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macfrog · 8 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. iii

now taking name suggestions for my joel's duck doodle. must rhyme with a curse word. most creative wins.

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: as your pregnancy progresses, you and joel are getting closer. dangerously closer.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy symptoms & descriptions of stuff like extreme nausea and gagging (reader throws up off-page, no graphic description past sore throat/esophagus afterward), body changing, nerves around birth/becoming mom, another sonogram (gender reveal...?), baby kicks felt, labor pains shhh, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), joel is dating someone who isn't reader, our girl hates nye (she's valid), tommy uses colors to represent gender (he is Wrong), joel is for sure emotionally cheating at this point and reader knows it, joel kisses someone who is not his partner again, f masturbation, memories of the hot dirty sex they had whew, a SPRINKLING of breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, another parent dies (i love parents i promise ????), jealous!reader, protective!joel, alcohol consumption, cursing, a LOT of angst, lots of fluff, lil bit of smut, and duckie has the best comedic timing of any character in this entire series. :) 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: 11.4k (sorry. lots to cover lots to do.)

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

December.

The days are funneled by a quick pinch of dark, the breeze heavy in its sail. Houses lined with twinkling lights and windows pierced by pointed trees. Crooning from every radio station, teary-eyed movies on TV, and spiced apple everything.

You hate every fucking minute of it.

“Wait a second,” Tommy sits forward, leaning in, “you never do nothin’ for New Years?”

You shrug, lifting your eyebrows. “Nope. Just don’t like it much. That a crime?”

He considers it as he hands his empty tumbler up to Joel, his head lolling some. He’s on his…fourth drink of the night, right? Though, if you take into account his earlier argument – I’m eatin’ as I go. It don’t count. – it’s probably more like two. But it’s whiskey, so –

Never mind.

“Yeah,” Tommy finally decides, “kinda. The hell’s wrong with you, girl?”

“Tommy.”

Joel’s voice is a warning, edged by the sharp clink of three glasses pinched in his fingers.

His brother laughs amiably in response, though, nodding to your mock-offended expression. “At least you’re spendin’ it right this year. Last one before lil’ Dickie comes along, huh?”

Maria slaps his shoulder, rolling her eyes. “It’s Duckie,” she hisses, glancing over to you.

“Shoot,” he says, chuckling. “I knew that. My mistake.” And then, hand out towards you in an apology which makes your shoulders jerk with laughter, “I did know that, I swear.”

Tommy and Maria flew in a few days ago; the younger Miller adamant that he’d spend one last New Years with his big brother before he became a father. The night they arrived, they showed up on your doorstep – a hamper filled with diapers and muslins and baby socks hanging from Maria’s arm. They’ve asked to hang out with you every day since.

They’re good fun. Tommy likes you, at least, enough to tease you as much as you figure a brother might. He’s definitely the louder of the two – sometimes you swear you notice Joel cringing at him, something caught between a laugh and a frown on his face. And Maria’s sweet; she’s asked probably six times every hour since she first saw you if you’re feeling okay, if you’re tired, if you’re hungry.

Joel text you yesterday morning. Tommy and Maria wondering if you feel like coming over for NYE. No pressure, he added, I lie pretty good.

A smile snuck its way across your lips before you had the chance to tame it. Sure, you typed, I’ll bring the newspaper.

What Joel’s told them, about the wedding and the baby and everything since, you’ve no idea. You guys almost talked about it when he told you they were flying down after Christmas, but before you got the chance to ask him, Vanessa pulled up out front.

Not exactly a conversation you felt like having with the dude’s girlfriend hooked around his right arm.

She smiles at you, now, as you shuffle to the edge of the armchair you’re curled up in. Joel’s armchair – the plaid blanket cradling you, the leather soft and crinkled beneath. Your eyes quickly drop from hers when his hand reaches for your mug, your fingers crossing as you pass it up. “Let me come help,” you say, pushing from the chair.

He holds up a palm, shaking his head once. “Stay. I got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, settling back. Vanessa resumes smiling. You wish she’d fucking quit it. You wish you’d fucking quit focusing on her.

Joel knocks the mug gently against your shoulder with a small, almost sympathetic smile, and heads for the kitchen – leaving you sat between Tommy and Maria on one couch, and Vanessa on the other. You tuck your heels under your thighs, picking at a hangnail as you wait for the conversation to thaw.

Maria makes some comment about Austin in the winter: how different it is to Jackson, and the three of you nod and hum in agreement before the chatter fizzles to nothing again. You glance over to the clock, watching the hands chase one another to twelve.

This isn’t what you imagined a get-together with Joel’s family would feel like. Tight, tense. So tense that you can feel the weight on your chest, closing your lungs. Talking about the weather and the holiday traffic, talking about nothing to avoid talking about everything.

Tommy’s chin lifts, after a second too long of silence. “Hey, Joel!” he barks. “You ain’t shown me this nursery yet!”

Joel leans around the doorframe, half-distracted. “Barely even started it, little brother. Crib only got delivered yesterday.”

“Sheesh,” Maria’s eyes widen, “you sure are prepared.”

Vanessa laughs when Joel rolls his eyes and vanishes again. “You got no idea,” she says, “I have never seen him so…pedantic, right?” She looks to you, still smiling. So sweet, you worry your lips are pursing at the sight of it. Your neck tensing. Your eyes watering.

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding shyly and swallowing back the saccharine. “I think he’s more nervous than he’s letting on.”

Joel’s voice calls from the kitchen again: your name. When you answer, he says, “Why don’t you take Tommy up, show ‘im what we got so far?” and then, leaning back around the door, “She picked the color ‘n whatnot.”

“Ah,” Tommy says, palms pushing down on his knees, “so you’re the brains, then?”

You mirror him, accepting Joel’s request. As though you had any choice in the first place. Standing beside the younger Miller, you mutter, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

He holds a hand out to usher you ahead, following you upstairs. Past the tousle-haired boy in grayscale, past the German shepherd, past the Christmas Day portrait. Wandering like you know the house inside out, like you might’ve picked the exact coordinates of each nail the picture frames hang on yourself.

Like the photographs pinned to the walls aren’t still as alien to you as they’d been that day you first set foot in here, the dress Joel would come to tear from your body slung over your arm.

You twist the gold handle and unveil a homely little room, painted by you and Joel just last week. The soft blue drying into his knuckles, random splatters on your palms and your jeans. The giggles drawn from your chest; the thief either the chemicals from the paint, or the man rolling it over the walls – and you’ve a pretty good idea of which.

Tommy sniffs roughly, nodding. Taps the toe of his boot against one of the two bulky boxes leant against the wall, a crib printed on one and a rocking chair on the other. His tipsy head bob bob bobbing. “Alright. ‘s nice, ain’t it?”

You settle against the window, the glass cold at your back. “Real nice, yeah. Be even better once it’s done.”

“What’s yours look like?”

“Mine?”

“Nursery at your place. Your one pink, ‘case it’s a girl?”

You snort. “Mine is a little greener. More…I guess it’s duck egg. Had some leftover paint.”

He clicks his fingers and points to you. “See what you did there. Duck egg. Duckie.”

“Hm. Wish I were that poetic. I just like the color.”

Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets, wanders around the bare room. The faint lingering of whiskey putting up its best fight against the clean bite of fresh paint, the sweet scent shaking from him when he nods some more at the blank walls and naked windows. He clicks his teeth and asks, “How you holdin’ up, anyways?”

“How am I holding up?”

“Yep. With, uh…” he nods to the door, eyes wide, “…Vanessa,” he whispers. Louder than he must think – probably echoed, if anything, by the palm he curves around his mouth.

You cross your arms protectively, shoulders bunching. “She’s fine,” you say, voice deliberately low. You both ignore the crack in it when you add, “I like her. She’s – she’s taken this all like a champ.”

Tommy leans on the window ledge, a rugged hand you reckon you’d know was a Miller’s just by looking at it. Same rough-cut quality as Joel’s, like they’re torn from the same sheet of sandpaper. He props the other on his hip. “But, boy – it’s gotta be complicated, right?”

“I guess. But she’s real sweet about it. And Joel’s been great, too.” You sniff, the memory of your kiss flashing behind your eyes. The steady drum of Duck’s heartbeat, the gleam in Joel’s eye when he looked down at you. The guilt seeping from your skin like beads of sweat, prickling along your spine and fizzling against the cold windowpane.

Tommy blinks at you, liquor-glazed eyes scanning. His shoulders jerk, a loud huh propelling from his throat. When your head cocks in confusion, startled from your daydream, he spills. “He ‘n I had a mighty long talk when he told me.”

You feel yourself leaning in, magnetized to him – body hunched as though you’re gossiping in the corner of a house party. Inhaling secrets with the tinge of alcohol on Tommy’s breath. “Oh, yeah?”

Tommy hums. “Just wanted to make sure he’d thought it all through. Not you – I always knew he’d take care a’ you and Duck. But…involving Vanessa,” he lowers his voice again, glancing over to the warm light spilling in from the hallway, “I just wanted him to be sure.”

Your blood begins to warm, heat flooding through your body as you step closer, murmuring, “What’d he say?”

He flicks his head, seeming to toss his initial response to the wind. “You know Joel. He is his own man.”

Your face screws, head jerking back. “What’s that mean? He is his own man?”

A voice from the doorway interrupts. A shadow swimming in the golden light. “Who is?”

Tommy steps away from you, loosening his arms as his big brother drifts into the shadowy room. Dusting the conversation under the rug. The smell of whiskey backs off. “Speak of the devil. Nice paint job, Joel. Missed a couple spots, but – I’ll let you off.”

“Uhuh.” Joel’s eyes thin, his body slanted against the wall. Arms crossed, bottle of beer hanging from his fingers.

Tommy swaggers forward when Joel holds the bottle out, taking it with a wary glance at the tall figure. A dog meandering back to his owner, tail between his legs and ears flat. It takes his gritty voice to jolt you back to the room, splintering your gaze from Joel’s toned arms and huge chest. “Looks real good, you two. ‘s one lucky kid.”

