds in an extra deep thrust and she cries out, trying to swallow her own moans as Robbie hones in on that spot, thrusting deep and hard against her. Neva starts to slide up the hood of the car, her dress doing nothing to hold her in place. Her fingers grip his sleeves, trying desperately to find something to hold her in place as Robbie continues to thrust into her.

He’s about to stop, give her a moment to grab something when her hand shoots out, gripping the raised engine of his Charger. Instantly his skin heats, feeling like he’s about to catch fire at the sight of her digging her fingers into the metal, her other hand gripping his as he pushes it to the side of her head, knuckles clanking against the dark metal. His body is tingling and he shakes his head to clear it when he feels her raise her legs higher, digging her heels into his ass and lower back, trying to get him deeper.

He growls, pressing a hard kiss to her lips before pulling out, grabbing her ankles and sliding her down the hood, her gasp turning to whimpers as he grabs her hips and flips her, pushing her chest down against the cool metal of the Charger. He pushes into her quickly, feeling himself warm instantly as he speeds his hips up, thrusting extra hard when he’s fully inside of her. Neva’s hands scramble across the car, looking for something to hold onto and she finds the engine again, using it to help her push back against him, bringing him slightly deeper than before. His skin is ablaze, his thoughts racing, mixing with the Riders as he fucks her, warning him mentally to back off, unsure how long he’d be able to keep him at bay when he’s worked up like this.

Then she pulses around him, his name tumbling from her lips over and over as she cums, squeezing him tightly, trying to keep him inside of her. He feels his balls tighten, his skin starting to lightly glow and he grunts, cumming hard as his hips jut into her soft ass, his hands squeezing her hips to keep her in place. He keeps his eyes closed, feeling his release wash over him as he simultaneously tries to fight back the Rider, who does eventually back down. Robbie looks down at Neva, her back heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Still seated snuggly inside, he leans over and pushes the hair from her cheek, moving in to kiss her there. Instead, she turns her head more, finding his lips with her own, as if she were trying to keep him there a little longer. The kiss breaks and Robbie pulls out with a grunt, tucking himself back into his pants.

“I don’t know if I have anything to clean you up-”

She chuckles, cutting off his sentence. Sitting up, she sways and Robbie catches her, pulling her close.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind feeling you between my thighs.”

His ears are hot, silently begging the Rider to stay put. “I plan on spending a lot of time between your thighs.”

“Ugh how are you so fucking hot?” She pulls him down to her, her nails scraping against the back of his head, his arms wrapping around her.

“You’re so warm,” she sighs, cuddling into him.

“I run hot.”

“Yeah you do.”

Robbie drives her back home, but not before she tells him to pull over, hopping into his lap and riding him until they’re both screaming the others name.

—----

The next few weeks are spent tucking themselves away from prying eyes, Robbie practically living between her legs, pulling every sound he can from her. It becomes a little easier to keep the Rider at bay while he’s buried inside of her, but he’s not sure if he can always hold him back, which terrifies him. Neva doesn’t know about the Rider, about his secret. Would she even accept him?

It’s his night off, Neva having some sort of engagement to go to, a car sent to pick her up. Robbie slides a bowl of mac and cheese across the table to Gabe, who picks at it with his fork.

“What?” Robbie asks, a mouthful of mac and cheese.

“It’s nothing.”

“You too good for mac and cheese now?” He smirks, but drops it once he sees Gabe not smiling.

“Gabe?”

“It’s just…you always put hot dogs in it before.”

Robbie smiles softly, schooling his face as he stands up, grabbing his brother’s bowl. “Alright, your majesty. Would you like them cut in cubes or circles?”

Gabe punches him in the arm. “You’re an ass.”

—-

Robbie jolts awake, his phone ringing loudly as is vibrates on his nightstand. Rubbing his eyes, he quickly glances at the time - 1am. No good calls come this late. He feels the color drain from his face when he realizes it’s his work phone, the one that Neva calls. He picks up, hoping that it was just her letting him know she made it home ok. She had promised to do that.

“Hey, chica.”

She takes a moment to answer and Robbie straightens up, sensing something is wrong.

“Nev-”

“Please come get me,” her voice is barely above a whisper, harsh and rough, not sounding at all like the whispers she presses into his ear when he’s buried inside of her. His phone pings but he ignores it.

“Where are-”

The phone clicks off, but not before he heard a yell from her, a terrified yell, a pleading yell. He glances down at the phone and sees she had dropped her location, a red dot pulsing up at him from the map. He grabs his jacket, jumping into the Charger, feeling the fire blaze in him.

If anything has happened to her, we will get justice.

“You got that right,” His eyebrows furrow together in anger, his foot pressing into the gas as he makes his way across town in record time. He pulls up to the gate of a large estate, the guard taking his time coming over to him. Robbie tells him he’s here for Neva and the guard lets him in, the gate sliding shut behind him. He pulls right up to the front door, his car angled for a quick getaway if needed. His skin is on fire as he opens the door, striding over to the front door, raising his fist to knock when he hears her scream, pleading with someone to stop. Without thinking he kicks open the door, taking several large steps inside towards her voice and the sound of something hard making contact with her skin, a scream coming out every time it slaps against her. When he enters the room he sees her on the floor, blood smeared across her as her body curls in on itself, shielding her face with one hand, the other outstretched towards the man towering above her, riding crop raised above him, begging him to stop. Robbie’s skin lights up, eyes turning to fire as his skin melts away, the Rider pushing his way out.

—-

Neva, Earlier That Night:

“You will attend the gala with Mr. Fortier and attend his party after.”

I nod, familiar with this game having been forced to play it my entire life. My dad says me attending these things with these men, powerful men as he says, helps his business endeavors, which in turn helps the family. That I need to do what I have to for the good of the family.

Of course, he’s not the one to have to endure them.

Showing up, being glorified arm candy clutching to the sleeve of some powerful man or his son, having to discreetly slap away their unwanted touches without upsetting them, having people ogle you like you were just another pretty face, like you were just a piece of furniture, really wears on you. But what else can I do?

I never liked going to these events, showing up with these people, but especially now that I have Robbie, albeit secretly because there’s no way my father would approve of me being with “the help”. I despise them. I begged my father not to go but he wouldn’t hear of it, slapping me across the face when I initially said no. I dabbed on a little extra concealer to hide the redness from his palm and painted on a smile for Mr. Fortier.

The evening progressed as they usually do. A gala meant a beautiful gown, one that was worth more than most people make in a year, hand holding onto the arm of the man of the evening, Mr. Fortier, as he smirks, loving the attention he gets showing up with me on his arm. His hand rests on my thigh under the table at dinner and it turns my stomach. He starts to squeeze, his nails digging into my skin slightly, so I discreetly place my hand over his, squeezing it back like I wanted to hold hands, choking back the bile that threatens to spew from my mouth as he gives me a smile.

We dance, his hand sliding a little too low for my comfort so I ask him to spin me, just to get away from his touch for a moment. The money for whatever charity this gala was sponsoring was made, everyone cheering like they made their donations to actually help the charity and not just for the tax write-off. I scan the room, seeing many faces that I know my father has done business with behind closed doors, illegal things that I’m not supposed to know about but I’m too smart to not realize that my dad is not a good man.

Mr. Fortier asks me into his house after the gala for drinks and I initially decline, wanting to get home and scrub this night from my body, but when he persists, I remember my father telling me I will attend his after party. So I accept, a fake smile on my lips as he takes my hand, leading me inside. Once he has me in the living room I sit at his request, watching him walk to to his drink cart, offering to make me a drink. I decline the offer, saying I had too much already and he shrugs, raising the glass to his lips. It’s when he’s drinking that it starts to sink in - the silence of the house, the lack of movement even from staff, nothing to indicate an after party. I don’t even remember him telling other people there’s one at his house.

I feel the color start to drain from my face as I realize what might happen next. It’s happened before, my father delighted with the extra money he earned from me. I didn’t realize it at the time, certain that the men had actually cared for me as I did them, so it hurt even more when I realized they’d done it for money or whatever deal my father promised them. They were my age and we were young, I was naive, believing in love and falling for slick words and touches I’d never had before. When I found out, I confronted my dad, who initially denied everything. I wanted to believe he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t putting on a show by telling these men to fuck off. But several months later, I would see them leaving the house, shaking hands with my father.

I’d confided in my nanny, who held me close and told me that something similar had happened to her, except it hadn’t been her choice like it was mine. But then she told me about a secret herb to put in their drink, basically to knock them out, and then I could set the narrative. I graciously took the herb and it had been successful. Whenever anyone got too handsy, I’d offer to make them a drink, lacing the liquid with a dash of the tasteless herb, feeling a little too triumphant when they slumped over just a minute later.

But this time, it’s too late. He’s already had a drink, placing the glass back down on his cart as he makes his way back around the couch to me. If he senses that I’m on to him he doesn’t let on, and he may not. Oscar winning actors have nothing on me. He sits next to me on the couch, leaning back and putting his arm along the backside of the couch.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, his eyebrows raised.

I nod. “Of course. It’s always nice to have a fun time and raise money for charity.”

“That’s what I like about this particular gala. The money actually goes to the cause and not someone’s pocket.”

