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macfrog · 9 days

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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv

to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.

warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 12k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

It’s September twenty-third.

Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.

The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.

You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.

Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.

This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.

This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.

This time in a year, it –

His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”

You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.

“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.

Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.

He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?

You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.

You gulp. Quit fucking staring.

He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”

“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”

Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”

“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”

He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.

“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”

He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”

“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”

He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”

You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”

“Tuesday.”

“Bullshit.”

“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.

But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.

It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.

“How old are you turning?” you ask.

Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.

He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.

You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.

Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.

He doesn’t seem to mind, either.

You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.

The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.

The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.

“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”

“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”

1:29. 1:29. 1:30.

It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.

Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”

The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.

Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.

Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.

You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.

The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.

He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.

Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?

Yeah. They’re half you.

You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.

You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.

But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.

Fuck it.

You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.

Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”

Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.

Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.

There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.

As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.

“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”

He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”

“I’m…I’m in labor.”

“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”

You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”

He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”

The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.

This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.

“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”

Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”

“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”

You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”

There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”

“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.

“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”

“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”

And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.

“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”

His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.

Joel’s panicking.

It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.

“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.

“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”

A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.

“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”

The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.

“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”

He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”

You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”

The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”

Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”

“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”

“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”

“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.

“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”

The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.

Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.

“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”

The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”

“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”

With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.

And then you hear it.

Three sharp raps, from downstairs.

You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Are you…?”

The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.

“Am I what, darlin’?”

You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.

It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.

Knock knock knock.

Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.

The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.

Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”

She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.

Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.

“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”

She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.

You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”

She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”

You shake your head, beginning to cry again.

Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”

You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”

She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”

“Alice, you really don’t have to –”

“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”

You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”

“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”

“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”

The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.

A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.

Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.

You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.

“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”

The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”

“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.

She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.

Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.

You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”

“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”

“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”

“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”

She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”

Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.

Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.

Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.

You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.

You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.

Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.

Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.

Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.

Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.

And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.

The contraction splits your daydream in two.

In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.

You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.

It’s a fucking nightmare.

Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.

It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.

And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.

“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.

Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.

“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”

The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.

Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.

Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.

Safer.

Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.

He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.

You blink your eyes open.

Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.

“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.

You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”

He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.

But – he’s here. He made it.

The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.

He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.

“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”

“How did you get here so –?”

“Ninety-five the entire way.”

You frown. “Only ninety-five?”

“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”

Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.

He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.

“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.

Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”

Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.

“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”

You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.

Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”

He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.

“And what if you’d had an accident?”

“I didn’t, Alice.”

“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”

Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”

You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.

He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.

“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.

She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.

Always watching, always listening.

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.

“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”

Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”

“I’ll call,” he assures.

She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.

Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”

He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Better now,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”

“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”

He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”

You take a deep breath. “I need…”

Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.

“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”

“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”

You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”

“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”

Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.

It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.

Mom.

You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.

I see you every time I look in the mirror.

Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.

The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.

You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.

She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.

She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.

Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –

You.

Her mom.

“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”

He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.

You turn to look up at him.

He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.

“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.

You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.

Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”

“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.

Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.

Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.

You finally fucking get it.

She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.

You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.

Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.

You’re Mom, you’re Dad.

It’s all she’s ever known.

The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.

You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.

None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.

Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”

“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”

An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.

Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.

Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –

This is the thing he’s proudest of.

Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.

Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.

You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.

The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.

The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.

You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.

Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.

You shake your head. “I like watching you.”

He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”

“Me, either.”

He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.

You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.

“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.

“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”

His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”

You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”

He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.

The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.

You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.

Sarah.

And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.

“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”

The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.

Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?

More than the whole world, Mama.

“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”

“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.

You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –

He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.

And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.

Just for a moment.

Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.

He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.

He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.

He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.

But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.

You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.

You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.

Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.

“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.

She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.

He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.

“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”

Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.

He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.

Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.

Every time, it’s a combination of all three.

Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.

You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.

On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.

Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”

He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”

The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.

It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.

Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.

Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.

“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”

His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”

You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.

Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.

His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”

Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”

Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”

“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.

He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.

“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.

You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”

“What did she…? Did she say anything?”

Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”

He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.

“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”

Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”

He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.

“I’m not.”

“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”

A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.

Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.

She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.

He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.

You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”

Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.

“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”

Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”

Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.

She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.

“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.

“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”

Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”

“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”

Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”

You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.

“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”

Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.

You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.

“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”

She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.

Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.

She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.

“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”

The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.

That – and hushed voices in the living room.

“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”

You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.

“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”

“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”

Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.

You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”

Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.

She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.

“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.

You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”

Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”

“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.

Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.

She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.

You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”

Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.

Things could not have gone smoother.

It’s suspicious as shit.

You turn when you hear Joel shifting.

“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.

The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.

You linger in the living room.

Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.

Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.

One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.

Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.

A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.

Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.

You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.

Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.

Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.

Almost.

“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”

You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”

“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”

“You mean the three of us?”

He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.

You hum. “Maybe.”

“You don’t feel like it?”

“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”

He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.

It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.

You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”

Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”

“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”

“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.

He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.

He takes another unsteady breath.

“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”

His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.

“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”

Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”

Your eyes start to sting. You look away.

“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”

He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.

“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”

“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”

“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”

His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”

You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”

“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.

It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.

He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”

Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.

“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.

He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.

“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”

“Wyoming?” you sniff.

“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”

Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.

“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.

Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”

“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.

It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.

And goddamn, you’ve missed it.

Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.

He’s hungry.

He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.

Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.

His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.

“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.

He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.

He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.

You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.

Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.

He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.

Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.

He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.

Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.

He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.

“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.

You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”

Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”

Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.

And then he pushes in.

He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.

You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”

“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”

“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.

You agree, “Tighter.”

He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”

It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.

You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.

Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.

“Feel good?” he pants.

Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”

“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”

“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”

His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.

You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.

I love you, he breathes.

And the world whitens.

He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.

You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.

“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.

He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”

“Do you think we wasted too much time?”

Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”

“Needed a little help, though.”

He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”

You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.

You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.

You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.

“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”

The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.

Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.

“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”

“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”

“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.

Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.

Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”

But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”

Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”

He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.

Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.

Made for each other.

You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.

Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.

You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”

Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.

It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.

You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.

“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”

You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.

There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?

“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.

He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.

“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”

You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.

Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.

She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.

“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”

“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.

Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”

“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.

“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.

“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”

You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”

Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.

She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”

He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”

The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.

Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.

“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”

“And Nel?”

“And Nel.”

“And Mama?”

“And Mama.”

Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.

Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.

She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.

Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.

Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.

He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.

And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.

But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.

Well. Her, and her little sister.

“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”

A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.

“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”

You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.

“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #babydaddy!joel miller #tw pregnancy

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monstas1ut · 19 days

Text

Why you touchin’ me

military! EREN YEAGER x black!reader

Summary

__ eren just needs his girl to give it to him when he finally comes home. he’s been thinking about that super soaker every night… he always does, so of course he’s not going to let you loose or let you decide how this will go.. just keep them ankles high and he won’t be too mean.

Contains

__ black!reader, female reader, eren is in the military, DIRTY TALK, so much dirty talk, dominance, dom eren, overstimulation, squirting, talk of not pulling out, dumb off dick!reader

__ brown skin can be dark, light, medium color, whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous.

__ a/n , hey y’all lol, something slight because I’m just trying to get back into writing because I’m loosing my touch lmaooo

A simple breather couldn’t refill your lungs as the oxygen continued to be ripped from you. Those words made you lose every brain cell that was ever created in your human body. There was intensity that poured over your golden skin as your blurred eyes could only see the sparkle from his dangling chain.

“Ankles.”

Only a desperate attempt to whine could come from you. Your glossy, darkly lined lips parted only to reveal that you were drooling from the overtaking pleasure. Your hands were around your ankles, much to his liking as your head began spinning.

It was beginning to be embarrassing at how wet you were, how dumb you felt. That sweet, curved dick that slipped in each time with a smothering rhythm made you feel as if your insides were being pushed against. Your sounds, and each word that dripped from your lips, he was listening. He missed it so much that there was no way he was going to lose focus.

“Eren~ baby~… Fuck! M-My pussy so fuckin’ wet..” Those words were drenched in tears as your pussy coated Eren’s cock with warm nectar. And he enjoyed watching it pool around the base of his cock, juicy and wet. It was so gushy that his pretty eyes failed to leave it.

“I fucking see… I got that pussy talkin to me..” Eren talked to you as he pounded that hole open, his rough hands gripping hard on your pretty hips. The depths of your insides were being stretched open all over again, and you could feel it part ways with his cock.

Those army green pants he wore were now damp as they were just below his cock. He obviously couldn’t wait. Once seeing you stand there waiting for him, he had to have you the second he got home. He pulled your pretty dress off and pulled your gorgeous breasts out of your bra to worship you with kisses. But inevitably he found himself so eager to have you, he couldn’t even prepare himself for how fast he pulled his own pants and underwear down.

