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lokischocolatefountain · 4 months

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Warning || Men Like Me

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Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew.

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to.

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate.

That was where his troubles began.

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours.

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?”

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade.

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair.

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.”

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either.

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole.

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked, groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile.

“Depends. Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip.

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal.

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth.

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?”

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.”

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.”

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?”

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.”

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.”

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance.

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type.

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive.

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up.

Fucking disgusting.

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world?

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man.

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes.

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing.

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements.

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers.

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety.

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time.

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did.

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked.

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.”

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave.

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew.

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.”

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.”

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.”

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.”

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.”

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.”

“Like me.”

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.”

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.”

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.”

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.”

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.”

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen.

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?”

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived.

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside.

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts.

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines.

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this?

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass.

He should leave.

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home.

He should leave.

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day.

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one.

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open.

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about.

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.”

No, it couldn’t be anyone else.

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was.

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch.

“J-Joel?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks.

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you.

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one.

“Touch me!”

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you.

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?”

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.”

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to.

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time.

“Any man?”

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage.

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest.

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire.

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way.

“Please… I don’t– what was that?”

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore.

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.”

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!”

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you.

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree.

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward.

“Joel…”

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed.

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties.

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you.

“Be a good girl from now.”

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller age gap #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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nervoussagittarius · 2 months

Text

which triplet is most likely to ft. matts girlfriend y/n!

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt invites his girlfriend to a car video with nostalgic vibes

warnings: none :)

you were sitting in the passenger seat of the minivan, you're normal spot when you were driving with the triplets. this time though, a camera sat in front of you on the dash of their car.

being home with the boys in boston was still something you were getting used to. your boyfriend matt had spent a big part of the day taking you around all the iconic spots in the city. the boys had asked you earlier in the if you wanted to participate in a video. you, of course, said yes.

your relationship was no secret to the world. you guys have been together for a couple years, and you had been featured in many og videos.

"gotta turn the world into a dance floor" chris sang, as matt got into the car. he pointed at you to finish the lyric

with a roll of your eyes, "determinate d-determinate" you sang back.

matt and nick looked at the both of you. one in anticipation of you guys to keep singing, and the other in anticipation of starting the video.

nick cut all of you off quickly to intro the video. "hey guys! welcome back to the fridays video"

"today we have a very special guest, drumroll please, my girlfriend y/n" matt said as he looked at you with a stupid smile on his face.

"hi guys! im back" you replied looking at the camera.

chris started from the backseat, "if you're new here, y/n has been in a bunch of our old videos, and were bringing her back to see her take on 'who's most likely to'"

"we've done this before but we figured y/n could give you guys an outside perspective” matt said as he looked at the camera.

“i’m giving y’all the dirt. we’re getting deep… i- okay” the boys laughed at you while nick pulled up the first question.

“okay, which triplet is most likely to get mad at another for chewing to loud?” nick asked as you immediately looked between the camera and matt.

“we already know the answer because the viewers have seen this happen multiple times”

“yeah, i have to say it’s matt. i’m so sorry for coming at you first honey” you said in between giggles as matt rolled his eyes.

“i disagree. i don’t think i’m most likely to do that”

“matt! we’ve witnessed it bro. you can’t say it’s not you when it is. either way it’s a who’s most likely to question not who’s actually doing it! but you’re actually doing it. good god” nick exclaimed.

the car was packed with laughter as nick went in his tangent. you all calmed down as nick asked the next question.

“who’s most likely to not be able to sleep alone”

“all of you.”

“what!?” “no way!” “that’s not even true”

“no it’s so true” you responded to there complaints. “let me explain. nick is probably the least likely. he’s okay sleeping alone i just feel like people come to him the most to sleep with him so he’s used to sleeping with other people.”

“that’s very true. people are always in my bed” nick said giving the camera a little wink.

“matt and chris need to have someone with them at all times. chris can’t sleep in the same place for more then a night. he’s always sleeping everywhere but his own bed. and matt texts me at least once a week that i need to come over and sleep in his bed with him because he can’t fall asleep.”

“let me just clarify,” matt started, “i can sleep alone. i would rather have my girlfriend with me though. and that’s okay. that’s fine”

“yeah and i just don’t like being alone.” chris defended.

a few more questions were answered before you guys decided to call it quits for the night.

matt grabbed the camera off the dash pointing it at you. you smiled and put up a peace sign.

“look at how cute she is” matt said as he put his hand on your cheek.

“alright matt, end the video”

matt screamed in the camera quickly ending the video.

comments:

i can’t get over how beautiful matt and y/n are together

i need someone to look at me the way matt looks at y/n

i love nostalgic boston videos

petition to bring y/n back on the channel more.

an: this kinda sucks because half of it was deleted when i tried to save it to my drafts and i don’t really like it but y’all wanted a matt fic. first part of the matt series will hopefully be up soon🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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iluvmattsbeard · 1 month

Text

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

A/N: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine. - L🤍

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

*time skips*

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

*time skips*

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

*time skips*

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

*time skips*

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity! - L 🤍

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bratzforchris · 25 days

Text

Sunflowers

Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.

Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader

Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!

ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety.

Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door.

The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for.

Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with.

“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”

Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone.

Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”

The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter.

“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”

Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up.

“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds.

As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task.

The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown.

Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully.

Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated.

The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online.

The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him.

“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”.

“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy.

Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully.

“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”

“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.

Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered.

“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”

Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them.

“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic.

“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated.

“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal.

Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him.

“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly.

“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy.

You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed.

“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug.

You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you.

“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you.

“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered.

“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to bed added to my taglist, click here <3

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openupforme · 3 months

Text

ꪖꪻ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ꪑꫀ᥅ᥴꪗ - E.W.

*pics from pinterest, i don’t own these.

[] Pairing : soft!rough!dom!ellie x needy!reader

[] Synopsis : Twice out of the year you both take the [] day off. One of you needs to relieve your stress and [] one of you needs to blow off steam. One out of the [] two of you does all the hard work, while one of you [] is incapable of moving or doing anything at all.

[] Warnings : 18+, MDNI, swearing, teasing, HEAVY SMUT, bondage, HEAVY overstimulation, PRAISING, ellie refers to the reader as baby and angel, dom!ellie, bottom!reader, face fucking (r! receiving), oral sex, strap on fucking {lmk if i missed anything please 🦦}

[] Authors Note : Digital footprint? we don’t know [] them. BUT ANYWAYS, i hope you enjoy. let me [] know if any of you have anything specific you [] might want to read next? CAN SOMEONE PLEASE [] TEACH ME HOW TO DO THE REQUEST THINGY [] FOR THE BIO? oh yeah this is a modern!AU

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The soft pillow that is nestled under your neck turns cold, and your body shivers due to your naked state. Due to how smoldering Boston’s weather is in the summer, the AC unit thats connected to the window adjacent to your bed is blowing at high speed. Even after the sun goes down, your two bedroom apartment sometimes still feels like a sauna if it's not put to use.