An asshole with a conscience? That’s a first.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Fortier.” I glance at the clock on the wall, ornate filigray design set into the darkened wood. “Oh - it’s actually getting late. I need to be getting home.” I go to stand but he puts a hand out in front of me, preventing me from standing.

“You don’t have to go so soon, do you?”

I swallow down the scream that’s been echoing around my head and try to put on my best apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fortier, but I do.” I go to stand, but his hand doesn’t move.

“How will you get home?”

“I’ll call a car.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll have one of mine drive you home. Give me a moment to call them.”

I nod, not comforted by his words. It’s the way he’s looking at me that’s making me feel icky, like I want to run from the house and not stop until I’m home. Or at Robbie’s. Do I even know where he lives?

“Please have a car ready for our guest…Thank you.” He hangs up the phone and I throw him a hopefully convincing smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Fortier, for a fun night. I’m glad the fundraiser met its goal.” I move to stand when his hand tightens around my wrist, his ring digging into my skin.

“Your father promised me your time after the gala. To do what I want.”

I look at him, trying to swallow down my fear and channel all of my confidence into my gaze. “Please let me go, Mr. Fortier.”

“I will get what I want.”

“Mr-”

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes across the quiet room, my cheek stinging with the contact as my head whips to the side. My hand instinctively comes up to my cheek, cupping it as I turn to look at him, his grip somehow tighter.

“Please, Mr. Fortier, I don’t want-”

He shakes his head. “No, you stupid girl. I don’t want to have sex with you. I have other…desires that I need to release.”

I swallow hard, not really sure what he means, but trying to take solace in the fact that he’s not wanting to take me.

“What -” My whole body is wrenched forward, face slamming against the hardwood floors as he throws me to the ground. He kicks me once, hard, and I nearly vomit, his dark chuckling getting louder as he squats next to me.

“Like I said, I have no interest in having sex with you. But putting marks on something so beautiful?” His finger graises my cheek and I flinch. “Well, that’s the fun we’re going to have tonight.”

Pain. That’s all I know for what feels like forever, my skin splitting open open over and over, bones never quite breaking but on the verge of, hair being pulled from my scalp. He meant what he said. He never touches me sexually, never makes any indication of wanting that. I can feel myself in danger of blacking out, desperately trying to cling to consciousness despite my body wanting to shut down to ease the pain. After he throws me to the floor again, my body sliding across the floor, I hear him leave the room, telling me stay put. I lay there, feeling the cold floor slick with some of my blood, my brain screaming at me to run while I have the moment, but I know I wouldn’t make it far, and that it would be worse for me if I attempted it. Something digs into my side and I realize it’s my clutch, having fallen from the couch when I was initially thrown. Wincing at the pain, I grab it, sliding it across the floor to my head. I fish out my phone, keeping one eye on the open door as I blink at the screen, unable to make out any numbers. Luckily, I only need one. Pressing the speed dial slot 1, I wait, praying to whomever is listening that Robbie is awake.

“Hey, chica.”

I nearly break down at his voice, a light shining through the darkness I’ve been pulled in.

“Nev-”

“Please come get me,” I choke out, trying to be quiet but clear. I drop my location to him when I hear Mr. Fortier’s footsteps coming back into the room.

“Where are-”

He grabs my ankle and I scream, eyes going wide as I see the riding crop held in his other hand, pleading with him to just let me go. I’m not sure how much time passes but in the back of my mind I hear him, the Charger, unmistakeable in its sound, pulling up to the house. Mr. Fortier doesn’t seem to notice, too involved in whatever sick pleasure he’s gaining from this as he raises the crop to me again and again. I cover my face, raising my arm out weakly to try and stop him, begging him to stop.

And I feel him, Robbie, barging into the room, the last thing I see before passing out is his eyes, full of fire, blazing orange as he shifts, heat enveloping the room, somehow comforting me as I black out.

—----

Neva:

I remember waking once since that night, very briefly, bright lights shining down into my face while gloved hands and a person in a white coat moves around me, poking and touching my skin where Mr. Fortier had left his mark. I remember my pulse speeding up and then he’s there, Robbie, holding my hand and pushing hair back from my face, telling me he’s got me, that I’m safe. Then I black out again.

My eyelids flutter open and at first, I’m certain I’ve gone blind. But then my eyes adjust and I realize that I’m in a room, a bedroom, and that it must be night because the room is nearly pitch black, a quiet nightlight plugged in on the other side of the room, making just enough light to see the floor. As my brain catches up to me, I start to make out shadowy shapes from around the room, a taller one that must be a dresser, a smaller one that most likely held books or a tv. I’m in a bedroom, not a hospital room, and certainly not my own room.

I slowly flex my fingers, making a fist and opening them back up against the sheets and I notice the weight next to me. Slowly, my head pounding slightly, I turn to look and see Robbie next to me, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, a quiet snore emanating from him. God, he’s beautiful. The man I trust most in this world. Actually, the person I trust most-

Wait. Did his head turn into a flaming skull? Was he Ghost Rider? That had to be a pain hallucination. Right?

He jolts awake, his eyes finding mine and, seeing that I’m awake, he sits up, shaking his head quickly to rid it of sleep.

“Hey, chica. How are you feeling?”

“Ok, I think.” My throat is raw and then he’s holding up a glass of water, a bendy straw sticking out of the top and holding it to my lips.

“Small sips, ok?” I do as he says, the water helping to abate the raw feeling.

“How long?”

“Just a couple of days. I took you to a guy I know to get you checked out after you begged me not to bring you to a hospital.”

That explains the bright lights and white coat.

“He said you’ll be fine, that nothing was broken but you’re severely bruised, several cuts needing stitches, and that you’ll be sore for a bit. I do have some pain meds here if you need them.”

“Did…did anyone look for me?” I say this already knowing the answer.

“I…no. Well, you got a text a day or so ago, but I didn’t look.” He leans back and grabs my phone off the nightstand, handing it to me. I unlock it, navigating to the text app and, sure enough, there’s the text from my dad.

Dad: You earned us an extra 7%. A job well done.

I roll my eyes, trying to swallow back the anger and bile in my throat as I hand Robbie back the phone. His eyes glance down at the screen where I’ve left the text up, his eyes almost glowing orange as his brow furrows together in anger.

“What the fuck?” He asks, looking up at me.

I try to sit up but my body screams at me, forcing me to stay put. He takes my hand, rubbing little circles into the back of it with his thumb. “It’s ok, Neva. Just stay put.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. And then I tell him everything, how my father treated me my entire life, how I was forced to wine and dine these men or their sons, how I was able to fight most of them off with herbs given to me by my nanny, how twice it had come to more than business and how stupid I was for believing those men, even though they claimed to love me still after I found out, but the trust had been broken. How I missed the chance tonight to give the herb to Mr. Fortier, how I’ve been hurt before but never like this. I don’t look at him when I tell him, but his hand never moves from mine, squeezing it harder with every detail I give him. By the end, I’m surprised to find tears on my face, Robbie reaching up to swipe them away for me.

“So I’m not surprised no one is looking for me. My dad always sends an update text like this, that what I’ve done for the family was worth it. 7% though? If my dad saw me, he’d negotiate for at least 8%.” It was meant to be funny, trying to lighten the tension, but Robbie didn’t laugh. Or smile.

“Your dad is a bad man.”

I nod. “I’ve known that for quite a while, Robbie.”

“Why didn’t you leave the family then?”

That’s a loaded question. “I guess it was easier to stay. I was raised to do this, Robbie. By the time I’d realized how fucked up it was, my dad’s reach was far. I had no one, aside from my nanny whom he sent back to Russia. I trusted no one, resigned to my fate. And then…you. From day one you made me, no make me feel safe. Like someone cares about me, that I won’t just fade into nothing. You’re my hero, Robbie.” I finally chance a glance up at him, expecting a smile or something, but instead, I’m met with a guilty look, an undeserving expression on his face and he doesn’t look at me.

“Robbie?”

“I’m not a hero.”

I squeeze his hand. “You are. You literally saved my life that night.”

He shakes his head. “That wasn’t me.”

I scoff. “It was you who walked through the door, saw me, and it was you who pulled me from that…wait was the house on fire?”

He’s quiet for a few minutes and I give him the space he needs. He shifts next to me, making sure I can see his eyes.

“I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. Not even my brother, ok?”

I try to move again, but my body retaliates, pain radiating out from where I moved. “I promise. You can tell me anything.”

“Just…know that I feel safe with you, that it’s you who saved me. I don’t deserve it. Don’t argue, just listen, ok?” He takes a deep breath. “I’m Ghost Rider. Well, he is in me.”

“...the guy with the flaming skull head, right?”

“That’s him.”

I let out a small laugh of relief and his eyebrows pinch together. “Why are you laughing?”

“No, it’s just…I saw you...well him? Right before I passed out and I thought for sure I was going crazy, that maybe I’d hit my head too hard. God, this is a relief!”

He studies me for several long moments. “I wasn’t expecting this reaction, you sure you’re ok?”

“I feel much better now that I know my brain isn’t severely addled.”

“I tell you that I turn into a murderous being with a flaming skull for a head and your reaction is ‘oh thank God I’m not crazy’?” The corners of his mouth tick up and then he’s full on smiling. “You’re loca, Neva.”

“Maybe. But you said he’s in you? I don’t understand. Are you not an inhuman then?”