He just missed that pretty pussy.

It was such a soft brown, yet a bright pink on the inside, like a mystery treat. He knew how it tasted, he knew how it felt, but he still couldn’t get enough of it. He couldn’t get enough of watching your face contort into those pleasurable expressions. He couldn’t get enough of your stupid little babbles when you’d be filled up with his dick. And he surely couldn’t get enough of you soaking him like a damn water park.

With painted toes curling high in the air, you tried to keep the hard grip on your ankles. However with each thrust was a powerful force behind each one, so much that your breasts would plap against each other while falling up and down. The ripples of skin were also enough to know how strong the thrusts were, as if he was back on the battlefield trying to fight for his life. But in this case, it seemed as if Eren was fighting to make you dumb off his cock.

The head of his cock met the hot air each time, slipping right back in with your wetness lubricating the both of you well. There was absolutely no struggle to slip out and slip right back in, not when your body was producing so much lubricant. It was so wet that it felt almost numb, you couldn’t feel anything but the pleasurable pounding near your cervix. It was such a intricate, surreal feeling that there was barely any word to describe it. The only thing you could understand was that you were too close to fucking the bed sheets up,

“Ooo-…Ooh fuck! Fuck!.. No-.. shit-..” there was a sharp feeling in your stomach that felt like small jolts of orgasms. Oh it felt so odd, and it made you so anxious. Your pussy squeezed, and it had a grip on his fair skinned cock and yet he was still pounding through. It was an overwhelming feeling for your body to endure, so much so that your fingers slipped and your ankles fell from your grip.

The second this happened you had no choice but to close your legs, trying to prevent that sweet, intense orgasm you knew was coming. Fate was sealed, and the rumble that came from Eren’s throat was a warning. But for some reason, you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Put them fuckin’ legs back up. Grab them damn ankles.. stop playin with me..” Eren’s face was inches from yours, your eyes watering up with pleasured tears once again before grabbing a hold of your ankles. Your glistening pussy was being rammed into over and over again, and you simply couldn’t take it.

“Stop runnin from that nut.” Eren huskily whispered, obviously becoming desperate for his own orgasm. He groaned from the bottom of his stomach, his head thrown back for a second before he moved to look back down at your tightening pussy, that’s before it relaxed and he felt the sudden wetness increase. This caused him to thrust just a tad bit harder because he knew you. He still understood what made you cum, what made you cream, and what made you squirt.

“Fuck yeah… hold em’ open..” Eren almost hissed at how sexy you were, the drips of juices squirting up in the air ever so gently and landing on his cock. It all made him want to cum right there. “Eren! Eren!….Oooh~ shit~… please!” You begged, moaned, and almost felt yourself losing your body as your pussy had a mind of its own. Each time Eren would slide his dick out, you’d squirt your soft juices in the air before he’d slam right back inside you. The gushing noises made you seem like a whore for him.. in more ways than one.

“That’s fucking right.. Squirt on that dick baby.. good fucking girl..” Eren almost spoke through his teeth as his cock was sensitive, he pulled it out and grabbed his dick to run it up and down those pretty brown lips only to watch you squirm and drench the bed underneath you. The wet sounds of you splashing him was music to his ears, so he couldn’t stop.. not until you had nothing left in you.

“Please~! Fuck Eren! Stop that fucking shit…!” Your words were covered in sounds you could not contain, the pleasure was so unbelievable you couldn’t even imagine how your body was doing this. That man’s lower stomach was covered in your squirt, and his cock, which throbbed the second he went back inside.

You gripped your ankles so hard that you might leave bruises, and yet.. you couldn’t care. This man was beating your pussy up even more, overstimulating you as your eyes rolled back slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you eventually stared up at him with blurred vision.

“Run from it again… I swear on me I won’t pull out..”

#anime x black!reader #black reader #ambw #ambw bwam #aot x black reader #eren jaeger #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #black reader smut #smut #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan

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ceeptsd · 2 years

Text

im sick and tired of being forced to function at a level that im not capable of sustaining. im disabled. im autistic. most autistic people cant hold a job and maybe im just one of them. maybe its just too fucking hard for me. or maybe im just done trying.

#this world was not meant for me #and i dont wish to live here anymore #im sick of hearing that i have to be strong #that i function so well #DOES THIS LOOK WELL FUNCTIONING TO YOU #I HVE MELTDOWNS EVERY GOD DAMN DAY #im just so tired #im so tired #why cant i just be comfortable #why cant i be happy #oh im having a trauma moment #ok #i need to take a breather #.txt

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earthtooz · 1 year

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ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS

rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS

thats all

I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.

imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.

in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.

but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.

then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.

all because of a damn kiss cam.

you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.

anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.

the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.

yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?

you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...

"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.

until you hear him.

"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.

your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.

however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.

itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.

"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.

the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.

before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.

he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.

"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33

—

#this was so short #but i took the idea and ran with it tbh #UNEDITED LMFAOOOOO #OOO jumpscare #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earf's itoshi rin rambles

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flowrmoth · 13 days

Text

...and then what happened?

DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Synopsis: your date last night with another girl got real juicy and ellie couldn't help but ask about it...

AN: okay so... this is my first drabble/oneshot so i'm sorry if it sucks. also idk where this idea came from, i just love the idea of ellie being a flustered mess bcus of you hihi (also english is my second language so yeah)

wc: 1.9k

warnings: mdni!!! sexual themes, not really smut, pining, lowkey loser!ellie/perv!ellie?, ellies just obsessed with u ok?, reader being oblivious, no mentions of Y/N or readers looks! (the photos are just for the aesthetic),

"So yeah, in conclusion, I totally beat Jesses ass. He doesn't know shit about pool." you laughed, getting comfortable on Ellies couch.

It was a relaxing Sunday night. You decided to spend the warm evening hanging out with Ellie, one of your closest friends. You definitely needed a breather after a long week of work. Ellie had informed you that she coped some weed from her dealer, so of course, you said yes to a smoke sesh.

You came prepared, nights like these at her place always meant that you would probably end up sleeping over and watching cheesy movies while covered in buttery popcorn and chocolate.

Now, you were sprawled out on her worn out, brown couch in your pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Ellies outfit and position mimicking yours, her long legs stretched out in front of her, eyes glued to the insanely boring Sci-Fi movie she picked out and a joint in hand. You were recalling the events of last Friday when you went out with Dina and Jesse and when you finally beat Jesse at pool.

"Damn, can't believe you beat the master himself. He won't ever live that down." Ellie chuckled, taking a drag from the newly lit spliff she rolled before you came over. She looked over at you with tired eyes and smiled. Fuck, she was never getting over this crush. To be honest, Ellie couldn't fucking stop thinking about you. Every day, every second, you were the only thing on her mind. But of course, she was too afraid to do anything about it, too scared that she would fuck everything up and lose you if she confessed. So she decided to remain quiet and enjoy you from afar, basking in your beauty ever time you would sleep in her bed or smoke her weed.

"Duh, I'm a hundred times better than him." you said with a smirk, looking over at Ellie and taking the joint from her slender fingers.

Fuck.

She just remembered. You had a date last night. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You've been raving about this girl, Sarah or whatever the hell her name was, for weeks. Some girl that was coming to your work and finally asked you out last week. Ellie broke a sweat. She had to know what happened.

Did you kiss?

Did you fuck?

God, she'd hoped not.

"Hey, um, how was your date last night? With Sarah?" she asked sheepishly, trying not to sound to dry and nervously fiddling with her ear. She looked over at you and your eyes widened.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Her name's Sophia, Ellie, you know this." you jumped in your seat from excitement and turned your body to face Ellie. "Yeah, yeah, Sophia. Whatever. How was it?" Ellie rolled her eyes, not really caring for the girl.

You sat criss-cross from her, beaming with happiness. You couldn't wait to tell Ellie about the night. "Okay, so, you know that new restaurant?" you ranted with a big smile, retelling Ellie all about the dinner you had, the drinks you ordered and the pretty flowers your date had brought you, but all Ellie could think about was if you went home with the girl. She focused on the TV while you talked, looking over at you with brief glances, too afraid you might notice the disappointment and jealousy twinkling in her eyes or the way her fingers were gripping the joint so tightly she thought it might rip in half.