Joel’s jaw lifts, his eyes landing on you. Dogs are terrible liars. “He talkin’ your ear off?”

You smile; recognizing the softer Joel you’ve grown used to over the last three months replacing the stern, cold version you once knew so well. “Only a little.”

“Tommy,” he says then, “Maria needs you for somethin’.”

The denim-donned Miller nods knowingly and heads out of the room, thud of his boots receding downstairs.

“Maria okay?” you ask, making space for Joel as he settles beside you.

He shrugs. “Only said that to get him outta your hair.”

You frown. “You sent me up here with him in the first place.”

“So I could come up ‘n check on you. Know this must be a lot – the two of them, tonight.”

“I’m fine. Promise. I’m a big girl.”

You both sigh, turning to look out at the dark street. Your arms cross, sitting somewhere above the tiny slope of your bump – a new development you’re still getting used to. Your stomach feels tighter, a little more solid than usual when you touch it. A little more…real. There’s someone in there, right? Like, actually there. They’re changing the way you look, the way you feel.

“This is it, right?” you say, staring at the white lanterns illuminating Alice Brown’s rose bushes. “This is the year.”

“The year,” Joel agrees.

“Mhm. Become a mom. Become a dad.”

He purses his lips. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve had bigger years, kid.”

“Let’s hear it, old man. Let’s hear about your biggest year. God knows you’ve had plenty to choose from.”

He sucks a deep breath in, eyes tracing the silhouette of the houses across the street as he thinks. “Senior year, nineteen ninety-three. Asked Stacy Moore as my date to the prom ‘n she said yes. I was so nervous that I forgot my bow tie. Was a pretty good year.”

You hum, agreeing, and then, “I see your ninety-three, and I raise you: two thousand and one. There was this bike I wanted for-fucking-ever; it had, like, little beads on the spokes – would make this ratatatat sound whenever it moved. Tassels hanging from the handlebars, all iridescent. I begged my mom the entire year for it, and on Christmas morning I woke up, and…” You lift your hands, air puffing from between your lips. “Santa Claus delivered that year, dude.”

“Well,” Joel clicks his teeth, shell hardening only a little, “thanks for making me feel old as hell.”

“You’re welcome.” You beam back at him, breaking into a laugh when he does.

The two of you stand a little distance apart, denying yourselves the innocent brushing of shoulder against shoulder, the nudging of elbows and swaying of hips. Admiring the empty sky and emptier street, bathing between the cold moonlight of outside and the warm lamplight in.

And from somewhere deep in your belly, somewhere tucked behind your ribs, beneath your slow-growing womb: an urge to ask about her. To bring her up. To tend to the curiosity that Tommy poked a clumsy, drunken finger straight into, tearing it apart at the seams.

Like pressing on a new bruise, satiating the hungry need to know where you were hurt, how you were hurt, when you were hurt. A bent fingertip, pushing heavily into a sensitive splatter of dark purple; the burst blood vessels hissing in response, whispering, You don’t know, and you don’t want to know.

But you defy them. You do want to know. Want to satisfy the disturbed thrill you felt, leaning into Joel’s brother. Hands turning over one another, wet bottom lip trembling as he rounded the corner on some sort of…what was it, a secret? Some sort of truth, a long-buried revelation about the other woman. She’s a witch, have you spotted her crooked nose? She’s plotting something, I swear. She’s up to no good.

Your eyes lift again, focusing back on the dull color of the outside world. The bland canvas of reality. She’s not a witch, nor some genius mastermind. She’s a boring, relatively normal woman. Kind, thoughtful. Naïve and a little too eager to please; too willing to forgive a situation which warrants no such kindness or empathy.

She’s just…fine. Lukewarm. And you’ve no idea why that pisses you off so much.

Which, incidentally, makes the bruise sting all the more.

“Maria, Maria,” Tommy’s voice claws its way upstairs, “turn it on, turn it – Joel? Joel! It’s midnight, Joel, you two better come on down, now! Have we missed it –? Have we –?”

The sound of cheering slowly bubbles to life behind his drawl as the TV volume picks up, the tittering of Maria and Vanessa chiming in.

“…five, four, three, two, one…Happy New Year!”

Joel’s looking over his shoulder, waiting for footsteps or voices or a girlfriend who never shows. And he ignores his brother, for he is his own man, and turns to you instead. Bracing himself on the ledge, he blinks down with a plain grin on his lips. “Happy New Year, Mom,” he whispers.

You return his smile, taking his hand when he reaches out to you. “Happy New Year, Dad,” you reply, squeezing his palm.

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing your cheek briskly as you hook your arms over his shoulders. His beard scratches your cheek, grazes the curve of your shoulder, and you don’t mind. Your small, swollen belly presses against his; the tiny curve safe in the midst of your embrace.

Outside, the sky crackles to life with the distant spatter of fireworks, color shattering across the black canvas – red, blue, green and gold, dissolving as quickly as they explode into the now-January night. A burst of purple light washes between the two of you, and you turn your head on Joel’s shoulder to watch as the sparks rain over your neighbors’ roofs.

“I should get goin’,” you whisper, feeling his heartbeat a little too strongly against your own. Becoming suddenly aware of the weight of your frames locked together.

“Glad you came,” he says as he leans away. “I know this ain’t…I know we’re all tryin’, but you’re tryin’ the most, and I appreciate it. I hope you know that.”

“I know it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Now, go. Go kiss your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, making for the door. “You want me to walk you home?”

Your eyes close serenely, the image of him doused in flickers of gold burning behind your eyelids. “I’ll survive the walk across the hedgerow, Miller.”

Joel nods once and leaves, plodding downstairs to be greeted by his open-armed girlfriend, a peck between them, arms crossed behind his neck. The lyrics of Auld Lang Syne slurred against his lips.

And you think – You know what? If it’ll rip you apart from her, if it’ll keep her bright red lips and her shining curtain of hair away from you, if it’ll stop her sucking in your air and your smell and your attention for thirty fucking seconds –

Then, yeah. Walk me home. Stay for a drink. Sleep in the goddamn guestroom.

Walk me home.

You slip out of the front door when the two couples are in the kitchen, missing Joel’s calling your name – or perhaps just ignoring it altogether.

“Spread the love at St. David’s this Valentine’s Day…”

Joel slows alongside a wall of cerise hearts, each one fluttering like wings whenever the hospital doors slide open and the breeze sneaks inside. Slips scrawled with names and messages: Love you M! and J + A, crude drawings of stick figures holding hands. Your lips curl into a smirk, watching him flick through each one as you palm your round stomach.

You just saw Duck for the second time. The last time, Freya was kind enough to mention, before they’re tearing you in two. Sorry, she mouthed when your expression dropped, and went back to twisting the probe over your stomach. Silently.

You’re getting better at it, you think. Playing Mom. Like some little game of make-believe, which is only real for as long as you’re looking it square in the eye – attending doctor’s appointments, updating the neighbors on your newest list of symptoms en route to your mailbox.

A little surer on your feet, now that you’ve found a balance to it: taking it as seriously as it warrants, a dry little pill stuck on the cliff of your throat, and making it easier to swallow with humor like water, a huge gulp anytime the fear claws its way up your spine.

And no more panic, since at least before Christmas. Only a little flustered this afternoon when Freya asked if you wanted to know the sex.

It felt too big a thing to hear, too real. You’re only just getting used to the backache and the bleeding gums. (And why didn’t you know that your gums would bleed? Isn’t that something they should fucking warn you about? Congrats, you’re pregnant: prepare for blood seeping from your jaw.)

No. No, thanks. Your head shot around to Joel. No, right?

He shrugged. Makes no difference to me.

Are you sure?

I’m sure, kid. Promise.

‘cause we can find out. I mean – if you want to.

He rocked forward on the balls of his feet, tapping you amiably on the shoulder. I don’t. You’re good.

You don’t?

No, I – He sighed, a hand dragging through his hair. If you want to, I want to. If you don’t, I don’t. Alright?

Freya bit back a laugh, the closed fist over her lips doing little to hide it. You guys should write a book on co-parenting.

But then she left the room again, closed the door on that same old little bubble – the three of you perched on the bed, you and Joel blinking up at the grains of your child onscreen – and you cried. Again. More.

Everything clearer, everything even more human than before: the globe of their skull, the tiny slope of their nose. All glowing in the dark waves of your womb, twinkling like the most beautiful constellation you could ever come across. Their ankles were crossed, feet forming a tiny heart shape in the top corner of the sonogram. Your hand lifted to point it out to Joel, and before the words found voice, you choked and broke down again.

He held you, lips to your hair, body solid as a rock as you melted into him in waves of salty tears. Smiled that honey-glazed smile and said he was so proud of you, said, look what your body’s doin’, darlin’, look what you’re growin’ – which only made you weep more.

And you pretended not to wait for it – for the moment when you might tilt your head up and your lips might line with his, and he might close the achy space between you again, might shush your cries by stealing the air from your lungs and the beat from your heart.

But he didn’t.

Which is fine.

Right?

“Somethin’ on your mind, kid?” he asks now, eyes still glued to the sea of hearts.

Your stare snaps from him instantly, unaware it was even held there. You tug on the hem of your sweater and pull the sleeves over your hands, mumbling, “Fine, I’m – I’m just…Come on, man. I’m hungry. I didn’t eat lunch today.”

“’n whose fault is that?”

You glower at him. “How considerate,” you seethe, “Vanessa’s a fucking lucky woman, you know that?”

He ignores you, a dumb smile on his face. The usual. “Let’s leave one for ‘em.”

A hot temper begins to boil below the surface of your skin, squeezing between your teeth in a fist-swinging breath. Also the usual these days, apparently. “For who?”

“Duckie. Somethin’ to mark the second scan. Last time we see them, before –”

Your hand flies up, eyes closing with a wince. Shut the fuck up. “Enough. I know.”