The once forgotten chilling air pulls you out of your thoughts, making you shiver again. You slide your leg across the bed to try and locate your blanket, only to remember the words your girlfriend muttered to you thar morning. "I want nothing getting in the way when I'm fucking you as many times as I want later", she said even though she was sleep disoriented.

Your eyes are covered, your hands are tied, your bodies shivering, and Ellie is still nowhere to be found. The green eyed girl whispered dirty things in your ear, fingered you until your toes curled, just to get off the bed with a "You're probably hungry, I'll be back baby". You’re immensely lucky to call her yours, but now it's her fault you’re freezing.

You laid there for what felt like eternity under the blistering air until you hear the bedroom door open. Your head tilts towards the direction of the door. Well where you assume the door is. The soft patter of feet comes closer and you feel the bed sink under your girlfriends weight.

“Hi Angel are you awake?" Ellie says before dragging her finger softly across your jawline.

"I'm awake, but I'm fucking freezing. Can you please turn the air conditioner down?" You say in a small voice.

"Of course I will, it's my fault you're freezing anyway. I also stopped by Salvador's and got your favorite." she stated cutely as yoi waited for her to return to the bed.

The buzzing caused by the AC stops as Ellie resumes her position next to you. Silence engulfs the room and you feel her hand start to softly caress your stomach making you sigh. "I don't want the food to get cold. I'm going to feed you, not like you have another choice anyways," she said as you giggled at her reference to the ropes around your wrists and blindfold over your eyes.

"That's fine baby, I love when you take care of me" You smile and wait for her retrieve the food out of the bag. Soon you felt a styrofoam container being sat on your stomach, and as soon as Ellie opened it you moaned at the smell.

"Baby no more moaning please. For the foods sake, one more of those and I might throw this food and my control out of the window." she said with what you know is a smile on her face, that tone always indicated playfulness. "Open up" she says before the taco is placed in your mouth, and an unintended groan rumbles from your throat.

You hear a whimper come from Ellie who is sitting beside you, as the taco is being taken away from your mouth so you can chew. You hear Ellie begin to woof down her portion of the Taco's, moaning with each bite. While the two of you were eating you could feel her eyes trailing across your naked chest. You could physically feel her eating you alive with just her gaze alone. The thought alone making your legs try to clench together.

After many bites and groans the once chilly room was becoming warm and lust filled. The sexual tension was rising by the second and the thought of being thoroughly fucked for the fifth time today made your legs clench shut. “Already ready for more? Your last orgasm wasn't even an hour ago," Ellie said picking up on your body language.

“You're moaning and I can practically hear your loud filthy thoughts. Might I add that you're teasing me and I don't appreciate it." You sigh out. It's normal for you to get turned on quickly when you’re with your girl, her presence alone made your body want to heat up.

"I didn't mean to tease you, Sal's infamous tacos are just too fucking good. Plus baby, you know all you have to do is ask if you want something. Remember what I told you the other week?" she asked as her hand began to trail down your stomach.

"You've told me many things the other week. Please elabora-" you were cut short when her slender fingers began to rub your clit, making your back arch off of the bed.

"I told you that I am yours. Anything you wish is my command, because you are my everything. I also said that I love to please you, it's my favorite thing and an honor to have the privilege of worshipping you. You are my drug. You'll get anything you want, as long as I'm able to please you and call you mine." she said before removing her gifts from god from your nerve bundle. Butterflies and a series of whines erupt from your throat at her words and the loss of contact.

"You show me everyday baby, would you mind showing me just how addicted you are?" you say in a breathy tone, already dripping onto your shared black sheets once again.

"Anything for you angel, I was going show you whether you asked or not." The horn dog said moving the empty food carton from my stomach, and tossing it onto our bedside table.

You hear the rustling of clothes, and knew they were being thrown recklessly on the floor of your bedroom. The bed then dips and you feel soft and warm hands spread my thighs gently. Then you hear her soft voice cut through the silent air, "What do you want baby? Whatever it is i'll give it you". you moan at her low tone and start to thrust your hips into the air, becoming impatient due to your turned on state.

"I want you to do what you always do. Make me feel good. Put your tongue in my pussy please” you moan out desperately.

Before you knew it her long slender tongue was deep inside your tight hole. Ellie instantly starts moving her head back and forth, while she kept a strong grip on your thighs. You try to run away due to the pleasure being to immense, but your restraints keep you secure. She temporarily pulls away to sexily whisper to you.

“Why’re you running baby? This is what you wanted yeah? Then stop squirming and let me fuck you with my tongue. I know you want it”

She dives back in and soon sounds start emitting from between your legs that make you want to cover your mouth in embarrassment, but you physically can’t. Wet slurping and Ellie’s moans are booming off of the walls, as she continues to plunge her long muscle inside of you.

You can feel the tongue inside of you curling upwards and moving backwards. You realized Ellie was quite literally swallowing your cum, drinking from you like you held the fountain of youth between your thighs.

“Fuck baby please p-please, stop it feels too good” You say trying but failing to shy away from her quick thrusting tongue.

Ellie comes up for air to quickly say “You know your safe word baby, and unless you use it i’m not fucking stopping. So be quiet and take it like a good girl okay?” The auburn haired girl says before her tongue is once again quickly dragging along your walls. Making white lightning shoot up your spine. The noises coming from your mouth sound downright pornographic. Who can blame you? This is what you wanted right?

You feel her slender fingers glide up your thigh to your stomach and they end up harshly tugging at your nipples. The pain of that mixed with the wet sucking noises your pussy makes as it’s being rammed into you has you beginning to sob. It was too much. She was too much.

Seconds felt like hours. You could do nothing but lay there like a good girl and succumb to her torture. That tongue was relentless and it’s goal was to LITERALLY fuck the life straight from your body.

You could only imagine what Ellie looked like in this moment. Eyes closed in bliss, loose hair sticking to her forehead, while you could feel her whimpers of satisfaction vibrating inside of your walls. The thought alone has you approaching your orgasm with the speed of light.

The blindfold covering your eyes doesn’t help with your sensitivity. As soon as your vision was engulfed in darkness your other senses skyrocketed, and that was before Ellie even started fucking you. Now there’s a flame roaring between your thighs.