Robbie watches me for a moment and then shakes his head. He launches into an explanation, about how he was out car racing when the Fifth Street Locos attacked his car, on a hit for his uncle, how Gabe, who had simply caught him leaving the house late at night and Robbie convinced him to come along, had a bullet lodged in his spine which means he’d never walk again. How he himself was flung from the Charger, body riddled with bullets, when a voice offered him revenge and he accepted, his body reanimating and healing. How he did seek vengeance, taking out not just that gang but other people too, the Rider coming out to burn them alive, that he only took out those who deserved it. That he did burn down Mr. Fortier’s house, after taking care of him himself, to make it look like an accident.

“When I walked in and I saw him standing over you, I just lost it. The Rider too. That’s what you saw.”

I squeeze his hand harder, placing his palm on my chest. “Is that why you’re always warm?”

“Pretty much.”

“I stand by what I said before. You’re not a murderer, Robbie. You don’t kill innocent people. They deserve what they’ve gotten, I’m sure…Is it… could I talk to him?”

Robbie raises his eyebrows. “You wanna talk to him?”

“I just want to thank him personally for his part in saving me? If that’s ok.”

He watches me for a long time, like he’s having an internal conversation with himself and it dawns on me, he probably is. Just with the Rider.

“Ok.”

Robbie stands up, taking a step back from the bed, his bed, his eyes on mine. And then they’re blazing orange, like fire itself, his skin peeling back as the skull emerges, embers and flames raising from that face that holds my heart. The Rider stands there, lighting up the room as he turns his face down to me, flames licking out from where his eyes should be.

“Thank you.”

He nods, a single nod before the flames were being extinguished, skin growing back piece by piece and then Robbie’s back, immediately coming to my side, hesitating in taking my hand.

“You ok, Neva?”

I nod. “Better, now that I get to see your face.” I grunt through a little pain to bring my hand to his cheek, fingers touching the spots where I know his freckles lay. Those freckles that are the death of me.

“You’re after my dad, aren’t you?” It slips out, this thought I’d had once he told me about the Rider. And honestly, it all makes sense. He never seemed the chauffeur type. I just thought I had been lucky to find the one random, hot man driving one of my dream cars that actually wanted to drive people around in it.

“Nev-”

“It’s ok. I know he’s my father, technically, but he’s never been my dad.”

“Will we be ok?” Even though the room is dark, I can see his eyes, wide and worried, eyebrows pinched together. I manage to slide my hand up to that spot, trying to smooth away that pinch with my fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He visibly relaxes, sliding himself next to me and gently wrapping himself around me, his nose nuzzling in my hair as he inhales, all while I’m inhaling him where my face is against his broad chest.

“Can you just…wait until I’m better?”

“Did you want to see him?”

“What? Oh no. I just want Nurse Robbie to take care of me.”

He chuckles and my head bounces slightly with it, the rumbling there lulling me back to sleep.

“Nurse Robbie is on duty.”

—----

3 months later…

Her dad was gone, the Rider had left his mark that day. Her mom had fled the country, taking every asset she could, seemingly leaving Neva with nothing. But of course, Neva was smarter than that, tucking money away for literally years, always using her dad’s credit when she needed something. She had more than enough to live comfortably the rest of her life, not filthy rich like before, but more than comfortable, eventually wearing down Robbie with her pleas of “just let me spoil you and your brother”. She’d gotten them a new place in a good part of town, pulling strings to get Gabe into a really nice school that would look great on his college applications.

When Robbie insisted he stay at Canelo’s in order to stay in the know about what was happening, in case the Rider needed to come out, she followed him, surprising Canelo himself with her extensive knowledge of cars. Her presence attracted new customers, much to the delight of Canelo.

But today was a slow day and her target was Robbie.

“Would you just hand me the wrench already?” Robbie smiles, his hand outstretched as Neva clutches the wrench to her chest, an impish smirk on her face as she shakes her head.

“Come and get it.”

He chuckles, standing with a slight grunt as his muscles stretch. “Oh you wanna play, chica?” Robbie

He lunges towards her, hands outstretched, smile on his face and she squeals, trying to run with the wrench but it’s shape making it awkward. She drops it and slows momentarily, thinking Robbie would stop but then he’s there, covering her mouth as she squeals again, smiling into his gloved hand as he pushes her into the office, locking the door behind him before giving her his own version of teasing, her fingers twisting through his hair, his name a quiet chant on her lips, and Robbie knows there is nowhere he’d rather be.

—----

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#Robbie Reyes #Robbie Reyes x you #Robbie Reyes x f!reader #gabriel luna #agents of shield #aos #marvel #ghost rider #Robbie Reyes x female reader #Robbie Reyes x reader #agents of shield fanfic #agents of shield ff #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters #gabriel luna character fanfic #gabriel lunal character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

162 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Lie To Me - Gabriel Luna x Reader

Summary: Y/N does the vanity Fair lie detector test and it gets dragged out of her that she has a raging crush on her co-star Gabriel Luna

Words: 1.5k

Warning: none

Notes: If you have any Gabriel stories you want me to write please ask, there's not much content on him online so he’s a lot harder to write for him but I'm not gonna stop as he needs the love ❤️

“Is your full name Y/N Y/M/N(s) Thornberry?”

“Yeah that’s correct, pronounced right as well. Props to you.”

“Are you an actor?”

“I’m definitely something. An aspiring actor feels more accurate, The Last of Us being my second big role really.”

“Are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“Yup and I’m shitting myself about it! Can I swear? I can swear right?”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Look at this? I’m hooked up to the machine and neither of you seem to like to smile. Like at all.”

“We shall start with the category of your career.”

“Alright, starting big.”

“Some would say Supernatural was when you really became famous and a fan favourite, do you think you’re the best Winchester?”

“Oh no, I’d say I’m the least favourite, joining in season-“

“She’s lying.”

“Wait what? I am?”

“Do you think you’re the best Winchester?”

“No, that would be Dean. I’d say I’m the second best, sorry Jared.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Was there a lot of pressure coming into the show so late?”

“I wouldn’t say pressure as Jared and Jensen made me feel right at home almost immediately. It was scary seeing the fans of the show react to Eleanor being brought in so late and so suddenly but the initial response blew me away and I could ask to be part of a better fandom.”

“There a lot of fan accounts for Supernatural, do you ever look at any of them?”

“Actually I do, my best friend Pedro and I like to send each other videos and memes we see made of each others characters or if we see any that are really amazing. There are some really good editors out there who really put Nell and Maria in such a beautiful and badass light.”

“Do you have a favourite account?”

“Yeah actually… Ummm, Pedro and I send a lot to each other from an account called Lunaberry4life with the for being the number 4.”

“So you play Eleanor Winchester in Supernatural, did you ask to wear flannel?”

“Did I ask to wear flannels? I love the Winchester flannels and some of them may actually be in my wardrobe at home. The costume crew do such an amazing job with making me feel comfortable in everything I wear as well as capturing the badass nature of Nell.”

“So you would say you’re a fan of flannels?”

“For the show and what they represent with the fandom yes but as an everyday item I’m not sure. I’m more of a fan of sweatpants or jeans and a casual tee shirt or sweater.”

“You were a barista before you became an actress correct?”

“Yeah, I adore coffee. Can’t live without it really and so I became a barista before I got dragged into the acting world by probably one of my best friends, the lovely Barbara Palvin or as I get to call her: Barbie.”

“Who would you rather invite to your birthday party? Barbara Palvin or Pedro Pascal?”

“I wouldn’t have one if I couldn’t invite them both. In their own ways they’ve become very special to me and I couldn’t do it. I don’t have the heart to go without one of them. I’m a little selfish like that, why have one if you can have both?”

“Would you invite me?”

“Yeah…?”

“She’s lying”

“So you just finished filming The Last of Us, correct?”

“Yeah, it was a really great experience, being able to meet and act alongside such great actors like Pedro and Bella. Bella is a force to be reckoned with as she has this fire I wish I had when I was her age and I can really see her taking over the world.”

“Who did you enjoy working with the most from the cast?”

“Probably Pedro as he’s just so sweet and sincere. I never expected a man as famous as him to be so humble, he was always able to make us laugh, especially when filming those really intense scenes. That man has a habit of randomly emoting!”

“That’s a lie. Pedro being her favourite, not about Pedro.”

“Are you lying?”

“No…?”

“Yes.”

“Who did you enjoy working with the most from the cast?”

“Well I did enjoy spending time with Gabriel Luna, he’s just an all around person and I loved playing his wife. He’s get such an addictive personality and would always manage to help me calm down whenever I got too anxious and I will say those curls are so fucking cute.”

“When Pedro was in your position he was asked if he thought himself a heartthrob. Do you think Pedro Pascal is a heartthrob?”

“Yeah, he’s definitely a heartthrob. I mean the world has already declared Pedro as the hottest man and he’s just such a Daddy, ya know?”

“What about Gabriel Luna?”

“Oh! Umm, well… have you seen him? He’s definitely hot and very underrated. He’s got a very charming southern accent and I don’t know if you’ve noticed the freckles across his gorgeous skin and his eyes seem to be the brightest shade of brown I have ever seen, much like cognac. He might be like eighteen years older than me but he needs more recognition for what he does- oh I’m rambling…”

“You seem to have thought about this a lot.”