Joel hms, still smiling to himself. His beard has grown out a little: thicker, darker, gray sewn through like little whip stitches lining his jaw. He fishes a heart shape from the tub along with a pen, which he twirls annoyingly around his fingers as he thinks.

You sink back against the clinical white wall, an offensively bright color, holding your cheeks up in something of a smile when a nurse wanders past, nodding to both of you. Your face drops back to a scowl as soon as she’s over Joel’s shoulder, and your eyes meet his again – his brows raised, expectant.

“What?” you ask, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

He holds the slip up. “What we gonna write?”

And whatever charm the moment may have held, withers instantly. You throw your arms up petulantly. “You wanted to do it! Pick something. See you soon, or something, I don’t fucking know.”

“I don’t fucking know,” Joel muses, creases by his eyes when he smirks. “Poignant.”

“That’s what you should write,” you step closer, shoving your shoulder into his as you study the trembling hearts on the board, “if you can spell poignant, write that.”

“Hilarious,” he mutters, bending to scribble onto the shape, shielding his work from your view when you hang around his shoulder to pry. Cupping over the message until he’s straightening up, tossing the pen back to the desk, stealing a pin from the tub.

“Let me read,” you protest, tugging on his flannel sleeve.

“I will,” he says, shaking you off. “Patience, darlin’.”

Joel turns to the wall and pins the heart higher than the rest, in a spot clear of its own on the corkboard – thick arms stretching higher higher higher and pulling your gaze with them. As he steps back, he takes you gently by the waist and positions you in front of his body, your shoulders brushing against his chest. Your ribs hold your heart back from hammering into his.

You push up onto your tiptoes and squint at the note, which quivers when the hospital doors pull open again. “Mom and…Mom and Dad f…You fucking…”

Joel dodges your batting arm, snickering with you as he turns to make for the exit. “You don’t like it?” he tosses over his shoulder.

The heart stares down at you, black ink carved into the paper, watching as you turn and hurry after him, giggling. “Mom and Dad fuckin love you? So much for my potty mouth. And the –” another wheezing laugh you’d otherwise be ashamed to let him hear, “– the drawing? It looks – it looks more like a giraffe than a duck. Or, like, you know those long-necked dinosaurs?”

Joel’s head tips back, his own laughter caught up by the breeze when you wander outside, slipping your wrist around the crook of his elbow. Something infectious about it, something which stirs your own laughter until you’re walking arm in arm to the truck with a man who, six months ago, you’d barely look at twice over the fence.

The blind rage bubbling from your empty stomach seems to dissipate, dwindled to nothing in the face of that same man – his swollen cheeks and crows-feet eyes. And you say, “You’re disgustingly sentimental, you know that? Like, sickening.”

And Joel smirks, the way he always fucking does, and says, “You love it. Can’t lie to me.”

“I love it,” you concede, nudging into him as he opens the door for you.

The drive home is quiet, but not uncomfortable. There’s another thing you’re getting good at: being around Joel without need for snide remarks, without feeling your tongue curl under the weight of some snappy quip, loaded and aimed. Being around him and talking about Duck, asking how Tommy and Maria are. Forcing your teeth and tongue to carve out words which ask how Vanessa is, what she’s up to, when he’s seeing her next.

None of this is ideal, that’s for sure. Joel’s girlfriend aside, you’ve spent the last five months cohabiting your body with a stranger who lives most peacefully in the eye of a raging tornado of hormones – flitting between fits of giggles and pulsating joy in your veins, to waves of tears and an anger so hot beneath your skin that you wonder if your emotions might dry up completely by the time this is all through.

It's tough. It’s scary. And some nights you lie in bed, alone, wet eyes fixed on nothing, waiting for someone to burst into the room and announce that it’s all a prank. Just a silly joke. You and Joel can go back to tossing newspapers and casting glowers.

But for now, sat in the passenger seat of his truck – the seatbelt warped around the curve of your belly, the Eagles lilting softly from the radio – it feels like you’re making a home out of that tornado, too. Feeling the swirling walls of wind toss your hair like the breeze through the truck window; the chilled caress of the evening around your outstretched arm, soaring down the highway.

Yeah, you think. I can make something outta this.

“You know what I’m craving?”

Joel’s watching the light, waiting for green. “What’s that?”

“A fucking bagel. Cream cheese, pastrami,” you groan.

He snorts, cringing when he adds, “Pickles?”

A moan tears from the base of your throat, head lolling against your seat. “I could orgasm just thinking about it.”

The light turns, and Joel swings right. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he mutters, turning the wheel with one palm. “I got bagels back at the house, if you want one.”

You stare at him, jaw loose, saliva pooling behind your bottom lip. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Let me make you one, ‘fore you go home. Big day, ‘n all.”

And you hate it – hate the way your cheeks fill with a genuine happiness, something swollen and achy, impossible to ignore when it lifts your eyes and hurts your teeth. Appreciation, or admiration, perhaps, that you figure you’ll only ever have for him. You don’t know what the fuck to call it.

So you sum it up into three words. “That’d be nice,” you whisper, and Joel places his hand over your knee, shaking it lightly as he drives on.

It stays there, until he’s pulling into his driveway.

He pushes the front door open and steps back, an arm extended to let you by first. An after you, ma’am, between his lips. And you turn to make some mocking joke, the beginnings of some comment about how gentlemanly he is, when you’re socked square on the nose by a heavy-fisted, bitter scent.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, stumbling backwards across the threshold and onto the porch again. Your throat constricting around nothing, your tongue twisting, your stomach lurching.

Joel catches you just in time to stop you from falling on your ass. “The hell’s the m–? Oh.”

“Hi!” Vanessa calls from the kitchen, leaning around the doorframe to wave you both in. “Almost ready! Take a seat.”

“V–? Hey, sweetheart?” Joel calls back, one hand around your wrist and the other between your shoulders. “What – what’s cookin’?”

She pauses, glancing back at the stove. Pulls the dish towel between her hands taut. “I…I made pasta.”

“Yeah, what kind, sweet?”

“…Bolognese.”

He can’t cover his own sigh quick enough. Thick with something which feels like anger. “Shit,” he turns back to you, “I am so sorry.”

You pull in a deep, unsteady breath, your lungs struggling to separate night air from tomato juice. A weight rolling at the bottom of your stomach, your entire body beginning to tremble with it. “I feel like I’m gonna – Joel, I’m gonna –”

“Breathe,” he whispers, voice urgent, palm slipping to cup your jaw. “Just breathe for me.”

But your throat’s tightening, swallowing hard around gags which come stronger and quicker the more you try to fight them down. “I can still fucking smell it –”

Her shadow blocks the stretch of light from the house. A nervous little thing, a timid creature’s shadow stretched wide across the porch floor. “Is…everything okay?”

“It’s – it’s fine,” Joel sighs again, torn between comforting you and letting Vanessa down gently, “it’s just – tomato is one of her…her aversions.” He’s unable to pull his eyes from you, privately asking, “Are you okay?” when Vanessa turns back to the kitchen.

“I didn’t – I didn’t know,” she mumbles, thumbnail between her teeth. “I am so sorry.”

Suddenly, your will not to throw up is overpowered by your will to tell her, “It’s fine,” sucking in a deep, sickly breath before adding, “I’m just gonna – I should go.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Joel says, his teeth guarding the words from his girlfriend.

“I’m gonna clean up in here,” Vanessa points over her shoulder, and you think she must’ve heard him, “get outta your hair. I’m so sorry, again. I would’ve never…”

Joel lets go of you as you stagger backwards, the cold air tearing down your throat to meet the burning acid tickling up your esophagus. “Please don’t apologize,” you lift a weak hand, “how could you have known? I’ll –” another sharp gasp, “– I’ll see you guys around.”

He must say your name, must try once more to pull you back to his side, but the blood’s rushing through your ears, and your heart’s pounding at the back of your tongue, and your stomach’s notching its way up your spine. You make it to your kitchen sink just in time.

He keeps you waiting all of one hour before he’s calling you. Your arm reaches over to your nightstand, fumbling in the dark for your heavy phone, the screen cold against your cheek.

“Mhm?”

“Are you okay?”

Your lungs pull a deep, slow breath. The acid painted across your throat tickles as the air passes by it, an uncomfortable, scratchy feeling.“Mhm.”

“That a lie?”

“Only a little. Is Vanessa okay?”

He takes a second to answer. Lets go of whatever he was going to say with a sigh, replacing it with, “She just left.”

“Is she mad at us?”

Another second. “Just me. Not you.”

You massage the slope below your breasts, the ache in your esophagus throbbing when you move. “Why just you?”

Ruffling, like he’s settling back into his couch. Sinking into the cushion, his body as heavy as yours feels on your mattress. “I should’ve told her you didn’t like tomatoes. ‘cause now I’m a goddamn mind reader. I mean, why the hell wouldn’t my girlfriend be in my house cookin’ a damn pasta dish while I’m out, y’know? Jesus Christ.”

“Joel,” you turn slowly onto your back, bravely waiting for the waves of nausea still lapping around your stomach to turn with you, “it was a nice thing, what she did. She didn’t mean to…She probably thought she was helping.”

“Naw, I know,” he replies, the sharp bite of his words softening again, shrinking under yours. “I don’t care about her and her helping, though, darlin’, I care about y –” He barely catches it in time. “I care about you carrying my child, and I care about making sure you don’t spend your nights fuckin’…throwing up tomato sauce.”

You gulp, neck convulsing. The backwash of bile swallowed back. Your chest floods with a heat of quick panic. “Can we…maybe…not use the word? I just –”

“Sorry, baby. Sorry. This is just – it’s a lot easier if she would just…”

Your eyes close over, a salty sting sweeping behind them. If she would just lay off. Back off. Fuck off. “…but she won’t, Joel. She loves you. ‘n you…”

The words drift off, taken by the tide, swept off into silence. And neither of you bother with trying to retrieve them – you just watch, stood safe on the shoreline, as they fold under the waves of something too big for either of you to acknowledge. Too dark, too dangerous.