Her nose is pressing against your clit with every jerk of her head between your legs. They started to shake under her palms as you cried for mercy. “Good girl, it’s okay good girl” she’d mutter to you every once in a while when she came up for air.

Suddenly she pulls away from your pussy causing you to cry out. You start to wail out and beg for her to let you cum, but your admissions are being ignored.

“Baby calm down it’s okay. I’m just going to grab something, I’ll be right back okay” She whispering softly, to which you respond with a tear filled voice “N-no! Baby please just fuck me, fuck-fuck me please I need you”.

“So needy, behave for me please? Just wait a minute angel, I promise to fill you up again” She said as you felt her weight lift off of the bed, making you sob harder.

You hear the closet door open with a *click* and you instantly quiet for a second. “Hm what happened baby? I thought you wanted me to fill you up” she says with that fucking stupid smirk on her face. You can’t see her but you know it’s etched on her lips.

“E-ellie wait, I don’t know if I can take that right now. I f-feel like i’m going to pass out any second now” You whisper shakily, knowing damn well you want her cock to stretch your tight pussy open.

“You know you can always safe word if you want to. I’d never do something you’re unsure about, but something tells me that your neglected hole wants to squeeze me” Ellie says now on her knees staring down at your pussy from above.

The tip is pressed on your clit, making your back painfully arch as far as it could. A moan so loud it shook the ceiling escaped your mouth. “You want me baby? Beg me” She said repeating the movement making a squeal rush out of your mouth. All Ellie could do was coo at you and laugh at your overstimulation.

“In-Inside please” You beg like a bitch in heat. You try to rut your hips up enough to force the tip to slip inside, which earns you a blistering slap to your thigh. “Stop fucking squirming, ask me properly” Ellie was growing impatient, she wanted nothing more than for you finally beg so she could fuck you into your shared bed.

“Y-your cock, please put it in my pussy. I need y-you so bad so fucking bad. I-I’ll do anything, just PLEASE” you blabber making Ellie look down at you in pity.

“Okay baby, okay I got you.” She whispers thinking that she’s tortured you enough.

After Ellie’s statement you felt the fat head of the silicon toy push inside of you. This caused the loudest whimper yet the leave your tight throat. “Oh fuck well would you look at that, you’re trying to pull me in deeper already.” She mutters through a groan.

You feel the toy slowly gliding along your gummy walls, making it harder to breathe. The thick girth of the toy is causing your pussy to stretch. It’s a big step up from Ellie’s lengthy tongue but it feels deliciously painful. The toy is only half way inside of you now, but that doesn’t stop you from crying out “O-oh god fuck, it’s too much” to the girl above you. The toy is sliding in deeper, massaging the nerve endings in your channel perfectly, and all you wish you could do was put your hand on Ellie’s stomach to stop her from going any deeper.

Before the strap on can bottom out within your pussy you feel Ellie drag it out of you slowly. Squelching noises follow due to the vast amount of wetness that surrounds the toy. The sound makes Ellie moan out and then push back in slowly.

You think she’s trying to tease you but deep down Ellie just doesn’t want to hurt you. She’s trying to allow your pussy to accommodate to the large size. As much as she’d like to rip you in half, she still feels like being gentle is needed right now. Especially because of how sensitive she knows you are right now.

You cant stop the moans from pouring out of you at her slow pace, in and out in and out. It’s that mouthwatering torture you crave but fuck you wish she’d go faster.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice that the toy was now snug against your sensitive cervix. You yelp out loudly like a dog that just got it’s paw stepped on, because fuck it’s big. The toy she picked out of your combined collection makes few appearances. But when it does, you know you’re going to end up fucked out and gasping for air.

“Oh angel it’s okay, I know you can handle it. You’ll tell me if you can’t won’t you? Yeah I know you will. I just want you to give me one more okay? Just one more.” Ellie says wanting to coax a 6th orgasm out of your tired pussy.

Ellie on the other hand is so drunk off the sight of your puffy pussy lips stretching to accommodate her length that her mouth bobs open and closed like a gaping fish out of water. This is what she lives for. This is what keeps the breath in her lungs. Being able to make you feel the pleasure you deserve.

Ellie’s waited too long, and before you know it she’s pistoning inside your pussy with immense speed. All you can do is cry and try to squirm away, but still to no avail the ropes remind you that you can’t. Gut wrenching sobs burst past your lips as your tears soak the material of the thin mask. Ellie notices this, and she halts her movements while the toy is pushed as deep as it can go inside of you. She leans forward and gently pulls the soaking material away from your eyes.

“Agh there you are angel, you know the deal. Keep your eyes on me or I swear on all I love that I’ll stop. Do you understand me?” She says menacingly. You wouldn’t dare disobey her. But before you can even respond that you “understand” she’s already moving her hips back and forth.

The look on Ellie’s face right now can only be described as ravenous. You made the mistake of catching her eyes with yours, and she can see the submission pouring out of your irises. She bites her lip, grips your thighs, and starts fucking into you like it’s the last time she’ll be able to. You didn’t even think it was possible for her to move faster but she managed to.

Your eyes cross towards your nose at the newfound pace. This makes Ellie let out a cute giggle, you look so fucking pathetic. The toy mixed with the look of hunger on Ellie’s face has you back on the edge again.

The long cock is reaching so far inside of you that you can feel it nudging against your stomach. You can physically see your stomach bulging up and down from each of her harsh thrusts.

You cant fucking take it anymore. Ellie’s groans, the pleasure, the sight of your stomach popping up and down has you ready to explode. But Ellie knows that.

“I know you want to cum, beg me angel, or I’ll stop right now” That threat has you panicking.

“P-please can I come? Please m-make me come. I need it, please fuck I-I need it. Just want to come for you, be your good girl.” you cry out and babble in despair.

“Okay okay, shhhh I got you, I got you. Let go for me. You did so good” Ellie says lifting a purple remote. She then presses down and you hear a click. Oh fuck.

As soon as her finger lifted off of the device intense vibrations are being soaked up by your walls. The pleasurable hum touches that spot deep inside of you. You’re a goner.

The orgasm you finally get the chance to experience takes you out of your fucking body. Screams and wails flood out of your mouth. At this point your neighbors probably think you’re being murdered. But the thought doesn’t stop the white creamy liquid that’s shooting out of your hole. Not only does it cover the whole of Ellie’s thighs and stomach but is also soaks the bed under your ass too.

Ellie simply just stares at you in awe, still buried to the hilt letting the vibrations work you through the comedown. The aftershocks of your intense orgasm still have you shaking, they still have you crying, and fuck it won’t stop.