“I-I wouldn’t say that…”

“She’s lying.”

“N-no!”

“Moving on…”

I’m dragging myself from my bed at the knock on my door, having just ended a FaceTime with Pedro who of course had a good tease about my vanity fair lie detector interview. It got released last night and already the fan accounts are blowing up my phone with edits and ships of me and different actors. Pedro called me as soon as he woke up, being a few hours behind me at the moment and first checked on how I was doing before he let himself tease me a little. I hung up on him to call back a second later, him waiting for the call back and a grin on that stupidly cute face as he chuckled.

The knock at the door gets more persistent as I pad through my apartment, wondering who the fuck it could be. Barbie has keys so it won’t be her as she’d just let herself in with a call of my name to let me know it was her and Pedro is still doing his Mandalorian press tour so it’s definitely not him.

Flinging the door open I’m greeted by dark curls and warm cognac eyes. Gabriel’s standing in front of me, out of breath and an overnight bag hanging from his shoulder. He’s watching me, eyes scanning my face as I just stare in shock. Gabriel Luna is standing outside my door. He’s at my apartment. How the fuck did he get my address? Oh wait, I know, Pedro probably. That motherfucker.

“Is it true?” Gabriel’s southern accent rolls off his tongue like warm honey as he steps forwards, into my apartment and I take an instinctive step back, “Y/N, is it true?”

“I-is what true?” My voice catches in my throat when my back hits my kitchen island, the door being kicked closed before Gabriel’s dropping his bag and stalking towards me, my mouth drying up at his every step. He places his hands either side of my hips, against the edge of the counter as his dark eyes scorch my skin, face dipping down close to mine.

“Don’t play dumb with me sweet girl.” He coos, voice deep as he dares a glance at my lips and back up.

“Please.” I whimper, the sound dying on my lips when his crash against mine. It’s sweet and tantalisingly slow as we both relish in the feeling of wanting each other. His hands move from the counter to my hip and my cheek and I’m gripping his shirt to pull him flush against me. I think I might be dreaming still but when his blunt nails dig into my hip I know this is real; he’s here and he’s actually kissing me. He’s intoxicating, the mixture of coffee and cedar wood addictive and I never want to stop but my lungs are burning and we’re pulling apart with a gasp, “Fuck me.”

“Let me at least take you on a date first.” He mumbles, lips curving into a smile against my neck, stealing a gasped laugh from me as I do the one thing I have always wanted to do: tangle my hands in those perfect curls and tug, testing the waters. The dirtiest moan I have ever heard falls from those cupid bow lips and his cognac eyes darken even more, his voice husky as he growls out, “You keep doing that and I’ll have to skip taking you out on a date and asking you to be my girlfriend.”

I tug on his soft hair again, groaning out a quiet, “Ask me.”

“Will you go out with me?”

“Fuck yes.”

TAGS: Tag List Form

@iraot @gemimawrites @pedropascalsrealhusband @twopercentmilk @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend @sonhee-a @dizzyforyou-blog @grooveandshit @reyas-world @canpillowscry @jell0buss-37 @androgynousgaz @not-a-unique-snowflake89 @kalllistos @mediocrewallflow3r @certifiedhunter @alexis-doggy-76 @thesapphirequeen

#Gabriel luna#Gabriel luna x reader#Gabriel luna x oc#Gabriel luna fluff#Gabriel luna x you#Gabriel luna smut#Gabriel luna fanfiction#Gabriel luna fanfics#Tommy miller#the last of us#the last of us 2#the last of us x reader#the last of us smut#the last of us fluff#tlou#tlou2#tlou x reader#tlou fluff#tlou x you#tlou x oc

#gabriel luna #Gabriel luna x reader #Gabriel luna x oc #Gabriel luna x y/n #Gabriel luna x you #Gabriel luna fluff #Gabriel luna smut #Tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou x reader #Gabriel luna fanfiction #Gabriel luna fanfics #the last of us x reader #tlou x you #tlou fluff #tlou smut #Tommy miller x reader

94 notes · View notes

albertasunrise · 4 months

Text

Hope - Gotta be Hopeful

Masterlist

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So happy y'all loving this fic. Sorry in advance for this angsty chapter ♥️ slightly shorter chapter but it'll all make sense in the end 🙊)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Your brows pulled together as you eyed the time on the clock. It was gone midnight and the later it got the more worried you became. Alec had promised you that he'd get back no later than 11 and had sworn to call if that was to change. So the fact that it was just shy of 12:30 had you picking up your phone and opening your contacts.

Your brows pulled tighter when Tommy's name started to flash on your screen.

"Tommy, what's up? Everything okay?"

"No." He choked down the phone and your stomach sank.

"What's happened?" You managed to ask as your hands started to shake.

"Joel and Alec were heading back from the bar and... Shit... They were heading back and..." He trailed off and your throat tightened as you waited for him to continue "They were in an accident..."

"What do you mean?" You sobbed as your eyes flitted to the photo Alec has recently had printed and framed of you all at one of the many weekend BBQs you'd had. Joel smiled as he held a giggly Sarah in his arms with Noah at his feet, grabbing his jeans as he grinned at his friend. You and Alec were in a natural embrace. He's kissing your temple as you grin at the camera whilst Tommy stood to one side scrunching his face at the two of you.

You had taken a few but that was the one you'd ended up picking. It emphasised the family-like unit that had developed between you all.

Tommy's sob pulled your attention back to the call you were on and you fought to keep yourself together. "I'm on the way to the hospital now with Sarah... Shit... shit it's bad. It's really bad."

"What hospital Tommy?" He gave you the address and told him you were leaving before heading up to Noah's room.

You picked up the sleepy toddler and grabbed the emergency to-go bag that Alec always had packed for him. The little boy was confused when you carried him to the car and put him in his seat but you tried your hardest to stay calm so that he didn't get worried.

"Where's daddy?" He asked sleepily as he wiped his eyes and you choked back a sob.

"We're going to see Daddy, honey." You said softly as you jumped in the driver's seat.

"Is daddy okay?" He asked softly and you shut your eyes a moment as you willed your tears away.

"I hope so sweetie."

...

Tommy was cradling a sleeping Sarah against him when you arrived in the waiting room. Noah looked around at his surroundings, his mussy clutched tightly in his little hand. His eyes grew wider when he saw Sarah and he grinned as he jumped up and down on the spot.

"Sarah here." He screeched, quieting down when you crouched down to his level.

"I know sweetie but she's sleeping right now." You said softly "We need to be quiet whilst we're here okay? There are lots of poorly people that need to sleep to get better."

"Are Daddy and Joel sick?" He asked quietly and you nodded softly.

"Yeah, baby... they are but the doctors are going to help them feel better." You said sweetly "But we need to be quiet and gentle so that they can rest okay?"

He nodded, eyes growing a little teary and you were quick to pull the toddler into your arms, looking at Tommy over his shoulder. He gave you a grim look that made your stomach sink. A short while later, Noah and Sarah were curled up together on the couch in the corner, fast asleep. He held her closely, the blanket from her emergency back draped over the two of them.

"What are the doctors saying?" You finally managed to ask and Tommy scraped a hand over his face as his eyes drifted to the kids.

"Joel was driving." He started and confusion filled your features at this new information "Truck jumped a light and t-boned them."

Your shaky hand flew up to your mouth as you tried to muffle the gasp that slipped from your lips.

"Joel's suffered internal bleeding and a bleed on the brain. They've put him in a coma and he's on life support. Won't let me see him till he's more stable. They're trying to treat the brain bleed without surgery but..." He trailed off, throwing his head in his hands as he tried his hardest not to fall to pieces.

"What about Alec?" You asked softly, listening to the soft sigh he let out before he raised his head to look at you again.

"He's in a bad way." Tommy confessed "Broken leg and arm. Internal bleeding and head trauma." He stated, taking a moment to compose himself "They had to remove his kidney and gallbladder..."

"What else?" You pushed, knowing there was more "Tommy, what else?"

"His spine was damaged too." Tommy replied, finally looking at you as his eyes started to mist with tears "They're concerned about the long-term damage but at the moment it's too early to tell."

"Are you telling me he may not walk again?" You sobbed, glancing at the children when Noah moaned softly in his sleep.

Tommy couldn't keep the tears at bay. They silently slipped down his cheeks as you looked at him pleadingly.

"They don't know." He answered honestly and you sobbed, cradling your bump when your baby girl started to move.

...

3 hours later you were finally able to visit Joel. The doctor had promised you that you would be allowed to see Alec soon so you resigned yourself to waiting. You carried Sarah, the lighter of the two toddlers and Tommy carried Noah as you were led to the ICU. Joel was situated in his own room, surrounded by different machines that were throwing out different sounds. Sarah turned her head, tiredly rubbing her eyes as she looked at her father who lay in the bed in front of her.

"Daddy?" She said softly, leaning back to look at you before returning to her dad "Daddy." She said, her voice growing more distressed and you hushed her as you carried her closer.

"Daddy's not very well." You said softly as you sat in the chair that had been placed beside his bed, Tommy pulling the spare sat in the corner up next to you.

"Daddy owie?" She asked as she pointed at the scratches visible on his face and arms.

"Yeah, daddy's got a few owies but they'll get better honey." You said softly "Just needs to sleep a little bit and then he'd be all better."