That girl hadn't even bought you the right damn flowers, or ordered the right drink. She didn't fucking know anything about you. Ellie knew that your favorite flowers weren't roses, far from it, and who the hell orders tequila for a first date? You were clearly a 'daises and whiskey' kinda girl. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

After the part about the dinner and what not, you finally got to the part about going to Sophias apartment, which Ellie had secretly hoped had not happened. Ellie felt her heart drop and a cold sweat ran from her head right to her stomach. Fuck.

"Then, she asked me if I wanted to smoke, so of course I agreed immediately. I was nervous anyways because she was so hot, you know? Figured it would calm me down." you talked, moving your hands excitedly while Ellie was just nodding along, trying to match your energy as best as she could. She cringed at the word 'hot'.

"Wait, I'm gonna re-enact exactly what happened, 'cus damn, she knew what she was doing!" you laughed, definitely enjoying the replay of last night. Ellies mouth was dry. What the fuck do you mean re-enact what happened?

"And then, she sat on the couch and was all like 'Come here'." you made sure to put on a seductive voice and manspread a bit, while motioning your finger, trying to act out the scene as you remembered. At this point, Ellie was fucked. She prayed the story would be over soon so she could stop imagining you with someone that's not her.

Someone else's hands touching you, caressing you, tracing their fingers around every damn curve of your body that she so badly wanted to feel. It was too much for her.

"Yeah?" Ellie whispered, throwing a questioning look your way. Her hands were getting clammy and the joint was starting to die out.

"Yeah, and then..." you eye her up and down "I kind of like, straddled her. Like this." you chuckled, enjoying the recreation of previous events.

Slowly, you got up from your criss-cross position and started moving towards Ellies side of the couch. Your stare was a dangerous one, one that Ellie has never seen before. Her breath hitched and she swallowed thickly. She could feel the hairs on her neck standing up. Her bangs sticking to her slightly damp forehead.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You were definitely too high, because what the hell is happening?

Your hazy, drunken stare set onto her panicked one. Your hands made their way to Ellies shoulders, gripping them for support. One of your legs swung over Ellies and settled at the side of her thighs, straddling them.

"Then," you took the joint from her shaky fingers and brought it up to your lips, taking a long drag "she did something like this." with a whisper, your hand cupped Ellies cheeks and squeezed them lightly so her lips would part. As you got closer to her face, you blew the thick smoke into her mouth. Ellies eyes immediately darted to your lips and her own got dry with nervousness. She puffed out the rest of the smoke.

Her words were caught in her throat, but she had to say something. Anything. Just to make you stay in this position longer.

"And, um... And then what?" Great fucking question, Ellie. Her voice came out small and hushed. She swore she tried not to sound too tense, but with your fucking perfect thighs sitting on her own, your perfect face so close to hers, your perfect perfume, that she would sometimes steal to from your purse and quickly spray on her wrist, was invading her space completely. She was awestruck, but still tried to play it cool like this wasn't the best thing that has happened to her. Her hands automatically moved to your plush thighs, giving them a light squeeze.

You let out a laugh and whispered, putting out the spliff in the ashtray next to you "And then, um, I don't know. She did this thing, on my neck, that felt so good, but I don't know how to do it." this was actually one of your first sexual/romantic experiences with someone, so it was still new and you still didn't really know what you were doing. You just thought you were sharing a great experience with a great friend.

"Y-yeah? What thing?" Ellie tried to egg you on with a nervous chuckle. This was too good to be true for it to be over so soon. She didn't dare move her hand from your legs, not even an inch. She could bet that her face looked like a fucking tomato right now from how hard she was blushing, but she didn't care when the prettiest girl she had ever seen was in her fucking lap.

"Something likes this..." you bow your head to meet your lips with Ellies neck. Your mouth hadn't even grazed her pulse point, but you could already feel it quickening. You press your lips to her sweet spot, just for a moment, before opening your mouth and sucking in her skin lightly. Her skin tasted so sweet, so soft, with a hint of her signature wood-y perfume and natural scent.

Ellie rolled her eyes so hard she thought she was seeing heaven. She was trying so hard not to let out a stifled moan that was threatening to escape her throat. That will definitely leave a hickey. You let her neck go, kissing the newly bruised spot once or twice, now moving your mouth to her jaw and peppering kisses along the way. Your hand eventually found its way to the back of Ellies head, tangling your fingers in her auburn locks.

Ellie couldn't help but squeeze your thighs, giving you encouragement to continue, her long fingers digging into your soft flesh. She tried so hard to not slide her hands up your thighs and under your pajama shorts. She felt every fucking inch of you underneath her. Your legs squeezing hers, your chests so unbelievably close, one of your hands resting on her shoulder while the other one was working its way through her messy hair. She was so aware of your pelvis pressing into hers, she prayed that you couldn't feel her every goddamn pulse.

You finished off your performance with a quick, delicate kiss at the corner of her lips as you slid away your hands from her body, leaving her all sweaty and worked up. You climbed off of her and went back to your side of the couch, completely unaware of the fucking effect you have on Ellie.

Ellie almost whimpered when she felt your heat leave her, suddenly feeling cold and empty without your body on hers. Like a missing puzzle piece. She shifted upwards and cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears with her shaky palms, rubbing them on her grey shorts. She didn't dare look at you, fearing that you would see her wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Sorry, I hope that wasn't that bad." you glance at Ellie and say with an unknowing smile, acting like nothing happened. Like the greatest thing that Ellie has ever witnessed didn't just occur. You returned to your phone, probably texting the girl whose kisses you just acted out.

Ellie felt sick. Sick with want and sick with the fact that that wasn't real. What just happened wasn't real, but holy fuck, did she enjoy it.

"Yeah, no, that was, uh, good. Wow. Can't believe s-she did all that." she tried to stutter out with closed eyes and clenched fists, getting up from the couch.

"Right? I know!" you returned. "I'm just gonna go to- Yeah, be right back." Ellie said quickly while making her way to the bathroom, almost tripping on her own feet in the process.

She swiftly got in and went straight to the sink. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, not the mention the beads of sweat on her forehead and the damp spot that formed beneath her black boxers. Fuck, she was so embarrassed that only a fucking kiss on the neck got her so worked up. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water, looking at herself in the mirror.

Fuck, Ellie was so in love with you.

#jgiowrjfiworj hope this was good #my pieces #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou #ellie x reader

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice.

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hbo #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n

4K notes · View notes

getodrools · 1 month

Note

angry sex with nanami but he’s usually always a sweetheart to you…. do you see my vision 🌚

ᯓ★ warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, veryy angry desk sex, he's veryy passive-aggressive, slight bondage ( his tie ), gag ( readers panties sob ), spanking, orgasm denial, edging-ish, cum shot.

NANAMI IS TOO BUSY for this attitude. Of course, reminding you that too—Well, twice too many now, “It's such an inconvenience when you start this, sweetheart.” Gentle voice soothing to ears, but the hard press of his cockhead nudging an unfathomable wreck into your pussy aches.

Nanami sighs… a mix with the adrenaline of pumping an angry hard-on into gummy walls and crude annoyance. He had a growing mean boner, the kind that was pent up from frustration and was filled with the need to ooze it out into you – throbbing to show you why giving him his time to work is very important!

Yet, you lived to act up—to be a brat, and scoot his papers away for his attention. Tsk tsk, he'd remind you how those very papers is what gets you spoiled if he turns them in… But the way you kept weeping and groaning, even flicking his items off his desk, tugging at his pant leg, and closing his laptop right in the middle of an email! Toiled his very last nerve with you.

“Don't you start.” Your wanton moans turned into whines, well from what he could hear through the soiled panties stuffed between your lips, “Weren’t you just bothering me for this? So take it.” Oh but you were trying!

It's just that having your ass—now littered in clear marks of his fingerprints—hanging off the very edge of his desk – you so toyed with, was growing an everlong pit in your tummy… Knees folded and pressing into cold marble, chest mushed too, even with wrists wrapped in a knot; folded into his mottled tie behind your back, you couldn't cease his onslaught for a breather.

The twist in limbs made ease for Nanami to fuck right up into you. Straining your arms back further as he’d snatch up the knot to force your body with his, and at each drag of his strong hips, the log of meat would fill your pussy right out.

Dammnit! This time was his working time!

When the clock ticked a ringing minute, it'd remind him of all the paperwork he should be filling out right now! But having your spoiled self balled up and cluttering his desk instead of work, he couldn't help but prowl even harder.

Shaking his head like a disappointed dad, “Maybe if you didn't always bother me, I might get work done on time,” He swears he's growing greys, “And then maybe, we'd have more time together, and this wouldn't have—” A clammy palm strikes a fierce bolt down the crack of your ass, “To happen.” And another… Nanami is a very patient man, especially when it comes to you, but today was a damn busy day!