“O-out please, it’s too much. I’m so f-fucking sensitive. Ellie please” you cry out still feeling little tears slide down your cheeks.

Ellie finally breaks from her trance and clicks the button causing the sensation to finally stop. She slowly slides out of you making you whine at the loss, but cry out from joy. You pussy is completely wrecked and all you want is that sweet aftercare.

Ellie unstraps the toy and gives you a hasty but soft “Ill be right back, okay?” And after hearing the running water shut off she emerges with a wash cloth. The warm cotton glides against your thighs, and moves gently along your outer lips. She straightens her back and stands back up.

“What do you say pretty?” Ellie says her voice filled with love. But you’re still too stuck in a trace to answer. The crying has subsided but you’re still shaking. So she asks you again.

“What do you say? Don’t test my fucking patience.” Ellie now speaks with that dominant tone you adore.

“Th-thank you, fuck thank you” You whimper out pathetically, trying to think of how she could possibly assume you’re in any position to form words right now.

“Thank you for what angel?” The soft tilt to her voice returns.

“For making me cum, for calling me your good girl.” You say calming down slowly as each second passes by.

“Good girl, you did so good. I’m so proud of you. Thank you for letting me please you. I’m going to untie you now okay?” Ellie says already making her way towards the binds around your left wrist.

One by one each knot comes undone, and after each one you’re slipping closer and closer to sleep. Before your brain that’s been turned to mush can comprehend what’s happening you’re pulled onto Ellie’s strong chest.

The last thing you say to Ellie before you fall asleep is the soft admission of “You had your fun today, but next time it’s you that’s going to be in that position.”

Ending AN: So yeah that happened.

#ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #tlou #smut #ellie the last of us #ellie smut #modern au #bdsmplay #ellie x reader #the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou x reader #ellie x reader smut

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wcters · 2 months

Text

𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗧𝗢 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗦

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: You join your boyfriend, his brothers, parents, and best friend on a trip to their house in the Cape.

warnings/notes: established relationship, swearing, sleeping the the same bed, sexual innuendo, was going to make it longer but it sounded bad 😭, based on the video we become master chefs

The loud bustle of the airport drowned out Nick and Matt’s voices as you stood with them, Chris behind you with his arms wrapped around you. The two boys were sitting down with all of your suitcases leaned up against the wall you and Chris were standing up against. “You alright?” Chris whispered into your ear. “Yeah, fine. Just excited.” You mumbled back as to not interrupt his brothers. They were texting their parents and trying to figure out where you guys were meeting them.

“Okay. They said they’ll meet us close to the north side doors.” Nick told you as he finally stood up with Matt following him. You all grabbed your luggage and headed to meet them. The boys were back in Boston for their dad’s vacation and invited you to come with them. You agreed, obviously, having missed their parents and Trevor. You’d probably spend some time with your parents too while you’re down here.

You’re brought back to present time with Chris bumping his shoulder into yours and pointing ahead. Ahead were his parents, Marylou and Jimmy. “Hey!” You waved as you came closer. She and Jimmy said a quick ‘hi’ before hugging their sons. She then turned towards you. “Y/n, honey. You doing alright?” She asked as she pulled you into a hug. “Yes, ma’am. And you?” “Likewise.” You did the same with Jim, hugging and greeting each other before you all headed to the car and to the house. You, Nathan, the triplets, and their parents were all going to their house in the cape and even though the have a minivan, it couldn’t fit all of you. Jimmy and Marylou were going to go in one car while you and the boys went in the minivan.

You made it to the house, got into the designated cars, picked up Nate, and got to Cape Cod in record time. It only took about two hours, and the actual drive from Boston was about a little more than an hour. You were stuck in the backseat with Nick and Nate, but you didn’t really mind. You spent a lot of the time catching up with Nate and then using Nick’s shoulder as a pillow so you could take a nap.

When you got there, Marylou and Jimmy were already there and getting their bags out. “We’re going to bed soon. Feel free to stay up, but be quiet please. Y/n, make sure they behave.” Marylou spoke as she closed the trunk of the car. “You know it. Goodnight guys.” You replied as the boys and Jimmy said they’re good nights. The sun was setting and you were already tired from the flight and the car ride. You each went to your rooms, Nick, Nathan, and Matt sharing one to let you and Chris share one. His parents were fine with letting you share a room. You’ve been best friends since high school with all of the boys before you even started dating Chris, so his parents always trusted you and Chris.

You changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, all stolen from Chris. You walked into the kitchen and met the boys. “Do you guys have a plan or are we just hanging out?” You asked as you made your way next to your boyfriend who was on his phone. “Well, Nate wants pasta and that made me want pasta but we have nothing in the fridge so we’re going to go to the store.” Matt told you as Nate looked up and smiled. “Alright. Want me to drive?” “Nah, it’s okay.”

You all piled into the car and headed to the store to get the ingredients for the pasta and other food because they actually had nothing in the fridge. You followed the group around the store, arms wrapped around yourself because you were tired. They were vlogging this and you opted to stay in the background. You were standing with the cart in the sauce asile with Nick, Matt, and Nate when Chris came up to you with one hand holding the camera and another holding a large box of Pepsi. “Chris,” you scolded him as he asked Nick to put in the cart. “We’re going to be here for three days.” Nick scolded him as well. “He’s going to down them in one.” Nate half jokes from beside you. “He’s going to finish it tonight probably,” you added, “don’t be burping all night or I’m sleeping on the couch.” “I won’t!”

The rest of the time at the grocery consisted of the boys bickering about which pasta and sauce they wanted while you pushed the cart around. Before you left the store, you grabbed a couple coffee’s for everyone for the next few days and a red bull for you at that moment to try and stay up . . . And also help you deal with the chaos that was going to ensue as you attempted to make pasta in their kitchen that could not fit five people.

You eventually made it back to the house and put all the groceries in the fridge while Nate, Nick, and Chris started reading the directions for the pasta. The camera was sitting on top of the range hood as the recording was started. You cracked open a red bull while saying “this is my patience tonight” and taking a sip. You stayed in the corner of the kitchen, sitting on the counter with Chris between your legs while everyone else boiled the water.

“Look at these two,” Nate said as he grabbed the camera and turned it toward you, “not even helping.” Your one hand was in Chris’s hair while the other was taking a sip of the red bull while Chris was looking down at his phone. “I opted to stay out of the way.” You argued as Chris looked up. “Smart move.” Nate laughed as he high-fived you. “What about you?” “I’m keeping my allergies out of the way.” Your boyfriend told his best friend. “Alright, you both have excuses.”