You knew it was going to be hard for the toddler to understand. You wished you knew what to do. Tommy was 19 so you knew that he was going to need help with Sarah whilst Joel was in the hospital. You were going to need each other as you navigated this mess.

Now more than ever.

...

Tommy took care of the kids whilst you went to visit Alec. He looked, physically in better shape than Joel. The doctor had advised you he was sedated but that they were confident he was going to recover.

They just weren't sure if he'd walk again.

His right side was almost pure plaster. His arm and leg elevated to help the healing process. You sobbed as you sat beside his bed, wishing you knew what to say to him. How were you going to cope if he ended up paralysed?

You were 6 months pregnant and had a 3-year-old also. The idea that you were going to have a disabled partner too was daunting.

"Hey." Alec croaked, pulling you out of your thoughts and you jumped to your feet, cradling his face as you kissed him sweetly.

"Hey." You sobbed as you pulled back and rested your brow on his.

"Hey, no tears." He said softly as he used his uninjured hand to wipe them away "It's okay... We're okay."

You nodded softly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you drew your head back to look him in the eye.

"How's Joel?" He asked and you choked on a sob "He's not?..." Alec asked as his eyes grew wide and you shook your head.

"No... No, he's alive but he's on life support."

"Shit... God this is my fault... If I hadn't offered for him to drive-"

"No, hey. You can't think like that." You said as you placed your hand on his hip, pulling your hand back when you noted the stitches "Oh, sorry."

"It's fine, can't feel it." He said, shaking his head and your eyes widened at that "What?"

You were fighting not to break down as you stepped back from him and covered your mouth to muffle the sobs that wanted to slip out.

"Baby... what aren't you telling me?"

"You damaged your spine in the accident." You choked out, hand shaking as you spoke "There's... there's a chance that..."

"A chance of what?" He pushed and you sobbed harder "Fuck, baby you're scaring me. Just spit it out."

"You might not walk again."

The silence that fell over you both was deafening. Your whole body was shaking as you watched him process this news, your hand on your bump as she gave you a powerful kick. Making you wince.

"You okay?" Alec asked, taking you by surprise and then your eyes followed his to your hand rubbing where she just kicked and you nodded.

"Yeah, she's just making herself known." You chuckled as you made your way to his side again and placed his hand on your bump, smiling as he smiled at the feeling of his little girl moving underneath his fingertips.

"We'll work this out." He stated, eyes not leaving your swollen middle "It might now be easy but we'll get through this." He finished, looking up at you "I promise."

You nodded at him, lifting his hand to kiss his grazed knuckles. You believed him. No matter how this went. You were going to make it.

Alarms started to blare from another room and your stomach dropped. The sound of Sarah screaming made your blood run cold and you glanced at Alec before sprinting out the hall, almost colliding with Tommy as he was pushed from the room, Sarah crying in his arms and Noah clutched his leg. You pulled the inconsolable toddler from his arms so Tommy could pick up Noah, watching through the slits in the blinds hanging in the window as the doctors shocked Joel.

"DADDY!" Sarah screamed, thrashing in your arms as she tried to reach for him and your heart broke as you stood there and watched them work.

Praying for her sake that they could bring him back.

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #Gabriel luna gif

110 notes · View notes

angsty-twihardxx · 1 year

Note

heyy victoriaaa!!

i was reading thru your tommy masterlist (because i'm just craving good tommy content) and an idea popped in my head.

if you're taking requests/concepts in, maybe you could do a tommy x reader where reader is shy and "innocent", but to their friend (insert random name) they talk about how badly reader wants to "save a horse, ride a cowboy" w/ tommy miller, and juuust as reader finishes saying that, tommy hears it, so he just spends a week teasing + seducing reader, until she does something about it (maybe tease him right back)

JUST AN IDEA I THOUGHT YOU'D ENJOY! 🤫

MICHELLE—!! Your very much correct because I did in fact enjoy! ❤️

Warning: 18++ (minors y’all better get outta here I stg) smut, PnV. Tommy being such a tease, but it’s okay you get him back.

AN: y’all voted for smut on the poll so I provide, come get y’all juice <3

P.s teehee imagine him looking up at you like this when your riding him 🫣

SUCH A TEASE | T.MILLER

Springtime in Jackson had a lot of benefits, like more animals to be hunted, better harvest with lots of different types of crops which made for better food. The only downside, for you at least was how more precise patrols had to be. When the weather was warmer meant a higher possibility for infected and poachers. Which unfortunately for you meant that Tommy was out slot longer than you would like.

It was nearing ten at night when Tommy, Joel and the others finally arrived back home from patrol. Being stuck dealing with hoards of infected, it came to be no surprise that all he wanted to do was come home and see you.

After packing away his horse and gun, Tommy began his walk down to the Main Street. When it came to you staying up late for him to come home, which was alot more often as of late— Tommy knew exactly where you would be waiting for him.

Down inside the Tipsy Bison you were currently leaning against the bar along with one of your girlfriends, who came to keep you company. You were grateful that she stopped by because you always had the tendency to worry whenever Tommy would, your mind would flip through every worst scenario in your head like a good book. But Louise knew how to distract you, which apparently was by telling you her latest late night rendezvous with a particular coworker of yours.

“Okay Lou, please spare me the details. I’m working with him tomorrow morning and I don’t want to be traumatised.” You giggled, the few drinks the two of you drank together were already beginning to have its effect.

Absently your eyes drifted towards the saloon doors, your boyfriend still nowhere in sight. Sadly no amount of alcohol could ease your worries when it came to Tommy, the man was headstrong— which wasn’t always a good thing. “Hey I’m sure he’s okay.” Louise squeezed your hand reassuringly, despite your bubbly personality, she could still see how worried you were. “Now c’mon enough about me and more about you.”

Tommy smiled when the sound of your laughter filled his ears, after being gone all day all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his night with you. He felt bad, as of late he had been gone out on patrol longer than he was home with you. As he walked up behind you though, he was not expecting his hears to perk up at the mention of his name.

“Oh my God! You're worse than me! Does Tommy know about this?” Louise exclaimed hysterically,

“No-no but it's a thing I swear, I heard it's a saying. ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

Tommy couldn’t help but raise his brows in surprise, you never mentioned such interests to him before, his sweet innocent baby had a dirty little secret.

His mind instantly flooded him with images of you bucking your hips on top of him, his hands gripping on your warm velvet skin. The moans that would fall out of your mouth as you rolled on top of him as you reached your orgasm.

“Hey Tommy!” Louise called out to him, her pestilential voice rang through his ears. He returned her wave with a painful smile for the sake of niceties.

Your head quickly spun around to look behind you, the man you had been worrying about for the past couple of hours was standing behind you with a wide smile. “Had me worried for a second there.” You mumbled against his denim jacket, his muscly arms engulfing you into his chest. Everything felt perfect again now that you knew he was back safe with you.

"Sorry darlin.” He spoke softly as he kissed your hair, taking in your scent. A quiet groan falling from his mouth but luckily for him it was far too loud for you to hear. Tommy really couldn’t believe that you were hiding this little secret from him, especially one that he was quite fond of.

Tommy had a plan to get it out of you though, that was for sure.

. . .

You had no idea what your boyfriend was up to but you didn’t know how much more you could take. Since that night out with Louise he had been nothing but an absolute tease, and he knew what he was doing. He was always a flirt but he had taken it to a whole new level. His hands wandered more than usual, he flirted way more than he usually would.

What would usually be a quick peck in the morning before work, turned into a steamy kiss with his hands gripping onto your ass; making it absolutely infuriating when he’d pull away with some bullshit excuse. Leaving you high and dry, it was driving you insane!

The morning after your night out with Louise he got you as far as a writhing hot mess with both of your lips locked onto each other, only stopping to take gasps for air. You moaned against his mouth, as his tongue danced against yours. Arousal begins to pool in between your legs as he drops his warm kisses down to the nape of your neck, every now and again sucking on the soft skin.

“S-shit Tommy.” You let out a broken moan, your fingers gripped onto his crimson curls. Tommy couldn’t help the playful smile when an evil idea popped into his head, lifting his lips away from you.

No words left your mouth as it fell agape, your eyes looking up at his confused. “Why don’t you take what you want sweetheart?” Tommy whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment you stood still in shock, never had he just plainly offered up the power to you like this. You had no idea what to do so instead you sat beside him frozen, noticing the devilish grin on his face.

“I-I dont–” Your head shook in confusion as you stuttered, this wasn’t the first time he had you lost for words like this. Tommy was a flirt, just as bad as he was the night he met you.

“It’s okay baby, why don’t you get ready for work? Wouldn’t want you to be late.” He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips before getting up from the spot beside you on the sofa and moving to the kitchen to make your coffee for the morning. Tommy wasn’t able to wipe the smile off his face as he thought about how wet you’d be all day thanks to him. Maybe you would give in quicker than he thought.

. . .

The next time was a few days after when he informed you that Joel invited the two of you to his home with Ellie for dinner, which you were elated about. Maybe if you were with the company of his brother, Tommy might actually calm down. You were beginning to get agitated with your lack of orgasm in the past couple of days, Tommy was the biggest tease and you didn’t know how long you could hold on.

You figured that he was surely finished with whatever game he was playing.