Muffling out pleas, your eyes flutter at the meddling thwacks scratching down bare skin.

He was furious. Upset, annoyed, all of the above. And when tightend balls swung into your puffy hood, eliciting wet claps had your sappy entrance weeping. The deep strokes made all of you shiver, and vile swats to your backside was expressing it all very vividly… Let alone from the obvious and the mean clamor in his voice each time he'd grunt out exactly why you were pissing him off…

Your head bobbed like a damn bobblehead, like the very one on his desk you were just poking at—but dangling off the edge, the design of the carpet below you began to whirl and swirl around. Mind boggling at the tight clench your pussy ceases with as Nanami barrels into your core. You were on the brink of being a broken damn— a flood ready to just spurt out, but the selfish man unplugs your little hole.

“Nu-uh.” Worming himself out – almost hesitantly, but he stuck to the lesson you needed… sticky, translucent webs glob around his thick base as driplets trickle-down your knobbly thighs; shaking at how close you've got to cloud nine and beyond…

Heaving through sappy fabric mashed between teeth, you slump down, whining. Kicking your toes Nanami chuckles at your little shimmy.

“Oh? You don't like it when you can't get something done?” The irony in his voice irked your gears right off!

With sobs falling pliant to deaf ears, he was too busy mashing himself between your ridden and swollen doughy globes to finish himself off. Slipping with your muck and sliding between torn cheeks, he rushes down against your body; nth inches throbbing in bitterness and grinding against your perk holes ‘till hot cum shot out his rubbery tip. Feeling his messy high splatter a thick pool down the curvature of your back, whining to feel yours, but as shot after shot trickled against your skin, reality settled.

Expecting forehead kisses and apologies to his roughness, maybe even a warm bath… but Nanami tucked himself back into his pants, pulled his chair up, and turned his computer back on.

… Long, dreading hours of being trapped in that burly position on the corner of his desk was rotten of him! – He went right back to work! Leaving you folded with cum drying out into your skin as your pussy oozed out in the bare open, still hanging right off the uncomfortable ledge of his desk…

Nanami acted like you weren't even there. Those taps on his computer and soft hums were antagonizing as you were wriggled limp and helplessly right next to him.

That snobby, spoiled little attitude was surely fixed…

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: MORE NANAMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#ᝰ kento nanami!#nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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worldlxvlys · 3 months

Text

collide

matt sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, grinding

a/n: hope you enjoyyyy <33

“thank you guys so much for all the support and coming out here tonight” i said into the microphone.

the audience members replied with deafening applause and cheers.

i laughed into the microphone, still soaking in this unreal experience.

i had gotten about halfway through my set, and now was just taking a quick breather.

“i also wanted to give a huge thank you to my best friends, for always being there for me and constantly showering me with love and support” i said as i glanced over to the triplets.

best friends. well, two of them were my best friends. matt, however, was more than that to me.

we were dating, but we hadn’t told the fans yet, not wanting to deal with the hate that would most likely come with it.

but the fans aren’t dumb.

due to their insane attention to details, they were easily able to pick up on the feelings that matt and i had for one another. they just didn’t know that we’ve acted on them.

once i put out my first album of songs, titled chemistry, the fans quickly realized i was with someone. they had their suspicions, but i never confirmed that it was about matt.

most of the tracks on the album were love songs that i wrote over the years. they weren’t even necessarily for matt, i just wrote them whenever i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him and needed a way to get them out.

song writing helped me to process my feelings, and it just so happens that matt takes up almost every thought in my brain.

“i wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys and i’ll never truly be able to put into words how grateful i am” i said while looking at the boys in the VIP section.

in response, nick smiled and blew kisses while recording the interaction, like a proud mom at their child’s performace; chris did an awkward happy dance and screamed “we love you!” , and matt sat there with a lovesick look on his face and a shit-eating grin.

after a few more, we got to my favorite song on the setlist.

“this next song, literally just came out and is already doing so well, and i thank you for that” i was met with more applause.

after introducing the song, the first few chords played and then stopped, teasing the audience.

they went wild. after a few seconds, the intro really started to play.

MATT’S POV

i been knowing you for long enough

damn, i need you right now

she looks so good. her outfit was tight, fitting her in all the right places and accentuating her curves.

you can take your time, don’t have to rush

this might take us a while

she sounds incredible live. her voice is smooth as she effortlessly slides through the runs, never missing a note.

i left all the doors unlocked and you said you’re on your way

when you get here don’t you say a word, got no time to play

she might genuinely be a siren, luring me in with her seductive, yet somehow sweet and innocent-sounding voice. her tone is crystal clear and it almost makes me want to cry.

we can go all the time

we can move fast, then rewind

when you put your body on mine

and collide, collide

she starts to sway her hips to the beat, and i genuinely think i might lose it.

wanna see your body on mine

and collide, collide

her skin is coated with a light layer of sweat, making her body glisten under the lights. she looks like a goddess.

baby it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

she looked directly at me when she sang this line, and the feeling of the intense eye contact went straight to my dick.

put it down if you want me tonight

she smirked lightly, no doubt enjoying how red my face was turning. she knows what she’s doing.

she made her way through the song, continuing to tease me. she would slowly run a hand down her body or lean forward to sing to the crowd, giving me a perfect view of her breasts.

god, they look like they’re gonna fall out of her top.

when she got to the bridge, i swear the sound of her voice alone almost made my eyes roll back.

i know that this is love when we touch boy

you got my heart

and can’t nobody make me feel like you do

boy like you do

the fact that there was so much tension between us, despite being so far away was driving me crazy.

it could be one of those nights

where we don’t turn off the lights

wanna see your body on mine and collide, collide

i could listen to the sound of her voice for the rest of my life.

i love it when she talks, when she laughs, when she sings, when she moans.

i swear when she hits certain notes, it almost sounds like she’s moaning. but no one else knows that, because i’m the only one who pulls those sounds from her pretty mouth.

those pretty lips, always soft and glossy, perfect for kissing.

by this point, my dick was throbbing as it pressed against my jeans.

said it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

put it down if you want me

let’s collide

her head fell back as she finished the last note, basking in the endless amounts of applause she received.

her neck looks so pretty, i need to kiss it.

she looks up at me again, moving her tongue across her teeth.

yeah, she’s definitely doing this on purpose.

the further she got through her setlist, the more turned on i was.

her tits bounced when she jumped around during her upbeat songs.

at one point, she was full-on twerking. she threw her ass in a circle, her skirt riding up the slightest bit. i fully thought i was going to cum in my pants.

after she finished the last song, she began to adjust her skirt while she gave her closing speech. when she moved her hand, i saw the waistband of her panties peek through.

waistband, if you could even call it that. it became evident that she was wearing a g-string under her skirt.

i completely zoned out of what she was saying, too focused on all of the filthy thoughts that began to flood my mind.

before i knew it, there was another round of applause before she walked off of the stage.

suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

READER POV

after a few minutes, i heard a knock on my dressing room door.

i opened the door to reveal matt and i quickly pulled him in before closing and locking the door.

“hi baby” i whispered.

“hi my love” he said before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

“you did amazing, baby. and you sound better and better every time you sing”

i looked down bashfully, the corner of my lips turning up into a grin. “thanks”

he placed his finger under my chin, pushing it up to look at him.

“ you shy now, baby? didn’t seem like it when you were shaking your ass on that stage”

i glanced at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“you liked that, baby?” i asked as i turned around, moving my hair over my shoulder.

i began to grind on him, moving my ass on his hard dick.

“fuck yes, baby. shittt” he groaned as one of his hands wrapped around my waist, the other moving to grab my boob through my top.

the hand that was around my waist moved under my panties, gently rubbing my clit.

“fuckkkk matt” i sighed out, my head pressing against the door.

his breathing got heavy as he rutted his hips against my ass, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.

“talk to me baby, please. gotta here that pretty voice” he choked out as his voice got slightly higher in pitch.

“ yeah baby? like the way my ass feels against your bulge? want me to twerk on you?” before he could answer, i bent over slightly.

my skirt inched up, exposing my ass and making his fully erect cock dig into it.

“fuck! you can’t do that, baby. i’m gonna cum”

“take these off for me” i said, pulling on his jeans.

he quickly complied, unbuckling his belt and pulling them off while i turned around to face him.

he swiftly picked me up, bringing me over to a vanity and placing me down on top of it.

my back was pressed up against the mirror, which was cool against my burning skin.

he brought his lips to mine in a hot, desperate kiss.

his hands crept under my skirt, pulling my panties off without breaking the kiss.

he smoothly pocketed them before collecting my wetness with his finger, using it as a lubricant to push his digit inside of me.