Time passed with you hanging out in the corner as the boys joked around and filmed until the pasta was finally done. You thanked Matt as he got you your pasta and you moved to the table in the living room. You all took your seats at the table with Chris beside you. “I’ll get your reaction first Chris and then I’ll give you the Camera back,” Matt offered as he took the camera. Chris took a bite as Matt asked him how he liked it. “Fabuloso.” Chris answered as Matt then turned to you. “Y/n?” You moved your head up when you heard you name. “She’s too tired to even register what’s happening.” Nate laughed. “That’s true. It’s filling and I’m ready to go to bed.” You exclaimed, going back to your food.

You all talked and ate around the table, making plans for the next few days and reminiscing about childhood memories. “All right,” you stood up, “I’m heading to bed. Anybody want their plates put away?” They all declined and wished you goodnight as you went into the kitchen. As you went to go up the stairs you turned and faced them. “Remember to be quiet if you stay up later because your parents told you so, and you don’t want to mess with me if I’m woken up. You all know what I’m like.” Nate saluted, Chris smiled and put a thumbs up, and Nick and Matt nodded.

You fell asleep in no time from how tired you were, you didn’t even notice Chris entering the bedroom and getting into the bed. You only noticed him when you woke up the next morning and felt his body next to yours. You already knew that this trip would be good if you were waking up like this.

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

SUB NATHAN DOE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

also based off of this

DESPERATE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were in L.A. with your brothers all week. when coming back to boston, your boyfriend can’t seem to control himself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, dry humping, p in v, overstimulation, small good boy kink, a little cockwarming

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 698

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: SURPRISE NATE NATION HERE’S A FIC😁

nate hates when you go to L.A. with your brothers. the main reason is because you're his girlfriend and he loves you, but what you don't know is that he does something that you don't even know about; despite dating for almost a year now.

he never touches himself when you're gone. no matter how desperate he is. poor boy will get hard if you post on instagram or if he scrolls through your saved chats on snapchat, but because you're not there to take care of it, he has to deal with the pain.

if he's in severe need, his hips will have a mind of their own and start moving to thrust against the pillow that sits between his legs. the fabric will rub at just the right spot through his pajama pants, squeezing tight around the pillow to rut into it harder.

closing his eyes tight, he'll bite on the pillow to muffle his pathetic sounds. it'll be embarrassing if his family could hear what he's like behind closed doors. aw, his pants will be ruined by the end of the night.

or how about that one time when just the thought of you would have his dick twitching. he'd be standing there, eyes closed, and imagining the dirty things he wants to do to you. underwear getting soaked from how much he cums in them by the thought of you.

nate knows that you'll find this behavior pitiful, hence why this is his dirty little secret.

although, he couldn't be happier right now. you, nick, matt, and chris got back to boston this morning, and of course, nate's the first one you wanted to see.

"i missed you," he says, smiling at how stunning you are when he pulls you into a hug.

"i can tell," you smirk, referring to the hard-on that's poking your thigh.

the touch of each other's skin feels soothing, and the way he thrusts softly into your cunt has you moaning lowly. nothing can beat 'i miss you' sex.

you already came once, but he’s fucking you through that high.

that’s when his movements quicken so suddenly, causing your eyebrows to furrow and for your nails to dig crescents in his shoulders.

“ah— nate, wait.” you gasp. it’s not like you guys never do it rough, but in this case, you want it to be something sensual rather than intense.

his head buries more into your neck, panting at the rhythm he’s going. “i love you so much.” he whispers into your ear.

“i-i love you too.” you groan, body rocking at the animalistic pace he’s going. it’s not like it hurts, but it was so out of nowhere that, to be honest, you’re starting to worry. “n-nate, please—”

“i don’t touch myself when you’re gone, you know that?” he whimpers, tears welling up in his eyes. “i missed you so fucking much.”

“s-slow down,” you whine, legs shaking when your g-spot gets hit.

he sobs quietly, interlocking his hands with yours. “i love this pussy so much! i-i was made for you. oh my god, i need to cum in you so bad. p-please let me—”

“baby, hey.” you say softly, cupping his cheeks to bring his head up. “look at me.”

finally, he slows before fully stopping. his eyes pool with tears.

you take your thumbs and wipe them away, pouting sympathetically. “i’m right here. you have to relax, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

he takes a few deep breaths to calm down. he nods, moving his hips again but this time calmer.

biting your shoulder, your nails gently graze down his back. he makes eye contact with you the whole time, loving how you feel wrapped around him. arching slightly, you moan.

“i’m close.” he mewls, the tip deep into your clenching hole.

“be a good boy and cum for me.” you coo, nate shivering at the pet name and immediately releasing deep inside you. he smiles contently, collapsing on top of you to cuddle. his cock stays buried, wanting to keep his cum in where it belongs.

toying with his hair, his eyes flutter closed. now that you’re here with him, everything just feels right.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore

#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#nate doe #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nathan doe #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #nate doe fanfic #nate doe smut

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sturnlova · 3 months

Text

Matt’s long john (M.S)

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, breeding kink and other ones, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

—————————————————————————

“Next up, we have Matt’s long john” Chris bursted out laughing due to matt’s stunned reaction to Chris’ words.

Me and Nick where in the background as Nick said in a frightened voice “ why would you ever say that” i giggled as i walked past Matt and whispered in his ear “ am i gonna get proof?” Matts ears and checks turned pink due to my words, i just walked away and sat on chair next to Nick waiting for the next donuts.

Time skip

Nick was fast asleep and i was just facing his back on my phone scrolling through TikTok until i got a snap for Matt, it’s not like it was weird for us to text but we didn’t really text on snapchat as i barely used it.

I opened the snap to be shown with a 8 and a half dick with a pink tip and a vein running down the side with matt’s hand holding it, and the text reading “ here’s ya proof” i could hear the Boston accent through the text.

I was still in a state of shock but snapped out of it to slowly make my way to Matt’s room.

I got out of Nick’s room silently and went to Matt’s room forgetting i had the tiniest shorts and a Calvin klein bra.

As i was about to open the door it swung open before my eyes to be meet with matt with dangerously low plaid pants showing his v-line and a happy trail along with no top on.

He grabbed me the waist and kissed me passionately, i started clenching my thigh to attempt to get rid of the growing heat between my thighs.

Matt noticed this and asked me if it was okay to remove my bottoms “ it’s okay Matty, remove my bra well you’re at it, don’t forgot your pants to” Matt removed all of our clothes and threw it somewhere in his room.

He kicked the door closed with his foot and placed me on the bed, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and started fingering me as he whispered praises in my ear.

I just moaned in response, but i needed more than his fingers, “ Matt please fuck me i need it.” and with that Matt added his length to my tight hole stretching me out.