Well, that was what you thought until you arrived home and moved straight to your shared bedroom to get ready, and out waltzed Tommy in nothing but a towel wrapped around his toned torso. You froze because of course you did, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he brushed his teeth but your eyes fixated on his hands, you wondered what he would do with them if you rode him. If he would run them through your hair and pull on the ends so he could leave purple marks on the soft skin of your neck. Or if he would wrap his hands around your neck, taking the air straight out of your lungs.

His hair was still wet, beads of water dripped from his curls onto his bronzed shoulders. The faint remnants of how close you got to getting him the way you wanted only a few days ago. Red scratches lavished his olive skin like an artist's signature on a painting. A sense of pride washed over you with the thought of him taking his shirt off during the hot days in Jackson, how he loved the idea of everyone knowing you were his and vice versa.

You were so busy admiring the man in front of you that you didn’t even realise his eyes on you. When Tommy offered you a wide smile you quickly adverted your gaze, pretending your eyes weren’t just greedily glued to the raven hair path that stopped at the top of his towel. Your cheeks reddened as you turned to get changed, ignoring the pulsating yearning feeling you had to take him right here. Dinner be damned!

Tommy knew that his plan was working from the way you always avoided his gaze when he’d catch you watching him. He was driving you crazy and he knew it, he loved catching you in the act. How flustered and embarrassed you’d get. You wanted him just as much as he needed you.

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

Tommy couldn’t for the life of him, stop thinking about you. His teeth pressed against his knuckles, his eyes would glance back at you as you would speak. His usually soft caramel eyes were nearly black as he undressed you with his eyes. Those devilish denim shorts that were driving him wild, he wanted your thighs wrapped around his waist as he drilled into you. Fuck he needed his hands on you.

You jumped the second Tommy’s hand reached over to graze along the soft skin of your thigh, the two of you sitting beside each other at Joel’s home. Surely he wasn’t going to try anything with his brother and Eillie in the same room? His thumb kneaded your skin as he kept his eyes on Joel, the two of them engrossed in conversation.

You tried to ignore the arousal that was pooling in your underwear, his rough fingers danced dangerously close against the end of your shorts. Silently, you cursed the hot weather for giving your boyfriend the upper hand. Without warning he nonchalantly extended his arm so his pinky grazed against the soft fabric of your underwear.

With a shocked gasp you turned to face him, with eyebrows raised you stared at him I’m disbelief. Tommy only smiled in return as he knocked down the last of his whiskey, sending a wink your way.

‘Oh two could play that game’ You thought to yourself as you stood up, excusing yourself and making your way to the bathroom. You had an idea up your sleeve, for the perfect payback for teasing you all week.

Now it was his turn.

“Y’alright baby?” Tommy teased in your ear as you took your seat beside him, thinking he was getting you all roused up.

Little did he know.

Joel had called Ellie to help him with dessert, this was the perfect time for you to get your revenge. You returned him with an smile, nodding innocently has you placed your hand in his.

Tommy almost felt bad for teasing you all week, especially with small intimate moments like this. When you were happy with something so small, finding comfort just having his larger hands envelope yours. Key word being ‘almost’, moving your hand into your lap Tommy looked down to see what you left in his palm.

Your fucken underwear.

Quickly he stuffed the thin material into his pockets as he covered the smirk off his face with his hand. He was going to get you back for that one.

Dinner couldn’t have finished quicker, the two of you swiftly say your goodbyes to both Joel and Ellie before making your way home in the dark. Your hand instinctively reached out for Tommy’s, which he took before pulling you into his chest. “Pretty good trick you pulled in there.” He mumbled into your hair, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feigned ignorance, enjoying how the roles were reversed, now it was you that was driving Tommy insane.

As soon as the two of you were in the warm confides of your home Tommy's mouth latched onto yours, pushing till your back came into contact with the wall. You returned him the same amount of desperation, a whole week you had been waiting—you didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of your tongues fought for dominance as you groaned back into him.

“You’re going to be the death of me, women.” Tommy groaned against your mouth, his hot breath fanned against your mouth. “Could say the same for you, y’don’t think I know what you're up to?” You gasped in between touch-starved kisses, it felt like you had been waiting since forever for this moment.

“What was it you were sayin’ the other day to Louise? Telling your friend your dirty little secrets but not your boyfriend.” He tsked, shaking his head as his hands cupped your cheek, almost studying your face to see your reaction. “You heard that?” Your voice jumped, you knew you shouldn’t care. But a part of you worried with the thought of your boyfriend knowing your sexual desires.

“Yeah, n’here I thought you were all innocent, keeping dirty secrets from me.” Instantly you felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment, Tommy actually heard you that night and your drunken rambles. “I–I didn’t–” You stuttered but Tommy quickly shushed you, “I didn’t say it was a bad thing darlin’.” His Texan accent sends chills down your spine.

“Stop talking.” You breathed against his mouth, silencing him by sliding your tongue back into his. “You’ve been teasing me all week, I think it’s only fair if I get what I want.” The fingers you laced through his hair tugged just enough on his curls, a surprised gasp fell from his lips. “Yes ma'am.” Tommy drawled, feeling the blood rushing down in between his legs. Even though he hadn’t yet admit it to you, he loved it when you took control. Since he heard about your secret desire, he couldn’t stop thinking about you riding him and now it was finally happening. He felt like the luckiest man on earth,

Tommy dropped down onto the sofa, shimmying his jeans off in anticipation. His cock springing to life, your eyes instantly glued to the angry red tip that glistened under the light. Standing in front of him you made quick work throwing off your shorts and leaping onto Tommy’s lap. You wasted no time lining yourself up and slowly inching yourself down his thick shaft, a moan falling from your lips as you stretched around his cock.

Your cunt swallowed him eagerly as you started to rock your hips, his cock hitting all the right places. Once you had eventually adjusted to his size you picked up your pace, occasionally lifting your hip to then slide back down to his pelvis. “O-oh shit baby.” Tommy let out a shuddered breath as his head fell back onto the sofa. You felt a sense of pride, seeing how quickly you could render him speechless.

As you grinded into him the familiar arousal began pooling in the pit of your stomach. Tommy teased you all week, getting you so close to climax without you actually orgasming— you weren’t going to last long. And by the gasping mess that was Tommy, you knew he wasn’t going to as well.

Tommy's hands then clasped onto the soft flesh of your hips, you already knew his death grip was going to leave marks—Tommy was a sucker for letting everyone know who belonged to.

Suddenly you were lifted up, only to be slammed back down at a bruising pace. A loud slapping sounds echoes in the room as your thighs collide with his hips, your mouth fell open as you felt his cock hit the top of your cervix.

“Shit Tommy—" you mewled into Tommy's shoulders as you used your momentum to bounce on top of him. You clenched your eyes shut only being able to focus on how perfectly Tommy filled you up, feeling your orgasm fast approaching. “M’gonna come!” You whined as your body trembled, the tight knot in your stomach finally releasing as your orgasm washed over you.

“Oh fuck yeah baby—“ Tommy groaned into you as his dick twitched inside you, with his fingers still dug into your skin he sunk you back down with a bruising force. The two of you caught your breath in each other’s embrace, your hip still twitching as you felt him coating your walls. Neither one of you dared to move. “Holy shit.” You sighed out of breath, slight amusement in your voice.

“Baby, you gotta promise me to do that more often.”

#Tommy miller #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller smut #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller fic #gabriel luna #gabriel luna x reader

388 notes · View notes

biggestsimponhere · 10 months

Text

“I’m in trouble, i’m an addict, i’m addicted to this boy”

Y’all need to make more posts for Gabriel Luna because i love him and none of us talk about him enough. Loml gabriel luna.

#the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller the last of us #gabriel luna #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #ghost rider #robbie reyes #agents of sheild #robbie reyes x reader #fubar #boro fubar #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#marry me #i love him sm #he’s such a cutie

230 notes · View notes

itsmoonchik · 10 months

Text

#robbie reyes #robbie come home pls #gabriel luna #agents of shield season 4 #agents of shield #robbie reyes textpost #robbie reyes aos #robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes x you #ghost rider textpost #ghost rider

150 notes · View notes

inej-ruination-ghafa · 1 year

Text

BLOODY HANDS ‐ T.M

Warnings: nightmares, ptsd, grief, mentions to sex, kissing, mentions of War, Canon typical violence mentions, guns

Pairing: Tommy Miller x reader

Summary: you had loved Tommy once upon a time and after fifteen years you stumble across him and bring him home with you, unsure if he still loved you after all this time.

Wordcount: 4.9k

You always said you didn't have favourites but Sarah Miller was by far the best student you had ever had. You’d only been teaching for a few years but she was the epitome of a perfect student, good grades, always polite, hands her homework in on time and participates in the lesson.

The 9 year old would stay an hour late at school some days due to her fathers construction business taking up his time and since it was winter and getting darker, he didn’t want her walking the Texas streets alone. You didn't mind the company as you marked your papers, the girl reading to herself and finishing off work for other teachers.

You checked your watch, tapping it twice when it slowed slightly before you looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed it was a few minutes past the time that her father would usually pick her up.

Joel Miller was a single father working a construction business with his brother who was only 5 years younger than him but still living at home. The mothers at school always gawked over him and you couldn’t deny he was attractive with that mysterious air to him and those soft brown eyes that everyone fawned over.