“shit, matt” i moaned out as he fucked me with his finger.

i reached down between us, stroking his length through his boxers.

he added another finger, stretching me out.

“oh my god, matt. so fucking good” my eyebrows furrowed as i leaned my forehead against his.

“gotta make sure my princess is nice and stretched, never wanna hurt you” he spoke between grunts.

i moved my fingers to the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and watching his dick slap his stomach.

his tip was red and covered in pre-cum.

he removed his fingers from my aching pussy while i pumped him a few times, before guiding him inside of me.

we both groaned at the feeling of my walls squeezing him as i took him inch by inch.

he gave me a minute to adjust before thrusting into me deep and hard.

i screamed his name, probably loud enough for anyone outside of the room to hear.

“yes baby, lemme hear that gorgeous voice. god, i love hearing you say my name”

matt pushed his hips up into mine with full force, his hands on my waist to hold me steady.

“you feel so good wrapped around me like this baby. you’re so good” he whispered.

he pushed me into the mirror with each thrust, producing a loud thud each time it hit the wall.

the vanity shook under me as he kept up his relentless pace.

matt took my legs and hooked them over his shoulder, continuing to ram into me.

i felt my orgasm approaching, and i grabbed onto matt’s biceps, needing something to hold onto.

“matt matt matt, i’m gonna cum!” i yelled frantically.

“me too, give it to me baby. wanna feel you dripping down my cock” his words sent me over the edge.

with a final cry i released all over him, while he filled me up.

he thrusted a few more times, helping us ride out our highs before pulling out.

“god damn” i whispered out as we watched our juices spill out of me.

“you’re so fucking amazing” he said as he cleaned us up.

after we got dressed and made our appearances look somewhat presentable we stepped out of the dressing room.

“where are your brothers?” i asked with furrowed brows.

i pulled out my phone and saw a text from nick.

we’re going outside to wait. we can hear you freaky fucks from across the venue.

matt and i looked at each other and bursted out laughing.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

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cherryredstars · 6 months

Note

how would simon be w an s/o who's very sensitive both emotionally and physically??☹️😢 sfw&nsfw pls🥺🫠 ur writing is amazing bb hope u're doin great🤍🌸

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, 18+, NSFW Labeled

Summary: Things SImon does when dating an emotionally and physically sensitive reader

A/N: Why are you guys being so relatable lately wtf?? I’m physically sensitive too!!!

Word Count: 1.3K (Not Edited)

SFW

Simon is slightly relieved to know you’re sensitive to touch. While your reasons may be different from his, it gives him a breather. It alleviates the pressure of having to be physically intimate right away. Both of you ease into it, figuring out what works and what doesn’t. What pace is right? What’s too much? What’s too little? What’s just right? You both learn to become comfortable touching each other.

As you guys begin to become comfortable touching each other, he begins to realize your sensitivity isn’t going anywhere. That’s okay, he’s built to adapt. Instead of holding your hands fully, he doesn’t press his palm against yours so it doesn’t trigger your senses. He’ll link your pinky with his when locking hands is still too much. If touching your hand is too much? He’s encouraging you to put your hands into his pocket so you can still hold onto him without directly touching his body. If you have a certain way you do something, like cuddling or hand holding, he makes sure to memorize it and makes sure it's to your liking every time.

He’s analytical, observant. He takes notes of what fabrics and materials you like. What’s too fluffy, what’s too scratchy, how long can you handle touching those things? What food textures are gross, how long can you eat something before the realization of its texture hits? After he knows these things, he becomes considerate of them. He’ll only give you his sweaters and shirts that are made of the right fabrics, going out to buy more if he doesn’t have a lot or none at all. When he orders food or makes things for you when you come over to his flat, he’s only preparing your safe foods. If his sheets and pillows are too scratchy or soft, he’s taking you to the nearest department store to find ones you approve of. The couch is in need of a replacement anyways if you find the cushions too scratchy. He’s even changing his cologne if it smells too strong and he’s stocked up on candles and air fresheners that are of your favorite scents. His apartment is always aired out when there is food so the smell doesn’t get trapped inside.

He’s hyper aware of your feelings all of the time. He had to learn how to do it first. It left him shocked when you thought he was upset or on the verge of breaking up with you because of his unintentional tone when he speaks to you. He tries to fix his behaviors, giving you signs to show how he’s feeling. It’s weird for him, expressing his feelings outright instead of keeping them close to his chest. But he finds that it comforts you, eases that anxiety in your mind. He’s willing to do it if it makes you happy.

He’s always checking up on you, making sure everything is alright. Is it too loud here? Does your food taste alright? Does the lighting bother you? Do you want to switch seats? Is it too hot, too cold? While he might not be able to control everything around him, he tries to make it better for your sake. He’s protective of you and he wants to make sure you’re having fun no matter what the two of you are doing.

Simon always gives the taskforce a talk before they come to see you or you come to base. Simon is used to the boys’ banter and jokes, but you might not be. Simon knows Johnny likes to pick fun at things, it's just how his humor is. But Simon will be damned if Johnny says something that hurts your feelings or makes you uncomfortable. So he gives them a little run through of what’s acceptable and what’s not. You had arrived earlier than expected one time, laughing as you overheard. If the boys, or anyone for that matter, start to say something that he knows is going to bother you in any shape or form, he shuts it down quickly with a glare or a clearing of his throat.

He knows sometimes the weather makes you feel yucky. He knows it affects your mood and you don’t prefer to do certain things depending on the weather. He’s prepared for everything. He’s constantly checking his weather apps, (yes there are multiple so he can be more accurate), to see how the day will play out. He’s prepared for the slightest possibility of snow or rain. He has everything you like to do for every weather forecast and he knows the best ways to cheer you up on the yucky days.

He knows that him leaving on deployment is the hardest thing for you. So he tries to make the leave smooth. He’s spending the last few days of leave with you and doing whatever you want. He’s cuddling and talking you through the process over and over again. He reminds you how much he loves you, how he’ll do everything he can to make it back home to you, reassures you that it pains him too whenever he leaves you and how much he’s going to miss you. He reminds you of all the things he leaves behind for when you really miss him, who you can contact on base in case of emergencies that you need to send to him. He wakes the two of you up extra early on the day he leaves so you can get the peak of your emotions out while he’s still here for you.

NSFW

He loves to see how far he can push you, with your permission of course. He’s melting ice cubes on your skin as he devours your sex, his cold fingers touching that gummy spot inside you until you're crying from the sensation. He’ll purposely keep his hands cold, washing them in icy cold water before he touches you so he can see the way you shiver at his touch.

He loves bringing in toys. He presses vibrates to your nipples and sex, watching the way your body tries to jump away from the stimulation. He brings things to brush against your skin, watching leather and silk ghost over your skin until you're a shivering and whimpering mess.

He likes the idea of sensory deprivation with you. Loves making you wear ear plugs or earmuffs that drown out the noise, making you startle at every touch. If you’ll allow him and promise, absolutely promise that you’ll communicate clearly, he’ll blindfold you with soft material and see how much more sensitive you get.

Loves small, delicate slaps and rubbing against you. Small slaps that only surprise you, not hurt, to your ass, your cheek, or to your sex. He’s quickly soothing over it, rubbing the skin to make any sting go away. He loves working you up, massaging your skin in his rough hands. He likes rubbing you, rubbing his hands or legs against your body. Especially loves dragging and nudging his cock against your sex and lips.

Loves going down on you and fingering because you won’t stop moving. You’re always squirming, closing your thighs and trying to kick and push him off because it just feels so good and you can’t control a single thing your body is doing in response to Simon’s foreplay expertise.

He loves how easy and explosive your releases are. A few strokes from his tongue, fingers, or cock has you spirling over the edge. You moan and mewl, throwing your head back as you sob and breath heavily. But it’s never enough for him. He’s ripping orgasm after orgasm from you. Sometimes it isn’t even intentional, you just end up cumming. You always get overstimulated once he’s done with you.

He sets up safewords, and he encourages you--no, he begs-- you to use them when you need them. He reassures you that he cares more about your comfort than getting off. If anything becomes too much you have to tell him. He uses the color system. Yellow for when you need a break and red as a hard stop. While he wants to test your limits, he doesn’t want to push you too far away from safety. If you ever grow too sensitive or didn’t like the way something felt on your body it’s important to him that you tell him instantly.