He gave me 30 seconds to adjust but it was definitely not enough time as he started pounding into me” FUCK MATT SHIT YOURE SO BIG, FUCK I DONT KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT” i moaned insanely loud as he cut me off with his fingers that were once in me.

Nick called me, Matt saw this and made me answer the phone to talk to Nick.

“ Y/N are you in Matt’s room FUCKING him?”

Matt continued thrusting in me even though i was on call with his brother.

“ no nick i’m- i’m ju-just in his room .. bec- because you were sleeping and i go- got b.. bored.”

“Ok?? Are you ok you’re stuttering a lot?”

“ I’m o-okay i’m just not really focused, we are w-watching a sh-show��

“Ok well come back soon i still need a cuddle buddy.”

and with that i threw my phone across the room.

“ Good girl, lying to him just for you can get fucked by me, nearly got caught with the way you stuttered. Am i fucking you dumb ma?” “ yes fuck Matt you are.”

He kept on ramming into me, it was a speed i didn’t even know was possible, with every thrust hitting my g-spot i must’ve had 3 orgasms.

He licked the tears that feel from my eyes, and stated “ pretty girl can i fuck my babies in you? make you carry a mini me? you gonna let me fill you up?” He started whimpering as his thrust got slower and i was fucked dumb to the point i was barely able to respond, so i just silently moaned yes in response hoping he heard.

He released in me mixing both of our fluids together as i also came undone underneath him.

As he pulled out our juices started coming out but that didn’t last long since he pushed it back in my sensitive hole making me moan.

“Can’t waste any of it”

Matt carried me to the bathroom and placed me down on the toilet to pee, after i did my business he cleaned me and asked if i wanted a shower “ no thanks i can’t stand i’ll have one in the morning” “ Ok Y/N will you sleep with me tonight?” “of course i will Matt”

Matt changed the bedsheets and put me in his over sized top and some boxers, he put his boxers and pants back on as we laid in bed together to drift asleep.

We were interrupted by Nick coming in “ Y/N i get it you and Matt fuck now but i still need my cuddle buddy, also keep the fuck down kid.”

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

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reidsqlick · 3 months

Text

You’ll be back, right? || (S.R)

pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

summary: Spencer and you had been close friends, but due to an unexpected, sudden reason that friendship had fallen through, and led to what seems to be a rivalry.. what happens when you confront him of this?

warning(s): (MDNI 18+), softdom!spencer, unprotected sex, p in v, swearing, I don’t believe there’s any more but if there is please enlighten me 💔💔.

word count: 3,7k

Working for the FBI was a challenge, everyone who looked into the FBI, or had been an agent would tell you the same. As an agent, you’ve definitely come close to death many times throughout your career, you had known that’s what came with the job, and you more than ready for that. You were quite honestly ready for whatever this job could bring your way. Ready to tackle each obstacle with such ease, so much to the point you didn’t even care what could be thrown your way.

That’s what you thought until you had met Dr. Spencer Reid. Being transferred to this unit of yours was something you had no issue doing. Ready for whatever it brought you, whatever new challenges this career brought you. Nothing, and I mean nothing was going to get in the way of that mindset of yours you were so, ultimately set on.

Unfortunately, that mindset hadn’t met Spencer Walter Reid. The genius of the BAU. Mr. “187 IQ”. Once a twenty-four year old kid prodigy who knew more than most at that age. Now, obviously not twenty-four, and not quite a ‘kid prodigy’ anymore.

The man had gotten on your nerves since the day he chose his ego over you. Not cause he was necessarily a bad guy, he was actually friends with you. However, the shit that got on your nerves was the fact he was open about disliking you, his ego slowly becoming more important than your friendship sometime during your duration of working there.

Forever you thought about what you had done. At first, you two were oh so close, as close as one can get with Reid, at the time he at least could have tolerate saying more than at minimum, five word sentences to you in passing, or because Hotch had asked you two to pair up to go check things out.

He always teased you at work. Either making some snide comment about your intelligence, or critiquing the way you had gotten your part of the job done. God, it was aggravating to say the least. With each snide comment that was said in passing, the more he pissed you off.

You really hadn’t hated him. You had hated the way he was so rude towards you. You truly never got it, never understood how he could be so nice to you when you had joined, talking to you more than a friend should, but, hey.. he probably talked to everyone like that, right?

One day it snapped. He just… started being an absolute piss poor son of a bitch who couldn’t get enough of himself. Wafting in every comment of some girl on a case in passing, it stroking his ego. God, the man was so aggravating in every way possible. You just couldn’t understand what changed with him.

Yeah, okay. If we’re being honest with one another, I liked him, okay? I more than liked him. I kind of slightly loved him. When I first joined the unit, I had clicked with him the most. It was almost instant. Your shared love for ‘Doctor who’, and books. Most of all, you listened to him ramble. Not many do that, and when they do they always tease him for it.

Now he’s teasing you? Jesus, you couldn’t get over it. The man you once let into your heart, expressed your interests to him, let you be yourself around him, becoming such an asshat. That was beyond what you could’ve expected. Especially since it was so out of the blue.

Life is very against you as of late. You and the team are out on a case in Boston, where you’ll have to be staying in one of the “lovely” hotels there. The issue is that the team actually had gotten done with the case early. The hotel had been booked for a whole extra day.

So, due to Penelope Nagging Hotch so much to the point he actually gave in, you’re all going drinking. The hotel bar, obviously. Can’t stray too far from one another, yes we’re all FBI agents, but… safety first, always.

You weren’t one for drinking if you were honest, but it was a team thing, so you’d go. This case had ended up being much more stressful than it let off, and you kind of needed to cool off, and with the people you considered family.

You hadn’t dressed up, Jesus, no. Never. You aren’t one for dressing up. Yeah, you’re feminine.. just, sometimes dresses aren’t the comfiest, that’s one. Two, for fucks sake.. this is a hotel bar. It’s truly not serious enough to dress up for.

Just your leisure wear you brought, jeans, and a t-shirt. Don’t even get me started on the “Pick me” or “You’re so basic” shit, it’s just leisure wear, at a hotel bar. Fuck if I care, I’ll dress how I please.

Leaving your hotel room, you walk up to the elevator, pressing the ‘down’ arrow. Awaiting the elevator, to your surprise the one and only Spencer Walter Reid decided to waltz to catch it as well. Jesus Christ. He’s really not one for drinking. I know I’m not one for drinking, but he isn’t last time I checked.

The elevator dung open, and you stepped in, Spencer walking in behind you. You click the ‘one’, and wait for this ride to be over. You look around, trying to ignore the fact he was here. You look over at him for, what? A split second, and he catches your eyes.