You never usually minded Sarah staying a little later if he was running late, you understood how difficult it must be for him but you did have places to be, you couldn’t babysit Sarah forever.

“Sarah, do you want to grab your bag? Your father will be here soon,” you said and she nodded, placing her book back down on her desk and walking towards the other room to grab it.

You walked over to the window, peeking through the blinds as you searched the parking lot for the Millers SUV but when you didn't see it, you looked back up at the clock with a sigh. You were going to have to drive the girl home and explain to your headmaster how that doesn't break any laws.

As you put your books back in your bag, you heard the regular hum of the Millers car and kept packing your stuff away, calling out to Sarah to let her know that her dads here.

You heard the door open and assumed that Joel had let himself in like he normally did but instead of being greeted by his usual sting of apologies that you always forgave him for, you were met with silence.

“Mr Miller, yo-” you started to say but stopped when you saw the man behind you. You cocked your head to the side, eyes narrowed as you tried to figure out who the man leaning against the door was, “-you’re not Mr Miller,”

There was a slight panic in your voice but when he mailed you, you recognised that smile and shook your head, scoffing at how you hadn’t realised it sooner, “Tommy Miller,” you stated, almost questioning him.

He nodded, “I’m sorry I’m late picking her up, I don’t normally do this so I got a bit lost,” he explained, his Texan drawl evident and you nodded your head, noticing the similarities between the brothers.

They had the same smile and the same eyes but there was a joy in Tommy's eyes as you looked at him that Joel never had, a certain sparkle that most people only saw once or twice in their lives.

“Come in, I’m just packing up, Sarah is tidying up her stuff,” you explained and he nodded, coming into the classroom and closing the door.

He stood there and watched as you picked up the files from the floor, lifting them up to the shelf and tidying up like you had meant to do ever since school had ended an hour ago.

Tommy Miller leaned against your desk as he watched you try and neaten it all up due to having guests. He smiled to himself as he looked at you. He had heard all about you from Sarah and from Joel but seeing you in the flesh was completely different - neither of them had ever mentioned how stunning you were.

“I’m sorry again, for being late. You must have more important things to do then look after my niece,” he said and you turned back, looking at him over your shoulder with an understanding smile.

“I quite enjoy looking after your niece actually,” you said, turning around with a box in your arms, “And you could make it up to me by helping me put these files back?”

There was an almost teasing smile on his face as he walked over, taking the box from your hands with an ease that you didn't have, “Yes ma’am” he replied, “Where do you want me to put it?”

You gestured to the cabinet to your left, “In one of those gaps, I've been meaning to sort it all out for months now but never got around to it,” you explained, watching as he placed the box down before coming back for more.

That's when Sarah came out, her backpack slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face, "Uncle Tommy!" She exclaimed and he turned to look at her, another box still in his arms.

His grin matched hers and you could see the similarities in the family, all of them having grins that could light up the room and you could feel yourself wanting to smile as well.

There was something about Tommy Miller that lit up a room, whether it was his smile or his teasing personality, you were sure all women would fall to his feet at the slightest glance.

"Hey kiddo, your dad's working real late tonight so I'm picking you up," he explained, placing the box down and brushing his shoulder length hair out of the way.

Sarah nodded, picking up her book from the desk and shoving it in her backpack before walking over to where the two of you were standing.

"Thank you for looking after Sarah, and Im sorry for being late again,' Tommy said, turning to look at you and Sarah smiled.

She had never seen her uncle look at a woman like that before and she'd seen him look at plenty of women. She smiled to herself, remembering to tell her dad all about Tommy's crush on her teacher.

"Would taking you to dinner one night make it up to you?" He asked and you could feel the heat rising up on your cheeks.

"I'm free Saturday," you said, scribbling your name on a piece of paper and tucking it into his hand, "Call me sometime,"

There was a part of him that worried that you would have rejected him. After the war, he felt like he always had blood on his hands but you didn't know that, you didn't have to fear him.

He always thought that killing people in the war had made some God hate him because he was unlucky, restless, agitated but maybe they were looking down on him if he found you.

He smiled at you, walking out of the room before turning around and looking at your face again, flashing you that signature Miller smile.

"You like my teacher," Sarah said in a sing song tone and he scoffed, opening the door with a smile.

"Get in the car kid," he said, closing the door when she got in before looking back through the window to see that wide smile on your face as you watched him drive off.

You had spent the last fifteen years in a state of fear and anxiety, unsure of what was going on.

The night of the outbreak, you had been visiting a college friend in Oregon when it had happened and in some turn of events, you had made it all the way to a QZ. But you had lost so much in the press including your boyfriend of three years, Tommy Miller.

You had spent fifteen years of your life looking for him, searching every radio station you could but you received nothing and eventually gave up.

There was a feeling in your gut that he was alive, like you could feel him out there suffering as much as you. There were days where you wondered if he was out there and thought of you as well, if he searched for you too.

After the death of your friend, you met a woman on the radio who mentioned that she had built a small safe haven with her father and had invited you there.

Tommy was alive and well and he was on the search for somewhere else to live as well after storming out of the Boston QZ.

He had spent years of his life searching for you as well, desperate to make the world better. The city you were supposed to be in had been destroyed nearly immediately but he still held hope that you were out there somewhere too.

He had done awful things searching for you, he had killed people, joined a militia group and abandoned his brother in some search for redemption.

As he stumbled around the cold forests of Wyoming, rifle tight in his hand as he looked for the nearest settlement, he found a log cabin in the woods.

When he heard the sound of a gun loading and footsteps behind him, he froze, hands held up in surrender. He was spending too much time thinking about the past that he hadn't noticed someone sneaking up behind him.

With a sigh, he turned around, eyes widening when he was met with a familiar face. He knew you in an instant and he felt his heart speed up at the sight of you after all these years.

You had aged but really, you hadn't changed in his eyes. You still had that same glimmer in your eyes and Tommy Miller was still sure that he had never seen a person as beautiful as you.

You were just as shocked as he was as you looked at the man in front of you, your hold on your gun faltering but you tried not to let him see your hands shake.

He had changed too but he still had that same smile on his face that lit up a room. You couldn't help but stare at him, wonder what he had gone through without you, wonder where he got that scar on his temple.

"Tommy Miller, as I live and breathe," you said, trying not to break down at the sight of him.

You had never forgotten him as much as you tried. The sleepless nights in a cold QZ bed, reaching over in the morning to feel an empty space beside you were all worth it to see him here.

He said your name, his voice soft and your breath hitched in your throat. You never thought he'd say your name again and now you never wanted him to stop.

You lowered your gun slowly, watching as he also lowered his raised hands and took a step towards you.

He still had that shoulder length hair that you'd always loved but had grown out a moustache. The crease between his brows was deeper now and you wondered what he had gone through in these years.

He stepped closer like he was being pulled towards you by some invisible string, his hand slowly coming up to rest on your cheek. You leant into the warmth of his hand, unable to take your eyes off of him.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, a roughness to his voice like he was holding back tears.

You shook your head, hand coming up to rest on top of his to pull it away from your face. As you held his hand, feeling the warmth of his calloused hands against yours for the first time in years, it felt like 2003 all over again.

You didn't care what he had done with his hands, the people he may have killed, the blood that stained the skin because he was still yours and you knew it as you looked into his eyes. His hands were still the ones that had touched you late at night, his hands were still the ones that wiped away your tears when you cried.

"I'm patrolling the area, I live in a settlement nearby," you explained, pursing your lips together as you thought, "You should come back with me,"

He whispered your name again and you stepped closer, "I don't want to impose," he said and you scoffed at the idea.

"When have you ever imposed on anything in my life?" You asked, a teasing smile on your face and for the first time in years, the weight was lifted off of your chest.

You didn't feel the crushing weight of the apocalypse bearing down on you because he was here, the rock who kept you grounded all those years ago was here with you now.

"So, you'll come back with me?" You asked, other hand reaching up and brushing a piece of dirt off of his cheek. You let your hand linger there, let yourself feel the soft stubble of his cheek against you for the first time in years.

He leaned closer to your hand, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist and then looking back at you, "How could I ever refuse you?" He said, that same smirk on his face from fifteen years ago.

It was like no time had passed at all as you walked back to the settlement, falling into a comfortable silence about what you had both been up to since you had seen each other last. There were things that both of you didn't want to talk about yet but you understood, there were difficult things in your past too.

As he looked at you, he couldn't help but thank whatever God was looking after him because they knew that he needed to see you again, needed to see you smile at one of his corny jokes just one more time.

There was a comfortable silence and it was like you both clicked back into place immediately, like you were still 27 and 31 again, "So, how long have you been living there?" Tommy asked.

"Around three years," you explained, looking to the side and looking up at him, "I found it after I escaped from my QZ,"

His brows furrowed as he looked at you, wondering why you used that word, escape, "Which one?" He questioned.

He wanted to know everything about you because he felt guilty for not being there with you when the outbreak happened, he should have taken up your offer to go to Oregon with you that day and maybe you'd still be together.

"Kansas City," you explained, looking straight ahead. You heard his breath hitch in his throat at the words and he knew how bad it was.

He knew how awful Kansas City was, he knew what bad things had happened to people there and he could feel that sinking feeling in his stomach as he wondered what prompted you to escape. That's when the guilt sunk back, the guilt of letting that happen to you.