#cherry's requests🍒#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod ghost #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cod simon riley

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succubusmunson · 7 months

Text

warnings: cnc, ghostface!eddie, reader being chased, degradation, teasing, begging, pet names, name calling, mentions of a knife kink, public sex, creampie

Corner after corner, you look for a hiding place to take a breather. What you thought would be a nice night out took a turn when a masked man took a great infatuation with you. You were separated from your friends and all the other groups wanting to enjoy the haunted house. At first, you thought this was normal, but now you were away from everyone, and it wasn’t normal.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?” You were pushed against the wall, trapped between it and the man in the Ghostface mask. “A pretty girl like you should’ve thought better.”

You looked up at him, barely able to see the wickedly dark glint in his eyes because of the mesh of the mask. Words were trapped in the back of your throat as he kicked your feet apart and placed his leg between yours, pressing it right against your cunt.

“Have you been this wet all day? You’re starting to make a mess.” His voice was low and a bit raspy, speaking next to your ear. “Or do you just like being manhandled?”

“I-“ You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, but the feel of his leg flexing against your cunt has your skin starting to sweat and your mouth going dry.

A rough hand ran up the sides of your body, forming goosebumps in its way before stopping at the base of your head and pulling your hair. “I knew I picked the right girl from your group, knew you’d be the perfect slut to let me do whatever I want.”

“No…” You tried to shake his head, but he only pulled harder, making you wince in pain (and a little bit of pleasure). “I-I’m not a slut.”

“So that isn’t your clit throbbing that I feel?” With his other hand, he quickly pushed past your pants and panties, quickly finding your clit. “God damn, sweetheart. You’re fucking soaked.”

There was no denying it now, not with his fingers toying at your clit, running slow figure eights on it. You tried your best to hold back the moans, biting your lip so hard that blood hit your tastebuds.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” His fingers dipped lower, teasing your hole as it clenched around nothing. “No one will know that you’re screaming over my fingers scissoring you open. I gotta get you ready for my cock, don’t I?”

You whined at his words, your whole body betraying you. “Please… don’t.” You weren’t putting up the best fight. Your body knew what it needed, and so did you.

He turned you around and pressed your face into the wall. “Stay still, got it?” You heard him unzip his pants before he pulled down yours enough to have your cunt out. “I wanna hear how pretty you scream with my cock deep inside you.”

Without warning, he slid into the hilt. His heavy balls pressed against your clit. It took you by surprise how fast he was, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Fuck- such a tight pussy.” He grabbed your hips and fucked you up and down on his cock, his eyes never leaving where he disappeared inside you.

Thrust after thrust, your head became fogged from how good his cock felt, filling you up with every inch of it.

“Y-yes! Right there!” You couldn’t think about how wrong this was when the tip of cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot.”

“That’s it, keep squeezing my fucking cock.” He brought his head down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Maybe I should’ve- shit- brought my knife and carved my initials into your pretty skin, make you remember this night forever.”

You moaned loudly over his words, your eyes closing as your legs began to shake. “Oh- oh my fucking god.”

“You gonna cum already?” He brought his hand down in a swift spank, the skin of your ass sting. It had incoherent words falling from your lips. “Pathetic.”

You don’t know if it’s being able to feel every vein of his cock as he fucks into you so hard that you’ll see bruises from his hips tomorrow morning or if it was the way he called you pathetic, but you couldn’t hold your orgasm back any longer.

Your back arched as you dragged your nails down the wall, and pornographic screams fell from you as your orgasm shook every inch of your body. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop- please!”

“Soak my cock, sweetheart.”

“E-Eddie!” You couldn’t keep up the act anymore, not when you were cumming so hard.

“God fucking dammit- I’m gonna cum, baby.” His head rolled back as the clenching of your cunt spurred on his own orgasm, pumping you full of his cum. “Take every fucking drop.”

“You feel so fucking good,” you could feel him fill you up, giving you everything he had. “Thank you, thank you.”

After taking long enough to catch his breath, he pulled out of you, watching his cum leak from your used hole. You both fixed your clothes in silence (apart from the screams of scared people coming from hallways over).

“You seemed actually scared there for a moment.” Eddie took off the mask before pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. His lips swollen from all the biting he must’ve done while he was deep inside you. “I had to catch you off guard.”

“Trust me, you really did.”

He lifted your chin with his fingers and kissed you slowly, tugging on your bottom lip. “Who knew you’d be such a slut for public sex.”

#eddie munson smut #ghostface!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 days

Text

At the End of the World

(Cooper Howard x Reader)

A/N: I know absolutely squat about the Fallout universe but I like to think I’ve done my research good enough. This is my first kick at trying a Cooper Howard x reader so I am getting a feel for his character, please be kind :) Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: nothing outside of canon, little fluffy here and there

Summary: You run into a certain ghoul and the vault dweller he’s taken as hostage.

Side Note: I called the inhaler thing that Cooper uses to keep from going feral a breather cause that sounded better than inhaler in my head??

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her temple into the wall. She licked her lips in an effort to ease the pain she felt. Her lips were so dry they had cracked again and again.

“Better get some shut eye, Vaultie.”

She opened her eyes and looked across the room to the man holding her hostage. Calling him a man was a stretch. He hadn’t been a man for quite some time. Ghoulification had taken over his features long ago, gnarling his skin and turning him into something between man and monster.

Lucy said nothing to him and put her head back against the wall. Part of her wished she had never left the vault. How could people live on the surface? There were no rules, no regulations, not even morals. It was no way to live. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. She knew she needed to sleep, but she wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to get.

Lucy wasn’t able to concentrate on sleep for very long. After what seemed like just seconds, the Ghoul moved. He straightened his hat and pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip. His eyes remained on the window between himself and Lucy.

“What—?”

”Quiet.” He cut Lucy off.

The vault dweller closed her mouth and tried to listen to whatever the Ghoul heard.

“This has to be where they holed up for the night.” A hushed voice spoke.

”You sure it was a vault dweller, Dart?”

”Positive. You know how much we could get for one of those if we find the right buyer?”

The Ghoul stood to his feet. The wall they were behind was the only bit of building left from what had once been a house. There wasn’t even a roof or another wall, just the piece that Lucy and the Ghoul were hiding behind.

“Looky here, fellas.” A voice came from behind the Ghoul. The sound of a hammer clicking on a pistol made him roll his eyes. “Turn around slow, buddy.”

”You fellas are askin’ for trouble.” The Ghoul warned.

“Drop the gun. Don’t want to hurt you, just want the vaultie.”

The Ghoul let his pistol fall to the dirt floor as he turned to face the unwelcomed guests. The guests consisted of three men and a woman.

“Say, you think we could get anything for a ghoul too?” The woman whispered to the man closest to her.

“It’s far too late in the night for y’all to cause a ruckus.” The Ghoul spoke. “Why don’t you turn around and go back the way you came before one of yous gets hurt?”

One of the men chuckled and shook his head.

“Ain’t no way we’re leaving without her.” He gestured to Lucy with the end of his sawed off shotgun.

Without any warning, a gun was fired once, twice, then three times. The Ghoul watched as all three raiders fell to the ground, blood pouring out of head wounds. His eyes flickered around, seeking out where the shots had come from. He couldn’t see a damn thing in the pitch black night.

Then there was a whistle. It was low and steady, lasting a couple seconds before a second whistle followed.

Lucy’s eyes were wide with panic as she strained to see where the noise came from. She searched the darkness, eyes flighting back and forth. The Ghoul didn’t seem nearly as panicked. In fact, he almost looked confused.

The wind shifted and blew a breeze directly towards him, carrying a familiar scent with it.

“What-What is that?” Lucy croaked. Her throat was so dry that her voice was raspy.

The Ghoul picked up his gun that he had dropped earlier on the ground. He brushed the dirt from it as a grin appeared on his lips.

“Oh that? That ain’t nothin’ but a little ol’ mouse.”

”Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” A soft and sweet voice came from the darkness.

Lucy watched as you moved into her line of sight. You appeared to be human, dressed in black cargo style pants tucked into worn dark brown boots. You wore a dark gray sweatshirt that was tattered around the hem and a brown jacket overtop of the sweatshirt. A dark green scarf wrapped loosely around your neck.

“Haven’t seen you for a while.” The Ghoul spoke, his eyes focused on you.

”Could say the same for you.” Your gaze found Lucy. She offered you a quick and friendly smile, but the sight of your left eye caught the poor girl off guard. It was glowing in the darkness, letting off an electric blue light. “Making new friends, Coop?”

”Ah, you know me. Always looking for a new friend.” The Ghoul’s tone was friendly and light. Lucy had never heard him sound anything close to nice.

You smiled just a little, shaking your head gently as you took a few more steps towards the two.

“Miss? Uh, m-miss?” Lucy tried to move towards you but the sound of the Ghoul pulling the hammer on his pistol back stopped her.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, Vaultie. Sit your ass back down.” He gave a stiff nod to the ground where she had been sitting moments ago.