So, you say, “I get it,” instead; say, “I get why you’re mad. Just – let’s forget about it, okay? Sorry for…ruining dinner.”

Joel scoffs, that old, pissed-off Joel scoff. You can see his deadened expression on the back of your eyelids. You may as well have just thrown his newspaper to the end of the earth. “You know damn well that you didn’t ruin anything. How you feelin’?”

“Tired. Throat kinda hurts.”

“Still feel like that pastrami bagel?”

“Not really. Sorry. Appetite’s gone.”

“How about a water?”

“I got some here. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Joel sniffs, “how about: you take the hint and let me come over there to see you?”

You giggle, hand over your eyes to mask your expression from the dark. “I hate you. Yeah, come over. Door’s unlocked.”

Date night – six month anniversary or whatever. Call me if you need anything.

And I mean anything. OK?

Your thumbs hover over the two gray messages, an awkward jig as your brain scrambles to offer words back. Where are you guys going? Too interested. Too weird. OK, what if I’m bored? Delete delete delete. Trying too hard. Sure, have a good n–

The ellipsis pops up and you freeze. A stupidly polite swish delivers Joel’s third text.

Boredom counts as anything, by the way.

And the fucker steals another smile from you. You notice it when you look up, clocking yourself in the mirror. Accompanied by a warmth which drips down your spine, swirls around your tummy; a fluttering you’re not sure is Duckie or something else.

Have a good night, Dad, you type back, tossing the phone to the end of your bed when you hit send. Swiping for a pillow, holding it firm to your face. Pressing so deep into the plush that even the linen won’t be able to see your grin.

Joel told you about this six-month anniversary last week. He wasn’t too thrilled about it then, either. Dinner to celebrate six months? A year, fair enough. But six months?

You swallowed your pride, swallowed the same throttling ecstasy which seeped through your pores on New Year’s Eve, on that February evening she cooked– never mind; a desperate desire to tear apart the very notion of Vanessa and her cutesy little date nights and candlelit dinners. I think it’s a fun idea, you said. Y’all should do it.

And Joel listened. Because he always fucking listens to you, these days. Listens when you tell him that you like the watermelon Sour Patch Kids best, and picks them up anytime he’s at the store. Listens to you when you tell him he should move the crib away from the window, in case the streetlights shine on Duck while they sleep.

Listens when you ramble about how sore your feet are, how heavy your belly feels, how there’s a clammy heat lingering under your skin at all times, bubbling and bubbling and never rising to anything more than steam collecting on the underside of your flesh.

Listens when you tell him to go spend time with his girlfriend. And neither of you pay attention to the jealous shadow behind your words, the hesitant quiver behind his.

He replies almost instantly, the ping like a gunshot at the beginning of a race. Pillow slammed into the mattress, body lunging forward.

You too, Mom. Don’t have too much fun without me.

You lock the phone and slide it back under your covers, smiling dumbly.

There’s still a small part of you waiting for the big reveal: none of this is really happening. A dream, maybe, something you’ll wake from with a tiny throbbing headache, a dry mouth and a new reason to avoid your neighbor at all costs.

But it seems that, each time that thought crosses your mind, you’re quicker and quicker to quash it. Realizing each time that what lies ahead – Joel, your baby, this future version of yourself that you’re yet to meet, still just a little out of reach – fills you with more excitement and wonder, than it does fear.

Mom.

It’s not something you ever imagined for yourself. Not someone you ever thought you’d be. And yet, each time you say it out loud, each time you look in the mirror and picture a baby in the crook of your arm, a toddler perched on your hip, a kid stood by your side, tugging on the hem of your shirt – she feels a little closer. A little clearer. She just has to look over her shoulder, notice you waiting. I’m right here, she says. Come find me.

Mom. Mom and Dad.

You imagine Joel right now, sat in some ritzy restaurant with jazz music and stained-glass lamps on every table, ordering Vanessa some glorified lentil soup and slapping his card over the bill before the waiter has a chance to reveal the damage to him. Your lips twist at the thought – her jewels and her long hair and her sweet little smile laced with a smug possession.

And then you slap your own wrists, hissing to yourself to shut the fuck up.

“She’s nice,” you argue out loud, thin air holding no debate. “She’s kind, and I like her. She’s good for him.”

And then the air replies. Good for him, it swirls, but you could do it better.

Your arm lifts, lingering for a beat before batting the thought away.

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks, between pushing yourself out of his embrace in bed, and pulling yourself back into it – armed with a pregnancy test and a chest full of fear. Three weeks of dodging him, of your cheeks bubbling with embarrassment and regret anytime you thought of it; of hoping to God that Alice or Diane or Steve and Kris across the street wouldn’t clairvoyantly know what had transpired that night and corner you on your own front lawn.

A one-night stand. That’s all it was. Two lonely bodies, excitement enough to convince you both that it was a good idea; a fitted suit and a backless dress crumpled together on the floor. Liquid courage lacing it all together.

Three weeks, then, of reminding yourself how it felt: how amazing you were together. Your hand between your legs and Joel’s name between your teeth.

Fuck. If only he knew. Goodforhimgoodforhim she’s so good for him but I’m better.

You did it better. You know you did. The sun was cresting the horizon by the time the two of you stopped. You hauled yourselves down to breakfast and sat at least three people apart, made forced conversation with Maria about the DJ stumbling off with one of her cousins, while the ghostly ache of Joel’s body churned somewhere deep inside you.

It travels through your veins the way that everything does right now: urgent and unforgiving. A need to be dealt with, immediately. Coursing through your body, an arrowhead pointing somewhere you know it shouldn’t. But your hands lift anyway – following it, loosening the waist of your sweatpants and skimming beneath your underwear.

Your body lights at the first touch. The first dip of your middle finger against the plush over your clit. Knees bend, thighs part. You push your underwear down your hips, settling your bottoms loose on your legs. You’re already wet. You’re already there.

Good fucking girl. She’s good but I’m better, right? Take it, baby. Does she take it like I take it? Take it. Can she take you like I did?

Quicker and quicker and quicker, your fingers heavy on your clit. The other hand sifting between your folds, dipping to collect a glimmer of wet. Yeah. Just like that. Do you fuck her like you fucked me? You feel what you do to me? Fuck no, you don’t. You’ve never fucked anyone like you fucked me.

Head back, eyes fluttering closed, lips parting to breathe answers to a man who isn’t here. To a man who, as he dips sourdough into an overpriced soup, sure as hell isn’t thinking about that time he fucked you so good he got you fucking pregnant.

Well. Maybe he is. You are, right?

Voice without body, drawl etched in your memory. Think she can take it all? You hum in amusement, waiting for him to answer his own question. Yeah, she can.

Attagirl. Your legs spread further, knee lifting as you insert two slick-coated fingers. His hands are on your thighs, following the dip of your hips, holding your waist as you guide him back inside. Attagirl. That’s my – Fuck, Joel, you’re so b– That’s my fuckin’ girl. Take it. Touch it. His thumb on your clit – his, not yours. You like that? Yeah, that’s nice, ain’t it?

The flesh of your breasts filling his palms, squeezing and nipping and rolling between. The warmth leaking between your legs: his and yours and fuck, he’s so deep and he’s filling you again and he’s groaning as more dribbles from where he splits your body around his own, holding you still until he’s done. Until he’s empty.

“Joel,” you whine, a third finger pushing in.

Between your hips. Headboard hammering against the wall. The sun hanging loose at the bottom of the sky. Gonna make me come again, baby. Do it. Do something irreversible. Change me forever. Fuck me fuck me fill me and then pull out, push back in with the wet squelch of your come mixing with mine and changing me forever. Making me brand new. Making me yours.

Another moan. Louder. Sharper.

Yours yours yours. All mine? All yours. We’re good at this. I know we are. Who fucks you like this? No one – No one – just you – just me. It’s so big, fuck, but I can take it. Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. All I do is think about you. All I fucking do – You gonna come for me? – is think about you.

Know you need it. Let ‘em hear you, downstairs.

Fuck, I’m thinking about you. Come home. I need you to come home, need you to –

Fuck me, Joel, I’m –

Good girl.

– fuck me.

Atta fuckin’ girl.

She’s good but I do it so much better.

We’re good at this. ‘s do it again.

She’s not as good as me.

Again? Again.

She’s not as good. She’s no fucking good.

Your walls clamp around your fist, entire body shuddering to a stop. Breath held by something shaped like the hook of his accent, two fingers either side of your throat. The same smirk on his lips that convinced you in the first place. Fuck, baby, fuck me.

“Joel,” you cry out, the sound ripping between your vocal cords, punching against the ceiling and reverberating in your ears. Your body convulses on the mattress, back arching and slackening again. “Fuck, I’m – oh, my –”

Just feel it, baby. Feel me. You got it.

Let go.

Your lungs lurch open again, breath flooding in like waves spilling over the gunwale and rushing down to pool at your feet. A lulling rock to your movements, chest rising and falling like the steady tide. Soothing, coming down. Foam and salt carrying the flotsam away, the jagged glass of his name disappearing to sea again.

And then he’s gone.

And you’re just alone in your bedroom.

Last you checked your phone, now face-down on the carpet at your hip, it was eight p.m. Streetlights on, the sky painted by the pale dregs of daytime.

Now, you lie in near-darkness, blinking up at the ceiling. Hand sifting through a bag of glow-in-the-dark stars, comparing the different sizes, considering where to stick them, and then tossing them back in frustration.

Your front door clicks open, a pause between the sound and his voice.

“Anyone home?” Joel calls, and you lift your wrist as though he can see it from the bottom of the fucking stairs.

“Up here,” you eventually announce, knuckles rubbing your tired eyes until Catherine wheels spatter across your eyelids.