Fuck. That was accidental… oh, what? He’s still wearing his suit. Jesus, you’d think the man would get into something more comfortable, yet… he’s Spencer Reid. He’s not getting more comfy than this.

Shit, this elevator ride is longer than you remembered it being. Yeah, you were on the twelveth floor, but why is it taking so long. You speak up, hating the silence. Might as well embarrass yourself more than you already had, mhm. Great fucking idea!

“Didn’t take you as much of a drinker, Boygenius.” You said, loud enough for him to hear you, but not quite loud at all. “You don’t know me, (Y/LN). You can’t ‘take’ me as much of anything.” He said, obviously annoyed. Shit.. why’d he have to be such an asswipe about everything he did. Jesus Christ you can’t say anything anymore, can you?

“Actually I do-“ he cut you off, “You do not know me. You think you know me, and I hate to break it to you, but you don’t know me. Don’t know why you somehow think cause we were close years ago when you first started working here, that you know anything. You don’t know me enough to classify me as a drinker, that’s one. Even if I wasn’t before, people change (Y/LN).”

Before you could even add, you were disrupted by the ding of the elevator. Thank god. But, seriously? Where does he think he gets off? You both leave the elevator, him in-front of you now. Walking to the bar, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Penelope enveloping you in one of her hugs.

Chatter between the team had went on for an hour or two, you hadn’t gotten drunk, but you were… tipsy to say the least. You really, seriously weren’t one for drinking, but Spencer being there, and his snarky ass comments from earlier truly set you off. You decide it’s better to go to your room before you get shit-faced drunk, so you say your ‘goodbyes’ to the rest of the team.

Pen pulled you aside, “Hun.. what’s up? You’ve barely spoken a word tonight. You’re just away from us, the group. Did we.. do something on the case that we missed? I can make someone apologize, cause (Y/LN)… I’m not gonna let stuff like that slide-“ you just sit silent. Giving her that look.

She looked confused. “(Y/N).. who,” you cut her off “Spencer. It’s nothing. Just.. we got on the elevator together and it got awkward again. Pen, you’re so lucky I love the rest of you cause I’d have already left cause of Spencer ‘I’ve got a stick in my ass’ Reid.” She and I chuckled.

She nodded, waving you goodbye. Telling the rest of the team about your departure for the night. You left the bar, walking towards the elevator, and clicking the ‘up’ arrow. It dinged not too long after, you entered, and clicked number twelve. As the doors were close to shutting, a hand came between them, forcing them to open back up.

Cause life hates me, who else could it possibly be except Spencer goddamn Reid? Jesus. Why’d we have to leave at the same time, why’d we have to get stuck in the same elevator again!? The ride was silent, well… for a while it was, until he decided it was just lovely to open his mouth, yeah this is just what you needed right now after your previous six drinks.

“Didn’t take you for much of a drinker, either (Y/L/N).” He chuckled, opening up the topic of conversation started just hours ago. “Hah, very funny Reid, I’m really not one.” He shrugged. “No? You didn’t sit at the bar and consume six too many drinks? That wasn’t you? Guess I’m imagining someone else as you.”

You sighed, staying silent. Not wanting to speak to him anymore than you already have tonight. You’re intoxicated, scratch that, you were more than intoxicated, and this really is NOT the proper setting for this. “Don’t wanna talk? Oh, wait.. you don’t want to speak to my face? That’s right. Okay, (Y/LN). I see, you can easily just tell people I have a “stick in my ass” and yet, won’t respond to me? That’s fine with me..”

Those words lingered.. oh they’re pissing you off. You looked at him, he was already looking down at you with the most aggravating smirk on his face. “You do have a stick up your ass. There? What do you want me to tell you!? What can I tell you? Last I remember I ‘don’t know you’ so how will I speak to you if I don’t even know you. Oh, and what can I say? Hmmm? Enlighten me, Spencer. Every time I do something you don’t like, you start running your mouth. Last time I checked, that’s the only time I’ve spoken about you behind your back, so you obviously need to get a grip, Reid.”

“You need me to enlighten you, do you?” He began, “Let me enlighten you, (Y/LN). You can say whatever you want, that’s fine with me, you simply just don’t bring me into it. We got that clear? I don’t need my coworkers thinking im some sort of dick cause you’re butthurt,” he looked at your eyes carefully “and intoxicated.”

“Why don’t you like me anymore,” I let out quietly. “Hm?” He said, clearing his throat. “Why. Don’t. You. Like. Me. Anymore!?” I said, louder. Tears violently threatening to spill. “What’re you talking about?” A tear rolled down your face “What am I talking about!? Jesus, how many times do I have to say it. We were friends, Reid. I liked you,” he was taken aback “I loved you. Jesus, did you forget about our friendship? I know it’s been a while.. but how many girls have to flirt with you to forget your friend? God, Spencer.”

He didn’t even say anything. You stood there, unaware of what was happening, obviously intoxicated. Tears spilling out of your eyes slowly. He looked over at you, looking at you, reading your expressions. He took two steps, making you two mere inches apart. He then leaned down, putting his forehead on yours.

You sniffled, “Reid, what’re you doing-“ “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)? Please say yes..” you nodded. “I need you to tell me I can kiss you, need you to tell me you want me to kiss you.” “Yes, Reid,” before you could even finish he grabbed the sides of your face, pushing his lips onto yours.

You kissed him back, with just as much eagerness as confusion. Don’t you hate him? What’s happening? Before you could even think properly the elevator dinged, you’ve made it to your floor.

He then moved his hands to your waist, leading you out of the elevator, lips still on yours, you pulled away. “Reid. What’re you doing?” Then, it came out. The years you wanted to know what happened, and he’s about to tell you. “I love you, too.” Your response? You pulled his lips back onto yours, walking backwards, finding your room.

You broke the kiss for a second, turning around to unlock the door, reaching for the keycard in your pocket, as Spencer wrapped his hands around your waist. When the door unlocked you basically ran into the room, closing the door behind you two. Once you turned around, your lips were already back on his.

You might be asking, why aren’t you talking this out? Why aren’t you asking what this is? His lips are telling you all you need to know, and you weren’t mad at all. Stumbling around the room, you made it to the bedroom and closed that door, as well. His hands still firm on your waist, he then pushed you against the bedroom door.

His mouth moved from your lips to peppering kisses on your jaw, to then sucking down onto your neck. You were letting out small whimpers, nothing too loud, but it was making him absolutely crazy. As he was marking your neck with visible bruises that weren’t going to be gone anytime soon, he moved his knee between your legs.