You kept your eyes on Lucy as she returned to her seat. Her eyes found yours again and you had to look away in order to avoid feeling bad for her. The Ghoul sat down and you took the spot right next to him, shrugging your backpack off of your shoulders and placing it between your legs.

“What happened with Dom Pedro?”

”Ain’t important.” He muttered with a shake of his head. You unzipped your backpack and pulled out a canteen.

“What’s your name, girl?”

”Lu-Lucy. My name is— My name is Lucy.” She stammered, pausing to lick her dry lips. “What’s your name?”

You leaned forward to pass her the canteen. She needed it far more than you did.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!” Lucy hastily opened the canteen and began to drink from it rather hastily.

“Friends call me Icy.” You answered her question. “Seems to be what I go by anymore.”

A raspy cough from the Ghoul made you snap your head in his direction. He tried to stifle the cough but it was no use. You had already heard.

“Where’s your breather?”

”Don’t got— Don’t got any vials.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aint’ no use to me.”

”Where are all your vials at?” You knew him too well. There was no way he’d let himself run out. You pulled your backpack closer to you and began to dig around inside hastily.

”Lost them in a tussle with the Vaultie.”

For a brief second, your eyes flickered up to Lucy. You decided then and there that if Cooper turned, you’d kill her yourself.

“You know, I could kick your ass for being so careless, old man.”

”Suppose you could.” He chuckled but it was cut short by another dry cough. “Wouldn’t- Wouldn’t do you any good, but it sure as hell would make for a good time.”

”Well given your current state, sweetheart, I think the odds would be in my favor.” You pulled out the sachet with vials and handed them to the ghoul. He took it from you, your fingers brushing momentarily but just enough to have your heart beating a little quicker.

“Thank ya, doll.” He murmured quietly. You offered him a smile, watching as he put the vial in his breather and took a hit.

“You two are…. Are you close?” Lucy asked. You turned your attention to her, tilting your head to the side just a bit. She tried to smile, to show that she was trying to be friendly.

“Lucy, was it?”

”Yes.” She nodded her head.

“Those kind of questions, Lucy, get you a bullet in your gut out here.”

The smile fell from her broken lips and her brows drew together in confusion.

“I-I wasn’t– I didn’t mean it– It was more just an observation.”

You turned your head to Cooper. He tucked the breather into his jacket and then his eyes found you.

“Heard you came into some trouble a few months back.”

“Just got into it with a group of raiders back outside of Targon.” You leaned back against the metal junk he was leaning against. “Just the same old bullshit. Wanted my eye.”

He stayed quiet. He wished he had found you sooner.

“You need to get some sleep.” You leaned over to push your shoulder against his.

Cooper tilted his head down, the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

“Ain’t sleepin’ tonight, doll.”

“When was the last time you slept? You look exhausted.” You reached over to put your hand on his. “You need to sleep, Cooper.”

He held your gaze for a few heartbeats, losing himself in your eyes. He had been worried about you since he crawled out of the grave Dom Pedro had kept him in. He was worried he’d never be able to find you, that perhaps you would be dead when he did get to you.

The ghoul pulled himself out of his own thoughts and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say, boss. Don’t let the Vaultie get too friendly.”

You smiled a little.

“Now you know that isn’t me, darling. I don’t let anyone get too friendly.”

“You let me get a little too friendly, if I remember correctly.”

“Shut your mouth, old man.” You smiled up at him. His grin you adored so much was covered up by the brim of his hat as he pulled it down.

You turned your attention to the girl that sat across from you.

“How long have you been upside?”

“Um, I-I don’t know for sure. A few weeks, I think.” She took another sip of water and then scooted a little closer to you so that she could hand the canteen back to you.

“Keep it.” You shook your head.

“Thank you.” She murmured quietly as she settled back into her spot. “Where, um, are you from?”

“Everywhere and nowhere all at once.” You let out a soft breath. “When you live for as long as I have, you don’t keep track of that sort of thing.”

“How…. How long have you been alive?”

“Long enough to know you don’t belong up here, Lucy.”

She held your gaze, almost too afraid to look away.

“I-I have to find my dad. He got taken by-by these raiders. They took him and I have to find him.”

You nodded gently. Lucy looked to the Ghoul, trying to figure out if he was asleep yet. After a couple moments of silence between you and Lucy, she could hear what sounded like gentle snoring.

“Icy, I need to find my dad. Please, you have to let me go.” She whispered.

“Quiet down, girl.” You stood to your feet, adjusting the holster that hung around your hips. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“Keep watch.”

***

Hours later, the blistering sun was just beginning its task of boiling the earth as it came up from the horizon.

You had been lost in thought, eyes gazing ahead at the sunrise. Your left eye, the cybernetic eye, kept track of the time, the rate the sun was rising, the temperature, and how fast the wind was going.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Cooper walking towards you.

“You slept good.” You commented, taking a sip of water. He had snored last night louder than you ever heard before.

“Easy to do when you’re around.” Cooper came to stand beside you, one hand finding the small of your back. “You know, I was– uh– I was worried bout you.”

“Same could be said for me to you.” Your eyes flickered across the baron land before you. There was nothing to see for miles and miles except dirt and remnants of destroyed buildings casting long shadows in the early morning light. “I’d heard whispers thrown around about what Dom Pedro was doing to you. When I get my hands on him–,”

“I don’t want you gettin’ anywhere near him, Icy Mae.”

You clenched your teeth together. Fiery anger swirled in your gut. Cooper’s hand on your back moved just slightly, rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you.

“No need in grinding those little teeth, doll.”

“I’ve spent three years trying to find you.”

“I know.”

“I want to kill him for what he’s done to you.”

Cooper let out a sigh.

“Lemme see those pretty eyes, doll.”

You turned your head away from him even more. You didn’t want him to see the tears that festered in your right eye.

“Look at me, Icy.”

You took in a breath through your nose before begrudgingly turning to face the ghoul. His fingertips found your jaw, tracing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. Blue eyes followed his fingertips as he brushed away the stray tear that slipped down your cheek.

“I was afraid you’d be gone by the time I got to you. So many people I talked to said that you had died.”

“You know ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from you, doll. Not even death.” He was trying to use his voice to make you feel better. Sometimes you felt that all he had to do was say your name in that raspy drawl of his and everything would be cured.

“Stop trying to charm me, old man.”

“Oh, I ain’t tryin’ to do anything, darling.”

You turned your head away from him, trying to focus on anything else. But he took your chin in his hand, gently turning your head back to him. you had no choice but to look up into his eyes.

“Missed you, woman.” He spoke in a hushed whisper. You couldn’t stay angry with him looking at you. It was rare to see those stern eyes so bright. A smile snuck its way onto your lips. You turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“Distracting me, old man, won’t make me change my mind.”

“He ain’t worth your trouble, doll.” His hand left your face and even though it was hot outside, you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. He placed his hand on your side, drawing your body a little closer to his.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw something move. You turned your head, disappointed to see Lucy moving towards you and Cooper.

The ghoul sighed as he removed his hand from your side and adjusted his hat, pulling it down just enough so the brim covered his eyes. You turned to face the vault dweller.

“Good morning, Lucy.”

”Good morning.” She smiled lightly. She looked from you to Cooper, unsure of which of you to look at.

“We should leave.” Your words weren’t really meant for her, but instead for the large figure that stood so close behind you.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cooper grumbled. ”Let’s get this show on the road.”

***

A couple hours later, you all walked in a poor excuse of a line. Lucy led the way with you followed just shortly behind her and the Ghoul behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Cooper kept his right hand on the handle of the gun holster on his hip. He gave you a light nod of his head, to which you smiled.

Lucy slowed down just a little to be able to walk alongside you.

“I just—,”

”Keep moving, Vaultie.” Cooper spoke up from behind you.

“Give her a second, darling.” You looked over your shoulder to flash him a toothy smile.

“Thank you.”

You looked at Lucy out of the corner of your right eye.

“For what?”

”For being so nice to me. Giving me water and-and talking to me.”

You said nothing to her.

”Can I ask you a question?”

”Depends on the question.”

”Is Icy your real name? The name you were born with?”

You almost laughed at her.

“Hardly. Icy is just a nickname I got through the years. Comes from my eye.” You tapped your left temple. You cybernetic eye was a bright blue almost icy color.

“What’s your real name?”

”Why does it matter what my real name is?” You glanced over to her.

”It-It doesn’t. I was just curious.”

”Curiosity will get you killed up here, girly. People don’t think it’s too kind and friendly to be asking all sorts of questions.”