His shadow splits the light from the hallway, the long rectangle crossing over your swollen belly. “The hell are you doin’?” he asks, wandering in.

You lift the bag. “Decorating. The hell are you doin’?”

He pulls your nursing pillow from its temporary home in the crib and tosses it down on the carpet, bending to lift your shoulders and slot it underneath. “Scooch,” he says, groaning as he lays back beside you. He smells like whiskey and cologne. All woody, pine and spice.

“You got a bad back,” you warn him. “You shouldn’t be all the way down here.”

“You’re seven months pregnant,” Joel clicks his teeth, “neither should you.”

“What if you get stuck ‘n can’t get back up?”

Offense pulls his brows together. “What if you do?”

You smile in response, feeling the heat of his shoulder against yours. Sucking the scent of him through your nose. The pair of you exchanging smirks and batting eyelashes, wrapped in the cool darkness of the room. It’s juvenile and intimate.

You’re trying not to think too much about it.

“I can’t fucking figure this out. I put two of the big stars over there,” you point to the far corner of the room, streetlight splintered by the shades on the ceiling, “but it looks stupid having two so close. So, then I thought,” moving your arm to the right, “a cluster of smaller ones, right over the crib. But I couldn’t move the damn thing to climb up, so…I’ve been down here ever since.”

Joel lifts his hand, stopping your train of thought. “Please do not climb on anything, bein’ that you are…with child.” And then, when your eyes roll to meet his, he grins, adding, “Nesting got you good, huh?”

“You should see my kitchen cupboards. Never been tidier.” Your expression dissolves, voice quietens – your most desperate plea since that morning you shook hands on his doorstep. Your broken wardrobes and his lonely wedding invite. “Will you help me?” you ask.

He thinks it over less than once, dragging his gaze from the twirling star in your fingers. A quick shake of his head, like it’s obvious. “’course I will. ‘s what I’m here for.” And then he yawns, lowering a hand absentmindedly to settle on the curve of your stomach; a gentle pat in greeting to Duck.

“How was dinner?”

“Good,” Joel lies.

“Vanessa okay?”

“Good,” again.

“Sorry.”

Joel’s eyes roll, fingers pausing. “Why do you always gotta be sorry for som’?”

You shrug when you realize it’s not a rhetorical question. He’s genuinely asking. “I don’t know. Just tryna be polite. I know you’d probably rather be at home right now, not…deciding where some plastic fuckin’ stars should go.”

“For my kid’s bedroom? For you?” He huffs something shaped like disapproval. “Do me a favor – stop with the sorrys, alright?”

“I’m not even done with the last fucking favor I said I’d do you.” Your eyes flit down to your bump.

He stares blankly. You know there’s a laugh gathering like hot air on a windowpane behind his eyes, threatening to shatter the glass.

“Fine,” you concede, “dickhead.”

“Better.”

You sigh, looking back down at the phosphorescent shape in your hands. Turning it over and over and over, matching the rhythm of his fingers tensing and then untensing on your belly. His fingers, matching the rhythm of your chest rising and falling with breath. The room quiet. The night’s eyes averted, even just for this moment.

“If it’s anything,” Joel says, “I think the stars look alright.”

Another stolen smile. Another defiant show of teeth. You place your hand on top of his: a thankful gesture, an invitation. Something in between.

Joel blinks back at you, his eyes flitting from yours to your lips. The dim light in the room swallowing the two of you whole, secluded in the upstairs of your home. And you think, Kiss me, kiss me kiss me kiss me, and you will the words over your tongue in a ragged breath – hoping that Joel might breathe them in and feel their sharp edges as they absorb into his bloodstream, each cell flipping like the star in your hand and whispering the same two words to him: Kiss her kiss her kiss her.

But right then –

There’s a burst of movement. Under your fingertips. A fluttering, like bubbles popping right below the surface of your skin.

Your eyes snap down at the same time Joel’s do; your fingers separating and hovering over your tummy.

“Did you – did you feel –?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Uhuh. Was that –?”

“I don’t know. Was it?”

He takes your hand, pressing it back against your stomach with his on top. Your knuckles safe in the canopy of his palm. Both staring into space as you hold your breath.

“They’re not…they’re not doin’ it, now…”

“Maybe it was just –”

“Wait! Did you feel that?”

A second burst on your womb, a tiny beat on the other side of your bump. A wide grin breaks across your cheeks, a disbelieving laugh escaping.

Joel laughs, too. “Is that – is that the first time they’ve ever –?”

“Yeah,” you sniff, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “that’s the first I’ve ever felt ‘em, anyways.”

“Wait,” Joel says, lifting his hand and holding a finger up. Just yours on your belly. “They doin’ it?”

Your head shakes.

When he lowers his hand, Duckie kicks again. The two of you lean in to one another, exchanging laughter. You lift your own hand, watching his expression as he waits patiently.

But then his head shakes, too. “Nothing. They’re only doin’ it when it’s both of us.”

“What the fuck?” you laugh, replacing your hand and waiting for the baby drum. “How can they even tell? What the f–?”

You shift your hands around the globe of your bump, pausing every so often to feel for Duck’s movements. A tiny fist punching, or a heel kicking, or an elbow shoving right above your navel in a way that’s bordering on painful, but numbed by the sheer thrill of it.

And for a while, it’s all you do: play tag with your unborn baby, giggling when they respond to your tapping fingers and cooing voices.

Joel sits up, leaning on his elbow to talk to his kid; runs two fingers across your shirt like a pair of legs scaling a cotton covered hill. And he laughs, and you laugh at his laugh, as if he’s a kid himself again – tearing apart gifts on his birthday, gasping and throwing his head back with glee at whatever he uncovers.

“It feel weird?” he asks, glancing up at you.

“So fucking weird,” you tell him.

“Does it hurt?”

“More…ticklish, if anything. Might get kinda annoying, if they start doing it when I’m tryna sleep, or somethin’…”

Joel lowers his jaw to your stomach, whispering, “You know what to do, Duckie. Make your daddy proud.”

You slap his shoulder, muttering, “Asshole.”

“Alright,” he says, splintered by a laugh. He pushes himself to his feet, swiping the bag of stars from your side. “Let’s get these up so you two can get some sleep.”

You groan as he pulls you upright, one last pat on your stomach, looking at you a second too long and a touch too meaningful. Too warm, too inviting.

It’s the calm before the storm, though you’re still stood motionless. Still trying to work out whether the tornado is moving away, or headed directly for you.

At five in the morning, Vanessa’s sister calls her.

“Heart attack,” Joel tells you a few hours later, the rustle of paper crinkling in your ear. The truck hums in the background. He speaks through a mouthful of sandwich. “Her dad always had a condition, but they thought they were managin’ it with medication,” another crinkle, and then, voice even more obscured, “but he got rushed to hospital durin’ the night, and…”

“Poor Vanessa,” you reply, nail drawing shapes on the curve of your bump in attempt to lull Duck into a more relaxed state than the sharp kicks they’re throwing at your ribs. Now big and strong enough to do considerable damage, your voice falters each time they swing. “Is she – son of a bitch – is she okay?”

“Shaken up,” he says, turn signal ticking over his voice. “She’ll be alright. She’s pragmatic like that. Problem is – they’re in Houston. Her whole family. So I guess that’s where the funeral’s gonna be.”

You swing your legs off the couch, heaving your awkward, nine-months-pregnant body to your feet – the irritating scratch of hunger suddenly gnawing at your stomach. “Yeah?” you say, waddling through to the kitchen. “So?”

“So,” Joel takes another bite of sandwich, “she has to – I mean, we have to…go. To Houston.”

“We?” You slot the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you fish out a couple slices of bread.

“Me ‘n Vanessa.”

“Uhuh,” you carve a knife around a jar of peanut butter, “you gotta be there for her.”

Joel sounds a little defensive. “I know. And I am. I’m goin’ to be. ‘s just – I gotta be there for you, too. For – for Duck.”

Your stomach swirls, a fire catching which lights your chest in a trickle of flame.

“You are. You will be. Houston’s only, like, three hours away.”

He sighs.

The turn signal fills the silence between you, between Joel and an appropriate answer. Clicking like the sound of a tennis match, his head spinning between his grief-stricken girlfriend, and the third-trimester mother of his child.

“I’m here,” he says, and you hear the squeal of brakes out front. “Give me a sec.”

The door pushes open as you sink back into the couch, balancing the plate on the planet beneath your breasts. Joel crumples his sandwich paper in his fist and lowers his hand over the back of the couch, scrunching his fingers over your belly as he passes.

“Thought you hated that stuff,” he calls over his shoulder, disappearing into your kitchen.

“I had a craving,” you say, ripping the first bite from your sandwich. “You made me hungry.”

He returns a minute later with a glass of water which he sets down on the coffee table in front of you. He lifts your legs, letting them fall gently in his lap when he collapses into the opposite end of the couch, heels of his palms pressing against his eyes.

You tap his thigh with the ball of your foot and he turns to you, placing a hand over your ankles. A sticky paste of peanut butter and bread between your molars, you ask, “What’shup?”

Joel holds back a smirk at your chipmunk cheeks. “Just – just worried that you…you know, while I’m gone, is all.”

You scoff, gulping. “Come on. I am not gonna go into labor in the, what – two days? How long would you even be gone?”

He seems to wince at the thought, fingers sifting through his hair – a gray sweep sat casually over his left eyebrow; flicks following the curve of his ear towards the hinge of his jaw. “Less than that, if I can help it.”

“Joel.”

He turns to you, saying your name just as deflated in response.

“You have to go.”

He rolls his eyes, thumb and middle finger massaging his temples. Crosses his arms and huffs like a teenager. “Well, I ain’t happy about it.”

You snort, unable to hold it in as you take another bite. “I ‘on’t think Vanesha’sh too happy about it, either, to be honesh wih ya.”

Joel’s jaw slackens, a choked laugh bursting from the back of his throat. He lifts a cushion and swings it in your direction. “Heartless. That’s heartless, you know that? Jesus, baby.”