You began to grind down on this knee to create some form of friction. Fuck, you were getting louder. Seriously, (Y/N). I mean… seriously? You hate him. You hate how snarky he gets, hate how he makes snide comments, hate how good his lips feel traveling down your neck, hate how good his knee feels against your already aching cunt.

He then started to move his leg with the movements of your hips against him. Jesus. You’re putty in his hands, aren’t you? You’re done for. He then moved his hands under your shirt, starting to ride it up, asking you a question “Can I take it off,” he asked, all you could do was let out sorry whimpers as you were essentially getting yourself off on him, he stopped the movements of his leg, his grip on your hips tightening again “Hm?” All you did was nod, giving him your approval.

Once that was gone, he went back to working on your neck, sucking small bruises, moving down to your collarbone, receiving whimpers and low moans from you. He then moved his hands to the buttons of your jeans. “Can I?” He asked, you nodded again. “Can I?” He repeated. You speak up, “Mhm-“ he nodded, beginning to unbutton your jeans, and then unzipping the zip on them, causing them to fall to the floor.

There wasn’t much light in the room, only a lamp in the corner illuminating the dark room. Enough light for him to be able to see the wet spot in your underwear. He smiled, “You’re already so wet.” He said, circling small circles on your clothed clit, making whimpers fall from your mouth so desperately.

“You know,” he said, pushing your panties to the side, gathering up your arousal on two of his fingers “I love you. It’s why I ignored you so much,” he said, bringing his fingers up and down your slit, “too distracted to do my job sometimes, you know.” He said, inserting one finger into you, causing a breathily gasp leaving your mouth with such ease.

“Just thought if I ignored you, it’d help me from getting distracted with my job.” He said, moving his finger at a slower pace, curling it so every so often to get a reaction out of you. “It didn’t help much, though-“ he said, “I was still getting distracted, all the time. Couldn’t even focus on work, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “You know what happens when I can’t focus on work? I get upset, love. Wasn’t even you I was mad at, I was mad at myself, for getting so fucking pent up over you.” He said as he continued his pace, curling his fingers every so often.

He then pulled them out, a soft, disappointing whimper leaving your lips. “Shh, I know. Let’s get you comfy, yeah?” He said, moving you onto the bed, beginning to fully undress you, leaving you exposed. “What about you…” you chimed in nervously. He chuckled. “Oh, right. Sorry, princess. Let me just,” he said as he begun to rid himself of his own garments.

When he rid himself of his prior clothing, all but his boxers, he then hovered over top of you, beginning to gather up more of your slick, rubbing your clit in small, tight circles leaving you an absolute mess. You then began to grip the hand he was using to prop himself up with, needy with greed, your eyes practically begging.

“You close already, princess?” He asked in that cocky tone of his, smirking. If he hadn’t been making you feel this good, bringing you this close to release, making you feel better than you could ever do yourself, you would’ve already hit him upside the head. You then nodded, moans leaving your mouth the easiest they ever had. He had then removed himself of his boxers, his cock springing up and hitting his chest, glistening with all his pre-cum.

Your mouth all but fell to the ground in shock, it was so pretty, he was so pretty. Looking down at you, he had begun alligning himself with your glistening cunt, gathering your slick, finally positioning himself at your entrance, “You ready for me, princess?” You bucked your hips, nodding quickly, “Are you ready?” He asked again, the need to be in you was strong, but the need for your consent was stronger. “Yes, please Spencer—“ He smiled, “Good,” he said, slowly sinking into you, disappearing into you inch, by inch.

He fully sunk into you with a low groan, and slowly begun thrusting into you, warming you up for him, he had then moved his hand between your bodies, and began rubbing your clit in painfully slow circles, watching your face contort with a dumbfound smile on his face. He had then began to move faster, causing you to get even louder than before, and then he finally found his pace, the perfect pace, the pace that hit that spot of yours so well, the spot you were sure never existed, as the men before him were never able to find it, let alone you.

But, fuck. You had to admit, it felt so good. “Spencer— fuck… keep, keep going,” you were putty in his hands, you were his to mold, “yes— like that! Fuck…” he couldn’t help but let out small grunts, and groans. He never knew he could have such an effect on you, he had played this moment so many times in his head, but he’s so, so thankful for his eidetic memory so he can actually remember this moment exactly.

“Feel good doesn’t it, Angel?” He groaned, “Hits where it’s supposed to,” your whimpers got needier, his thrusts got sloppier, “ts’ like this cock was made just for you.” that was it, that was truly it, drunk off his words, his every moment, “Spencer, I’m—“ he got even sloppier, faster, rubbing your clit with such speed you could explode right then and there, your legs began to shake around him.

“Let go, princess. I know you can, ‘know you want to, let it all out for me,” he said, groans getting louder, getting close to his own release himself, two more strokes and you were a dead woman, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, head thrown back, moans louder than ever.

“Fuck, Angel..” he said, pulling out, stroking himself fast, needing his own release, and seeing you like this, cum dripping out of you, it’s just what he needed, it’s the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and now it was ingrained in his mind forever. “Where do you want me, I—“ you whimpered, he was so pretty like this, fucking his hand, head cocked back, groans leaving him.. “T-tummy’s fine—“ and there it was, leaving his cock just seconds later.

His body plopped next to you, hand finding your cheek, caressing it softly. “You did so good for me, Angel..” he smiled softly, you giggled at his compliment, words more innocent than the action you had shared just moments earlier. “Hey, hey let’s get you cleaned up, don’t need you a mess, now do we?” He chucked, leaving the room to grab a washcloth, and coming back with it, wiping his cum off your stomach.

Once you were cleaned up, he had grabbed clothes from your go bag, dressing you slowly, not wanting to overworked your already tired self, “Thank you, Spencer—“ you said softly, almost a whisper, he smiled with pride, “No need to thank me, princess. It wasn’t a favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle, “Mhm, I know— just thought I should thank you, mm never felt that good before, thought that was worth a thanks.”

Once you were in comfy clothes, he had lied next to you, caressing your face, “Angel..” he started, “I’ve gotta go back to my room..” he trailed off, not wanting to leave you like this, sleepy, and alone..

Before he could even finish what he wanted to say, you interrupted him “Don’t—!” He chuckled softly, “I don’t want to, I promise you.. I just need to grab something, okay?” You nodded, but a low groan left your tired lips.

He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, “You’ll be back, right?” your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.

He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, “Right.”

A/N: oh my god this is my first published smut my teeth are jittering, hands shaking… please please PLEASE tell me how I did if you could cause I actually can’t tell how bad or good this is. but yeah, I tried. P.S: this smut has been sitting in my drafts for over a MONTH.

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