“I-I’m– Okay.” Lucy pressed her lips into a tight line. It was so hard just to make conversation with people from the surface.

You slowed down just a bit so that Lucy would keep walking ahead of you.

“Told you not to be friendly with her.” Cooper bumped your shoulder with his. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not being friendly. Just trying to make conversation ‘cause I know you aren’t gonna be. What are you doing with her anyways?”

“Originally, I was gonna sell her for more vials. But now that you’re here, plans have changed a bit.” Cooper paused. “She’s a MacLean.”

You turned your head to Cooper, brows furrowing together. Without meaning to, you stopped walking.

“A what?”

“You heard me.”

“How?”

“She’s the daughter of Hank MacLean.”

Your fingers curled into fists by your sides. The very mention of Hank MacLean made your blood boil. The mention of anyone from Vault-Tec was enough to get you angry and ready to start fighting.

“What are we going to do with her?” You found yourself glaring at Lucy as she continued to walk, unaware that the both of you had stopped.

Cooper glanced over to you, adjusting the shotgun he held over his shoulder.

“Use her to get to her daddy.”

“They’ve ruined so many lives, Cooper. Vault-Tec has.”

“Oh, I know, darling.” He started walking again.

The anger in your stomach started to form into something else, into grief. There she was, Hank MacLean’s daughter, walking just ahead of you. Vault-Tec had ended so many lives, broken up so many families. Why did he get to have a family? Why did he get to see his daughter grow up?

Cooper stopped when he noticed you weren’t following him. He glanced back at you, taking note of your left hand that gripped the gun on your hip.

“Come on, Icy Mae.” He called for you. “Ain’t no use gettin’ worked up.”

Lucy stopped upon hearing the Ghoul say your name. She turned back to look at you. Your eyes met hers and you saw her furrow her brows together in confusion. Why did you look so upset, so angry?

“Don’t tell me how to be, Cooper.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you how to be, woman. Just telling you gettin’ mad ain’t gonna do nobody any good.”

“Is something wrong?” Lucy asked.

Your eyes left the girl to find Cooper.

“It isn’t fair, Coop.” You whispered, but he heard you just fine. He said nothing as he held your gaze. “Just isn’t fair.” You took your hand off of the gun and started walking again.

***

The day seemed to drag on for an eternity. No one had spoken very much. Everyone was tired and doing their best to make their energy last.

As the sun went away, camp was made on the outskirts of what used to be a town. The three of you took refuge inside of what appeared to be some kind of overturned bus. A battery powered lamp was on and sat in the middle of the bus, providing the otherwise pitch black night with a tiny source of light.

Lucy sat down against the roof of the bus, moving her hands around in an attempt to get comfortable with the rope around her wrist. You moved towards her, pulling a knife from its holster on your lower back.

”What are you doin’, woman?”

”Yeah, what are you doing?” Lucy shifted in her spot, eyes sticking to the knife you held. She tried to move away, pushing herself backwards. “Hey! Hey—!”

”Quiet down.” You muttered, kneeling down to cut away the rope.

“Oh.” Lucy watched the rope fall away then she rubbed her wrists. “Th-Thank you.”

“Icy, what the hell?”

”May as well let her get comfortable for the night.” You tucked the knife back into the sheath on your back. ”And she can’t go no where. We’re surrounded by nothing. She‘ll die from the elements before she gets far.”

Cooper sighed, putting his hands on his hips. You shrugged off your backpack and placed it down next to his bag. You sat down, adjusting your backpack before leaning against it.

“I’m gonna go have a look around.” He told you. “See if we’re alone out here.”

”Be careful.”

The ghoul gave you a nod, then turned towards Lucy.

“You try anything funny, Vaultie, and I won’t hesitate to skin you alive.”

“I-I won’t. I promise.”

You watched as Cooper slipped out of the overturned bus and disappeared into the night.

Once he was completely gone, you leaned forward to start taking off some of your layers. With the sun down, you didn’t have to worry about its harsh rays.

Lucy watched as you took off the jacket and placed it aside, then pulled the sweatshirt off of your head and added it to the jacket. You were left in a thin tank top that appeared to be a dark shade of brown. The gloves you wore came up to your elbows. You tugged each one off, setting them aside. With all the layers off, Lucy could now see the scars that covered your arms. They were darker than the rest of your skin and seemed to go in a gnarled and twisted pattern from the backs of your hands up to your shoulders.

You looked up, feeling eyes on you. The girl was watching you, her gaze curious but horrified all at once.

“I-I’m sorry.” She stuttered out. “What, um, what happened to you?”

”Got caught in a fire a few years back.” You rubbed your left arm, then started to rub the right one.

”Is that what happened to your eye?”

You stopped moving, her question catching you off guard.

You reached behind you into one of the side pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Then you settled back against the backpack, bringing your eyes up to meet hers.

Your cybernetic eye read her vitals and told you that she was nervous. A slightly elevated heart rate and increased breathing.

”No.” You put the cigarette between your lips then pulled a lighter from a pocket on your pants. “My eye was taken from me at the start of the war.”

”Oh.” She was quiet for a few heartbeats, looking away from you. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

”Vault-Tec.”

Your answer seemed to surprise her. She drew her eyebrows together.

”Vault-Tec?”

“It’s a long story, girly.” Your face lit up a little as you lit the cigarette.

”Well…. We’ve got time.”

”That we do.” You sunk down a little more to get comfortable.

Lucy could tell you didn’t really want to talk about your eye or Vault-Tec or your scars anymore. She looked down at her hands, rubbing her wrists just a little more before she let out a soft breath.

“How do you know him? That guy?”

”Known him for a while.” You turned your attention to the black sky. ”Ran into each other ages ago. We’d go our separate ways no and again but somehow…. Somehow we always run into each other.”

If the man in question hadn’t been so mean and callous, perhaps Lucy would have smiled.

“But how can you…. How can you be with someone like that? Someone who-who is okay with so much murder and so much cruelty?”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, debating on what to say next. Lucy thought perhaps you were ignoring her, but then you slowly sat up. You crossed your legs and leaned forward with your elbows on your knees.

“I used to have a daughter.” Your voice was hushed, eyes cast down to the flashlight providing a little bit of light. You took a deep inhale of the cigarette. In the same moment that you breathed out a cloud of smoke, you continued to talk. “Used to have a husband too. He was a good man. He’d move heaven and earth for me and my girl.”

You paused to see if Lucy would say anything. When she remained silent, you carried on.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss MacLean. You’ve only ever known comfort your whole life. You don’t know what people have had to endure up here…. what good people have had to do…. in order to survive.”

Lucy looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer.

“There are no rules up here, no guidelines, no sense of ethics. If you want to survive, you have to do things you wouldn’t normally do. Good men do bad things to make sure they survive.”

Lucy directed her eyes downward. You flicked the cigarette ashes down onto the ground beside you.

“I’m-I’m sorry about your family.”

Your gaze was drawn to the girl once more.

“About everything you’ve been through.”

A whistle made both of you turn your heads. Lucy almost started to panic, but you shook your head gently.

”It’s just Cooper.” You took another puff from the cigarette. A few moments of silence passed before the Ghoul was making his way back into the overturned bus. “Find anything?” You sat up and offered him the cigarette.

“Nah, there’s nothin’ here but us and dirt.” He sat down next to you, settling with sitting up while you stayed hunkered down with your head on the backpack.

Lucy moved around a bit to get herself comfortable, choosing to lay on her side with her arm under her head as she faced the light.

”It’s your turn to get some sleep, woman.”

You turned your head to look up at Cooper.

“Don’t know if I’m gonna be able to sleep much, darling.” You took the cigarette back from him and puffed on it a little bit.

“You should try.”

You hummed but said nothing more.

After a few minutes, Lucy fell asleep, giving you and the ghoul next to you the smallest bits of privacy.

Neither of you said anything for a long time. You passed the cigarette back and forth until it was finished up by Cooper.

You scooted closer to him, trying to get as deep into his side as you could. He lifted his arm until you were comfortable, then he put his arm down around you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

”I haven’t been able to stop thinking about killing her all day, Cooper.” You murmured.

“Oh, yeah?”

”I want to take her head to her father.”

He looked down at you, unsure if what he had heard was what you said.

”He shouldn’t get to have a family. No one at Vault-Tec should.”

”You’re gonna get yourself all worked up, doll. Best not go down that rabbit hole tonight.”

You took a deep breath, reaching your hand up to hold on to his fingers.

”I don’t want to feel that way, Coop. I don’t want to hurt her.”

”Hush now.” Cooper leaned down to kiss your head. “Get some sleep, Icy Mae.”

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