He leaves on Saturday morning.

You stand on your porch, watching him shove a suitcase into the backseat of his truck, squinting in the sunlight as he stalks across your front yard. Joining you in the shade, he leans into you, shoving you lightly.

“Quit it.” Your hand locking with his, steadying yourself. Something in the back of your mind begging him not to let go.

And as if he can hear the thought: “I can stay. You know I can stay, right?”

“I don’t want you to stay,” you tell him, sweeping the hair from his forehead. “We will be fine. We’ll stay up late, eat junk food and watch TV; I’ll do audio description for Duck…”

He scoffs, glancing across the street.

“…and then you’ll be back home, back to buggin’ the hell out of us. It’ll be Monday before you know it.”

Joel’s jaw tightens. “And what if…?”

“You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” he shrugs, tongue in his cheek, “they’re half you.”

“Alright,” you click your teeth, turning away from the simper on his lips, “why don’t you just fuck off to Houston now, asshole?”

“I’ll fuck off, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Uhuh. Here’s hoping you don’t break down, or get a flat, or get struck by lightning, or anything.”

“You’re so funny,” he whispers, leaning closer.

“Hm. Now go.”

His jaw turns, beard grazing your skin. And then his lips; soft and warm, damp when he kisses your cheek. A moment too long. And he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t lean back the way you both know he should. No, he lingers – his lips by your ear, eyes flitting up to the street to make sure nobody sees.

“Joel –”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t –”

“I know.”

But your arm is hooking around his neck, asking him to do it anyway, and his lips are lowering to yours, submitting to your request, and what’s supposed to be a goodbye kiss lasts at least a few seconds too long for it to mean anything less than a don’t go kiss.

You pull away when you feel the wet dab of his tongue against yours, realizing with an ice-cold shock where you are, and who he is, and what’s happening. Realizing how fucking stupid it’d be for both of you, how catastrophic and terrible the outcome.

A one-night stand.

A one-night –

He leans his forehead against yours, nose nuzzling your cheek. “I’ll call you when we get there.”

Your arm loosens, letting him go.

Just – letting him go.

Saturday Night Live ends just after midnight.

You arch your back into the couch, your swollen belly pushing forward. It’s an effort to get to your feet, what with the steady ache in your back all day, the weight on your front, and the fucking human being smushed into every vital organ inside you.

A deep breath feels like it inflates your lungs only halfway, Duck using the bottom half as a fucking ass cushion, and scaling the stairs takes another ten minutes – by the end of which, you’re slumped against the handrail, pausing before making off for your room.

You sink into the mattress, creasing the cool, smooth sheets. Duck stirs inside you, stretches out and throws a right hook against your bladder. You curse under your breath, hoisting yourself back to your feet.

“We gotta sleep, baby,” you hum, swaying back and forth with a hand under your belly. “Shh, ‘s okay. Take your fuckin’ fist outta my bladder, you little asshole.”

Whichever traits of yours and Joel’s have blended into the human cocktail growing in your uterus, you know one thing for certain: this kid has your stubbornness. The weight remains on your bladder, regardless of how much swaying, or pacing, or rubbing, or threatening you do.

You growl, wandering through the upper floor of your house in attempt to shift Duckie, or distract yourself, or, at the very least, tire the two of you out enough to fall asleep.

From the nursery door handle hangs a little wooden star, a tauntingly sleepy smile painted on it. You push the door open with two hesitant fingers, stepping into the still bedroom, the weak wash of streetlight meeting moonlight on the greenish walls.

You suck in a deep breath, floorboards squealing as you take your first step. Over the crib hangs a plastic mobile, soft plush shapes twirling slowly. The matching changing table slotted alongside it, a rocking chair over by the window.

You pad across a fluffy rug and lower yourself into the chair, tilting back and forth on your toes as you glance around one of the two rooms you and Joel have spent the most time in since that October morning bonded you forever. A baby duck ornament perched on a shelf above the dresser, its orange legs dangling. A multi-photo frame Joel’s mom bought you, both scans in the first two slots and the third empty, lying in wait.

Your breathing fragments, struggles, eyes slipping over to the baby clothes hanging in the closet. “You know, little Duckie,” you whisper, rubbing your bump and thinking back to Tommy’s words six months ago, “you are a pretty lucky kid.”

The hooded towel robe on the back of the door, the perfect size for a newborn. The framed prints sat atop the chest of drawers, waiting to be nailed to the wall: a rainbow, a frog, a starry sky.

“You got two houses. Two bedrooms, all to yourself. You got two parents who already love you more ‘n the whole world. And,” you gulp, “you got Vanessa. And she loves you, too.”

You glance down, watching the tiny pulse of movement when the baby stretches in your womb. Your hands scoop them up, as if holding them closer than they already are. As if already cradling them, forcing yourself to feel less alone.

Duck seems to quieten, to still; seems to consider what you’re avoiding. Reads between the lines, hears the words you’re not speaking.

Two of everything, you think, and I barely even had one.

The most evidence you have of being loved by anyone in your life is the house you live in. Four brick walls and three decades’ worth of belongings, more inheritance than memories. But they roll around like marbles – they echo against the walls when they hit them. There’s nothing binding them, no thread of love, or family, or anything real enough to hold it all together.

You’re the only living organ inside a skeleton’s cage. A lonely little heartbeat, making noise for no one to hear.

And that’s the way it has been, at least since you were eight. The absence of warmth and safety isn’t anything new to you – it left the second your parents did. The last scrunch of your mom’s nails on your head, the last kiss of her lips to your plump little cheeks. The passing over to your grandma, like you were cargo, like you were a box to be checked.

Maybe you found some distant flicker of heat in the way Joel looked at you, the day you told him you were pregnant. Maybe you saw the same glimmer of a flame that you used to see in your mom’s eye. The rosy smell of her perfume, the feel of her finger inside five of yours. Maybe, for the first time since you were a kid, you felt safe.

We’re gonna work it out, he said. I’m here. We’re in this together, alright? I am not running out on you.

Together. And yet, now, sat in your child’s nursery – a room built from scratch by Joel’s two hands and strung together by every beat of your heart – you’ve never felt more alone. The same two hands that are wrapped around Vanessa right now, consoling her, wiping her tears away, massaging her shoulders and sweeping her hair from her eyes.

And the same heartbeat which quickens now, fueled by an angry desire, an impulse scratching deep into your flesh to march all the damn way to Houston and tear the pair of them apart. Like he’s yours; like the way he touches you and looks at you and talks to you means anything more than his child growing inside you.

Like it’s you he’s touching and looking at and talking to, and not Duck. Like his attention won’t cease to shine on you, the second this little baby leaves your body.

And then, washing over the scorching hot sand of anger: a foam-lined wave of guilt. Of shame, for wishing for the breakdown of something that clearly makes the two of them happy. That makes Joel…happy.

He doesn’t owe you anything – he was never yours to begin with. Just one drunken night, a mistake until you noticed the two pale lines on the pregnancy test. And by that point, he was already hers again. You had missed him without even knowing it.

You sigh, pushing up from the rocking chair and reaching for a tissue from the changing table. Turning back, giving the room one last teary glance before closing the door, you sniff.

“You’re just…the luckiest little kid who’s ever gonna live.”

At one twenty a.m., cicadas chirping and trees rustling, the low breeze carrying the sounds through your half-open window – your back begins to ache. A blunt, gnawing pain. Feels like your period, and in your doze, you stuff a pillow between your legs and pray you don’t stain the sheets with a show of blood.

The realization comes over you as if that stifling breeze flips to freezing. You slowly come around, eyes peeling open as you think it over twice, then three times, then four. Duck shifts somewhere deep inside you, somewhere you’ve never felt them shift before.

“…No. Not right now, Duck. You gotta give me, like, twenty-four hours. Just – wait until your dad gets ho–��

A blinding pain interrupts you, the moonlit-blue room fading out of focus for half a second before you’re wide awake, clutching the bottom of your spine where you’re sure the kid just tore a fucking hole straight through your uterus.

“You’re a fucking dick,” you whimper, fingers clenching in tight fists around the bedsheets. “You’re a fucking – dick.”

One twenty-three. You go into labor.

#i think duckie is my favorite character i've ever written. that fetus has more personality than vanessa icl #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel #neighbor!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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drghostwrite · 3 months

Text

Jealousy looks good on you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha gets jealous and confronts reader, turns into something steamy.

TW: jealousy, some angst, smut(minors DNI)

******************************************************** Natasha stood on the balcony above the training room, she loved watching you train, the way your body moved with such grace and precision but enough intensity and power to kill. You were one of the best, an improved super soldier, smarter, faster, stronger and of course drop dead gorgeous compared to Steve and Bucky.

Natasha had fallen for you the day she met you, finally someone who understood her but that also had no problems putting her in her place, she loved how safe and comfortable you made her feel, you would step into a room and she could breathe again, you made her laugh like no one else, you could cook and had a great sense of style. Don’t even get her started on the bedroom, countless nights were spent tangled together under dark satin sheets.

most off all she loved your resilience, how you always fought and gave your best, how gentle you were considering what you had been through, she would watch as you helped trained recruits from the SHEILD academy.

that’s where she found herself today, watching you train, you were by yourself until one Maria Hill, assistant director of SHEILD, came in.

“Hey Y/N” she greeted with a smile and wave.

“Hey Maria, what’s going on?”

“not much just coming to get a session in… any chance you wanna help?” She motioned towards the sparring ring.

“I’d be happy to..” you walked over climbing through the ropes, you waited as she wrapped her hands and then climbed into the ring.

“Ready?” You asked.

“ready to show you who’s boss…” she teased. You didn’t know Nat was watching from above, she eyed you carefully as you sparred, she could feel her face and neck warming up, you usually only sparred with her due to not many being able to take you on other than the other two super soldiers.