The silence was awkward for a second and you shook your head, trying to change the subject, "What about you? Why are you in the middle of nowhere?" You questioned.

He shook his head, unable to find the words, "I had to leave the Boston QZ," he stated.

You recognised that guilt ridden tone from when he would talk about things from the war and you didn't want to push him on it. Everyone had to find a way to survive in this new world and you weren't innocent either.

"I guess we've both done some bad things in the last fifteen years," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

There was a slight smile on his face as he looked at you, "I guess so," he said.

"How's Joel and Sarah?" You asked. It was a question that had been burning on your chest since you saw him alone.

His silence made your heart sink in your chest, "Joel hates me and Sarah, she's," he explained, his voice trailing off at the end at that was answer enough for you.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head as you thought about what had happened to her but you didn't want to think too much about it, think about that little girl being victim to this new world.

"I'm sorry Tommy," you said, your hand coming down to grab his and squeeze it slightly in reassurance.

He hadn't had someone look out for him like you had ever since the outbreak, had someone touch him like that and just know him since 2003. Just to feel your touch against his made shivers run down his spine.

Tommy look over at you, squeezing your hand back, "He was never the same after that, never quite as human," he explained and you thought about that joyful man you knew becoming reclusive and lonely, "How have you been?"

"Fine, I taught at a Fedra school for a while so," you said, chuckling to yourself as you thought about how absurd it was. You both knew how awful the Fedra schools were, how they indoctrinated people but you wanted to clear up any assumptions he had of you, "I know, pretty awful of me but I had to do what I had to do to survive. I now teach local kids,"

"You were always the best teacher," he said with a smile, letting go of your hand and brushing his shoulder length hair back.

The rest of the walk was in comfortable conversation, talking about the lighter aspects of living in a post-outbreak world but you knew that the two of you were getting along perfectly like you never spent any time apart.

When you got to the settlement, Tommy looked around at the scene. There were houses and buildings sprawled everywhere and he could feel the familiar burning of tears behind his eyes as he looked around. This was meant to be his future, the perfect little town, the nice house and the family. This was meant to be his future with you.

You could see that he was nervous and you leaned closer to him, "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll all like you," you reassured as you walked towards Maria.

She called your name, pulling you in for a hug before turning to look at the man beside you, "And who's your friend,"

"This is Tommy Miller," you said and you noticed Maria's eyebrows raised as her interest was piqued.

"The Tommy Miller? I've heard a lot about you," she said, pulling the man into a hug before letting him go when she felt him tense up, "Sorry, I'm a bit of a hugger,"

"Do you have any place for him to stay?" You asked, looking around the estate.

"We don't have any other houses available, the roofs collapsed during the snow storm last month," Maria explained and you could see the way Tommy's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"He could stay with me," you announced, basically blurting the idea out and the two adults turned to look at you, "I have a couch, he could stay with me until there's room,"

He hesitated, stepping back slightly, "I don't want t-" he started to say and you cut him off.

"If you say you don't want to impose Tommy Miller I swear to God," you said, watching the smile reappear on his face. You really hadn't changed over the years and that was the thing that made him smile.

"Perfect, we will get you clothes and you can get yourself set up while we look for some jobs for you to do, I'm sure our friend won't mind sharing patrol shifts with you," Maria said with a smile.

"So, you've talked about me?" He asked teasingly and you turned to him, face burning as you hit him on the shoulder.

"Shut up," you said trying to hide the blush raising to your cheeks as you walked away with him, a small laugh escaping him.

She had never seen you so willing to take someone onto your home before so as she watched the two of you walk away, she knew he was someone special.

"So, this is my place," you said, fumbling around with your keys in your pocket before you opened the door, "Go on in, you can have a shower if you want,"

He looked around in awe at it all. It was a real house, not some dodgy apartment in a QZ. It had a makeshift calendar and blankets and logs piled up near a fireplace.

"It's not much I know bu-" you started to say but he cut you off, stepping closer to you.

"It's amazing doll, absolutely amazing," he said, a smile on his face as he looked around, "Now where's that shower?"

You smiled, pointing him in the right direction and watching as he rushed off like a little kid on Christmas.

You sat on your bed as you listened to the sound of the water from the shower, fiddling with your hands anxiously. It was strange to have someone in your house after living alone for so long but it was nice that it was Tommy.

You two had dated for three years before that day and in those years you had grown as close as two people could and you had grieved losing him but now he was here.

It was strange to think that after fifteen years apart he was here in your house and it was like no time had passed at all even though so many things had changed.

When he had gotten changed, he walked out, towel still trying to dry his hair. You smiled at the sight of him and all the memories came flooding back, of him running through the rain, of him running you baths on nights when teaching got too much.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him brush his wet hair back and you had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that it wasn't another dream.

"You'll be staying on my couch," you said, walking him through the hallway, "Its not as comfy as it looks but I'll try and get a pull out bed in the morning,"

He nodded, "Thank you, for letting me stay with you,' He said and you smiled at him.

"It's okay, call me if you need anything," you said, leaning against the doorframe.

"I will, night," he said and you smiled at him, repeating the sentiment before walking away.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard a yell and a bang and jumped up, hand on your gun as you walked through the hallway slowly.

Your finger was solid on the trigger and when you entered the living room, you saw Tommy sitting there, head in his hands and the lamp fallen on the floor in front of him.

When he heard the creak of the floorboard, his head whipped around to look at you and when he looked at you, your heart dropped.

He had tears in his eyes and sweat on his brow and he looked away from you almost like he was ashamed of what he looked like.

Slowly and hesitantly, you walked over to him and sat down next to him. You reached up, hand coming up to rest on his shoulders and he flinched slightly at your touch.

You knelt down in front of him, placing a hand under his chin to bring his face up so he was looking at you.

"Bad dream?" You asked and he brushed the tears away quickly before looking back at you.

You knew how to look after him, you had held him as he cried in the night after nightmares from his time in the war and you jumped right back into that mode, your hand coming up tor rest against his cheek, brushing a stray tear away.

"I've got you, I'm here," you promised.

There was a part of him that relished in your touch and the fact that you remembered all of this after so long but also a part that wished that nothing bad had ever happened to the world and to you two.

He allowed himself to open his eyes and look at you because you weren't a dream. He had been having nightmares of your death since 2003 and now you were here and he was allowing himself to realise that you were real, that you were here with him and that it was your touch against his skin.

He had always dreamed of your bloody hands begging for him to help, bloodying his clothes and his skin but as the pad of your thumb brushed against his cheekbone, he knew it was all okay.

"Just breathe," you said and he did, following your breath before managing to shake off the fear.

"I haven't had this one in a while," he said and you nodded. You didn't want to push him because bad things had happened to both of you. He looked down at you, your faces close together.

"It was Sarah, I haven't dreamed about her death in so long," he said and you nodded, standing up and offering your hand to him.

"How about you come stay with me for a bit, my beds comfier than yours," you offered, a slight smile on his face as he looked at you.

"You sure?" He questioned.

"You're not a burden Tommy Miller, you never have been," you said and he nodded, grabbing your hand and letting him pull you up.

You brushed one of his curls out of his face before leading him to your room. As you looked back at him, he was just as beautiful as the day you two left one another.

You two settled down in the bed, the blankets draped over both of you and it felt like you were back in his and Joel's house, holding each other in the night.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, the two of you sitting there comfortably.

He shook his head. One day he would explain what happened to you but right now he didn't want to relive Sarah's death, he didn't want to see his niece lying there, he didn't want to have to rip Joel away from her body again..

"Could I just, hold you for a bit?" He asked, hesitant that you would refuse or see it as him crossing some line.

You nodded and as he wrapped his arms around you, finding some sort of comfort in your arms, you smiled to yourself.

"I've missed you," you whispered in the dark, unsure what else to say. How do you verbalise that the last fifteen years had been hell without him and that now that you were with him again, the voices in your head had all been silenced?

"I missed you too Doll," he said, pressing a kiss against the exposed skin of your shoulder, "I'm not letting you go ever again,"

"You're going to be wishing you'd never found me," you joked and you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he laughed.

When you heard him laugh, it was the first time in fifteen years that you had been completely at peace and a smile came to your face at the sound.

You turned around in his grip, feeling his arms tighten around your waist as you reached a hand up to gently caress his face.

Both of your hands were bloody from what you'd done to survive, from what you'd done to get to one another but here with him in your arms, you didn't regret a thing. For once there was no weight pushing you down and you were free to love.

"You're the love of my life Tommy Miller," you said and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

He kissed you at that moment, the first kiss you'd had in all that time apart, and as he kissed you it felt like nothing could ruin your lives at all.

The guilt that Tommy had felt all these years were washed away and he didn't allow himself to get wrapped up in the idea that he deserved to be punished, that he had sinned. Because if being a sinner had lead him to this, to you, then he wished everyone to be sinners and to be as lucky as he was.

He pulled away, breath hot against yours and you leaned in again to press another kiss to his lips, almost like you craved it after all this time.

"I love you too Doll, never a moment where I didn't," he said and you leaned your head against his chest, allowing yourself to just be in the moment for once.

As you fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you, it was the best that you had slept since the day you two had left each other and you knew that you weren't going to let him go again.

348 notes · View notes