You both went punch for punch until one move had you dodging and you tweaked your shoulder, “ah, dammit.” You said wincing as Maria got the upper hand brining you to your knees, once she realized you were in pain she let off but only to try and help you.

This made Natasha even more nervous seeing as Maria placed gentle hands over your shoulder, she quickly took off to go down to the training room.

“Nice one Hill.” You stood slightly taller than her and she looked at you.

“are you okay?” She asked concerned.

“I’m fine, I’ve seen worse.” You chuckled, hearing the doors slide open, a very worried and slightly frustrated Natasha bursting through the doors.

“Y/N, I swear if you hurt yourself.”

“Baby, I’m fine. It’s okay.” You stepped out of the ring, slight favoring the shoulder.

“Hey look just go get it checked out, I’m good by myself.” Maria assured.

“thanks, see ya later.” You nodded as Nat glared and grabbed your sweatshirt that was hanging over the ropes, walking next to you as you left. She basically drug you down to Dr. Cho who said that you had just strained the muscle too much but with your super soldier genetics you’d be healed by the end of the day.

“Natasha, baby relax I’m okay.” You said to a very frustrated Natasha as you walked into your shared floor in the Avengers tower, you had gone to take a shower and left a very frustrated Natasha standing in your kitchen. She didn’t say anything she just huffed again and walked towards your bedroom.

“Natasha,” you called following her, “Nat what’s wrong? I’m okay, no serious injuries.” You said entering the large bedroom behind her.

“I’m not upset, it’s fine.” She said in a hushed tone.

“baby I didn’t say you were upset, but the scoffing and silence shows me otherwise… what’s going on?” You felt her tense under your hand as you ran it along her lower back guiding her to turn towards you, gorgeous green eyes staring back into yours.

“you almost got hurt…” she whispered.

“but I’m okay…” you ran your hand up her side, fingers ghosting over her curves.

“you’re not gonna be in a minute.” She said meeting your lips with a bruising kiss. She pushed you back until you were against the wall, her hands exploring your body.

“mhm,” you chuckled, “not sure what’s gotten into you.”

“oh just shut up.” She said, pulling your shirt over your head revealing the black bra you had underneath, you bent down to kiss her but she wrapped a well manicured hand around your neck pushing your chin up for easy access, running her tongue along your neck. You let a small whine escape as you felt the knot growing in your core, whatever side of her this was you were very turned on by it. She placed kisses up your neck before one bruising kiss on your lips, her hand found its way into the pajama pants that you had on noticing you didn’t have panties on, she ran her fingers over your mound. You gasped into the kiss as she found your clit.

“oh god Nat.” You whined out.

“so wet for me baby.” She said in a sultry voice, pulling a moan from your lips. “Let’s get you out of these.” She said dropping your pants and guiding you to the bed, where she gently pushed you down and made you watch as she stripped herself.

You laid there taking in her gorgeous body from her red hair and toned features, the occasional scar that you loved to trace. When she was done she very slowly crawled up between your legs, hooded green eyes watching your every move.

“Natasha…” you said in a low sultry tone, the small rasp in your voice going right through her, exciting her core.

“detka, my love.” she whispered in between kisses, kisses that turned into small bites and nips, that she then placed gentle kisses over.

“I want everyone… to know… who you belong to.” She spoke into the softly lit room, leaving a mark on your neck that you would cover in the morning.

“dammmnittt…” she drew a hiss from your lips and you knew you were a dead woman.

“You’re mine… all mine… my beautiful love… my protector… my safe place… my person…” she said in between kisses, leaving emphasis on every “my” she spoke, hands ghosting over your curves.

“oh my God…” you said and she sat up to read your eyes.

“what my love?” she asked placing a kiss on your lips.

“your jealous… your jealous and it so hot.” You both laughed. “I like this side of you, jealousy us sexy on you.”

“oh is it?” She teased tracing her hands back up your body as she settled between your legs.

“baby…” before you could finish you threw your head back letting out a satisfied groan, Natasha finding your sweet spot with he mouth and using two fingers.

“oh my god, yesss baby, right there…” you had one hand in her fiery red hair as you watched her, she looked up at you while eating you out the eye contact driving you both mad, her arm pumping in and out as she watched your chest rise and fall, reaching up to run fingers over sensitive nipples.

“Nat, baby… I’m gonna…”

“cum for me baby.” she said letting out a low moan which rocked through your core, you felt the knot finally release as you came all over her fingers.

You were trying to calm your breathing down when she crawled back up your body, you laughed as she gave you a smile. “I give you full permission to be jealous more often.” she chuckled, moving to untangle from you but you stopped her wrapping your arms tighter around her naked body.

“nuh uh…”

“Y/N,” she gave a small laugh, “I think I got my point across.”

“mm,” you nodded, “and I can’t return the favor?” darkened green eyes looked up at you.

“come here lover…” you said pulling her up your body, until her knees were on either side of your head, wrapping your hands around her toned thighs and pulling her close to you.

“Y/N…” she whined letting out a low moan as her tension finally started to release. Between your tongue and your nose occasionally brushing over her clit she was in heaven and it was long before one low moan from you rocked through her core and she let out a gasp, gripping the headboard to steady herself.

she slid her body down pinning your hands above your head. “Natasha…” you leaned up to kiss her and she pulled one hand away putting a well manicured finger to your lips. You tried moving your hands but she kept them pinned.

“Baby please let me touch you.”

“hmm,” she chuckled, “I just want you to remember whose you are and that I’m the only woman who you’ll touch like that… unless you want to lose your hands.” She bent down to kiss you, and you intertwined one of your hands with hers fingers interlocking the other running along her shoulder down to her butt and then smoothly stopping on her lower back.

“Natasha Romanoff you are the only woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with, though I like this jealous sex…”

“mm, do you?” She softly said kissing your lips, crawling back down your body, feeling as she nipped at your thigh, you let out a whine.

#x yn #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #jealousy #smut prompts #x reader smut

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gyll-yee-haw · 6 months

Note

Hi Maria!! I hope you’re doing well ❤️❤️

Do you mind writing Donnie and reader’s first time? He’d be so patient and careful with his girl the whole time, that if she ended up crying halfway through because of how good it felt, he’d be horrified that he hurt her somehow 😭 just something sweet for that poor man

Yes yes yes my poor sad boy deserves the world :(

Warnings: I was too horny writing this, so I went straight to the point, sorry. Loss of virginity, implied unprotected sex, p in v, Donnie being so subbie and cute and unable to not cum too soon :(, masturbation (f and mentions of m)

Like 1.3k words

---

It was a brand new feeling. And you couldn't believe how fucking incredible it was... with every movement of his cock scratching that special spot just right... sending waves of pleasure through your whole body... and then you'd look up and see the prettiest boy who's ever lived, right above you. Eyes so big, so blue, so curious, a little crinkle of worry on his forehead.

Oh my god, is she enjoying this? - was all he could think of.

He was so nervous. And it didn't help at all that your expression was so hard to read.

Still, he was just discovering what pussy drunk meant, cause he was getting the same waves of pleasure as you... and he couldn't stop.

He had been holding himself back, until he couldn't anymore. He left out a loud and pathetic moan. The hottest fucking thing you ever heard. Your pussy automatically clenched around his length.

"Oh my god" You whined, tears escaping your eyes.

Oh no. Oh shit. You were so fucking tight around him... but you were... crying?

"Baby... sorry... shit" He tried to pull out, but you held him in his place, wrapping arms and legs around him.

"Donnie, please..." You begged, tears falling on the pillow under your head.

"I'm hurting you!" He protested, stopping his thrusts immediately. His cock throbbed inside you in need, making him feel like crying.

"You're not hurting me!" You tried to buck your hips, but he was too close and you were holding him too tight to allow that.

"Then why are you crying?" The crinkle on his forehead grew.

"Cause it feels so fucking good..." You sighed. "Love your cock, Donnie..."

"Oh shit, doll, don't do this to me..." His cock throbbed uncontrollably inside you.

"Love it when it does that..." You smiled, biting your lip.

"Y/N, I'm serious..." He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the look on your face on that moment, otherwise the fun would be over too soon...

"Donnie, can we continue?" You asked, nails running up and down his back.

"Give me a sec." His face turned red.

"You're not hurting me, Don, I swear..." You insisted.

"Can't move." He whispered.

"Why?" You asked frustratedly.

"Cause you're squeezing me way too good." He admitted, face visibly burning.

"Oh..." You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Not fucking funny." He sighed. "Just wanted to please you. Such a shitty boyfriend..."

"Donnie, baby..." You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. "Need you to move... want you to cum so good for me..."

"But..."

"Come on, Donnie... I wanna see you cum... please?" You grabbed the hair on the back of his head, gently tugging on it. "Swear it's gonna make me feel so good..."

"You're supposed to do that first." He groaned, clearly mad at himself.

"Supposed to? There's no right and wrong. It's our first time." You assured him. "Do it for me, please? I'll let you do whatever you want to me afterwards, yeah? Promise it won't be over."

There was a new sparkle in his eyes after hearing that. He couldn't believe that he would get to play with your gorgeous body like he always dreamt of...

"Hmm... can I... hmm..." He got shy again, thinking of the possibilities. "Can I cum on your tits?"

"Fuck, Donnie..." You moaned. "Do it for me, baby, let me see you."

He removed himself from you and it was almost painful for both of you. But you didn't have much time to think. You got on your knees on the bed, watching Donnie stroke his cock. It was so hard... the tip as red as his cheeks, leaking something you couldn't wait to taste someday.

"Shit..." He moaned, desperation on his face. "I'm gonna cum..."

"Cum for me, Donnie..." You begged, just as desperate as him. "Cum all over my tits..."

He left out the hottest sounds you had ever heard as he painted your tits white. And your chin. And belly. He made an inexperienced mess... couldn't help it... he had never been this turned on his his life, his aim wouldn't be good.

"That was so fucking hot, Donnie..." you smiled, watching him fight for his life. You wondered if he would ever be able to stop blushing.

"Hm... everytime I... hmm..." He tried to talk, but was very distracted by the way your hand slided all the way to your pussy, starting to rub yourself.

"Keep talking." You said, eyes focused on his face.

"Everytime I... jerk off I... picture myself coming on your tits." He admitted. "Specially since you... uh... showed me them, the other day."

"Yeah?" You smirked, spreading your legs wider. "Was reality better than you imagined?"

He nodded eagerly. Your fingers started rubbing your clit faster and you left out a moan.

"I'm so sorry I didn't satisfy you..." He was still very disappointed. "I just... wanted our first time to be perfect."

"Shh... come here, baby boy." You chuckled. "Wanna touch me?"

It was stupid to be this excited about this, when he had literally just been inside you... but he didn't even care at this point. He kept his eyes glued to your face as he rubbed all the wrong spots. You had to direct his fingers to your clit. And when he got a reaction from you, indicating he was doing good... oh god.

"Ouch!" Your hips bucked. "Slower, Don... nice and slow..."

"M'sorry..." His eyes widened.

"It's okay, baby... just like that..." You praised. "It... it feels so good..."

"Yeah?" He asked proudly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please, Don..." You smiled.

The way you looked at each other before the kiss... you both knew. That was the moment you threw all the worries out of the window. Fuck a perfect first time. You were having fun, discovering each other's bodies. When he kissed you, it was so romantic. So intimate. So good... so good.

"Hm... Donnie..." You moaned against his lips. "You're gonna make me cum like this..."

"Please... please, I really want you to..." He crashed his lips against your again, rubbing you incredibly right.

It felt so new... having someone else's fingers making you cum. God, Donnie's fingers... that thought alone could drive you crazy.

More tears escaped your eyes as you reached your peak, but they didn't scare him anymore. They amazed him. He wouldn't get used to this any time soon...

"Stop, stop, stop!" You pushed his hand away, way too overstimulated when it all ended.

"Sorry!" He gasped.

"It's okay, Don." You smiled, feeling like you were floating. "Just felt too good."

"Did you, really?" He asked, with that beautiful smile of his.

"Hell yeah." You laid on your back, letting out a sigh of relief. "This was perfect."

"It... it was, wasn't it?" He smiled, laying beside you.

Donnie became such a clingy little boyfriend after that. And I don't mean only during that post orgasmic bliss... I mean, that boy won't leave you alone for days. Weeks. He's addicted to you. He wants to try everything he always dreamt of. He wants to try everything he's never heard of.

He wants to try everything with you.

#donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #donnie darko fanfic #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal smut

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bluetimeombre · 8 months

Text

⭒❃.✮:▹Call it what you want to, part 4!

[finally!! Here’s part 4, sorry it took so long to get up, I’ve been working on many other things that I want to share. Hope you like this one, the next part will be the final FINAL]

liked by... tchalamet, florencepugh, zendaya, tomblyth, tayrussell & others

yourusername: happy birthday tchalamet!! one of these days you'll bring back lil timmy tim. see you soon!!

1.1m likes 603k comments

user: 'see you soon?!' they're happening!

user: yourusername being the biggest timmy tim fan is the best thing ever

user: i love them

tchalamet: thank you daisy, my daisy

yourusername liked his comment

tchalamet: can't wait to see you

user: ur honour, they're in live

user: HE CALLS HER MY DAISY LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS IN WONKA IM DECEACED

user: hate to be tom rn

user: catch up, they're not together

user: they're not!?

user: happy birthday timmy

user: she's so sweet, urg love her

user: parents

user: i LOVED WONKA

user: isn't timmy in new york and she's been seen alone in london? does that mean they're going to each other

user: we are being fed

user: i swear he was just with kylie

user: they're so cute, you can tell timothee is so in love with her

⭒❃.✮:▹

timothee chalamet is texting ... you

⭒❃.✮:▹

tchalamet posted on his story…

Caption, 28!

liked by … tomblyth, joshandresrivera, tchalamet, zendaya & others

yourusername: nyc, treat me kindly xoxo

903k likes 655k comments

user: cute!!!!

user: dying rn

user: they’re together for the new year!!! r u kidding me!!!

user: looks like we know what timmy has planned for new years

user: PLS THEYRE so cute

user: no hate to my parents or I’ll kill you

user: mom, I’m going back to dads house

tomblyth: is that my shirt?

yourusername: u mean the shirt you LITERALLY gave me, stfu

user: not together my ass!!!!

user: tomblyth and yourusername all the way

user: she went to new york for his birthday and for new years, she’s in love with him

user: tchalamet and yourusername >>>

user: her and tom are so cute but as friends

user: her and timmy are literal goals

⭒❃.✮:▹

user: GUYS!!! LOOK AT THEM AHH, tchalamet and yourusername at his apartment in New York! They’re so IN LOVE

101k likes 45k comments

user: WHAT

user: what about Tom :(((((

user: she basically just lied in her vanity fair to make herself not look like a whore

user: slut

user: awwww I love them

user: she’s leading tom on

user: she was literally making out with tom like two months ago

user: how could she do this?

user: timmy needs to leave her

user: save timmy!

⭒❃.✮:▹

liked by…. yourusername, tchalamet, rachelzegler & hunterschafer

tomblyth: if you don’t have anything nice to say about one of my favourite FRIENDS then kindly shut the fuck up

1.3m likes comments restricted

⭒❃.✮:▹

taglist: @darlingisntit @hazzapotter @gotta-go-now @lucy-loaf @drewskeyyx @ennycutie @sparklingsounds @hoely-maria @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!

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444paigebueckers · 3 months

Text

PART 2: out of my league - paige bueckers

prologue previous part

✿𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚞𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✿𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚄𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎��𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕?

✿𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: cussing

✿𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 445

✿𝙰𝙽: 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠/ 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜! 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 :)

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ

Following the interaction, you couldn't believe you'd finally met the girl who'd taken up basically your entire TikTok FYP.

"She winked at me, RIGHT after our hands touched." You rave as you plop down on your roommate, Maria's, bed. Maria smirks, "Don't get too excited, you don't want her to think you're crazy. I mean, yeah, you are crazy but we'll save that for her to find out later," she teases. You playfully hit Maria as you pull out your phone.

New Notification: Paige 💕 (paigebueckers) started following you.

Paige 💕 wants to send you a message: you owe me for saving your ass earlier btw...

You do a double take at the notification on your phone, tossing it into Maria's pillows. "HOLY FUCK," you yelp. Maria's eyes grow wide, wondering what you could possibly be yapping about now. "Y/N? You good?" She asks, a bit of concern evident in her gaze. Quickly, you tussle through the pillows to find your phone, revealing the notification to your roommate. Maria raises an eyebrow at the notification. "What the HELL do I say?", you can't help but freak out a bit at the idea of DMing Paige back. "Maybe I should tease her back." You think of a message to reply with.

Quickly, you message Paige back: wait, before i figure out a way to make it up to you, how'd you figure out my name AND find my Instagram?😭

Seen by Paige 💕 (paigebueckers)

Paige 💕 (paigebueckers) is typing...

Paige 💕 (paigebueckers): may or may not have taken a bit of a deep dive into the UConn Huskie's Women's Soccer Instagram account...i had to figure out who exactly to send this DM to🤷‍♀️ i remembered seeing UCONN SOCCER on your shirt earlier lol.

You reveal the DM to Maria, to which she gasps. "Dude, she remembers your shirt? She was really paying attention, huh." She jabs at you and you blush. "Do you think she was just being friendly orrrr? I mean I don't even know if she likes girls," you question.

You get another notification.

Paige 💕 (paigebueckers) is typing...

Paige 💕 (paigebueckers): i swear i'm not a stalker, i just had to reach out, freshie. i mean, from one UConn athlete to another 😉

You beam as you read this message. "She's definitely flirting with you," Maria voices. "You think so?" You ask, making sure it's not just your delusions taking over.

You finally decide to be bold and reply: okayyy if you insist. so, how about i make it up to you by taking you out for coffee? i'd love to get to know you, yk, from one UConn athlete to another 😉

#paige bueckers imagine #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #womens basketball #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #wnba

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idkwhatever580 · 3 months

Text

Love you!

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: highschool!au where nat has a fat crush on yelenas bsf and needs a little help with what to do. Nat also has adhd :)

Warnings: swearing, nat being a dummy with adhd, smoochin, mentions of trigonometry 😰

A/n: I’m so sorry I didn’t post it earlier! Moving kicked my ass. @m0use123 I hope I did it justice!

Nobody’s pov

Natasha sighs and says

“I- I don’t know guys. It just. I can’t see her liking me back”

Wanda cuts in and says

“If there is a world where y/n doesn’t like you back then that world must be hell. Y/n is totally head over heels for you”

Nat rolls her eyes and says

“Y’all are so full of it. There’s no way that y/n even remotely likes me”

Maria says

“Actually we’re not kidding. She’s got the hots for you”

Natasha scoffs and says

“Okay. Whatever you say guys. Whatever makes you happy”

Carol gasps and says

“We should set you guys up!”

Natasha’s eyes go wide and she says

“No. No no no. No way. You are not setting us up”

Wanda then says

“But you’d be so cute together!”

Natasha sighs and says

“It’s not gonna happen. I mean. Could you imagine Lena’s reaction to us dating?! She’d flip her shit!”

Wanda looks over and says

“I don’t know. Yelena might be her best friend but they kind of act like sisters. Why not make it real?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and says

“Just stop guys.”

They all give up on their attempts but then they get an idea.

They subtly start texting back and forth on a group text without Natasha.

Ugly hags- Nat 💋

(Wand&Rabbit- Wanda

Christmas Carol- Carol

Mother Mary- Maria)

Wand&Rabbit: we should totally set them up

Christmas Carol: aren’t Lena and y/n supposed to come here later? We could make up a reason to get Nat and y/n alone 🤷‍♀️

Mother Mary: what excuse could we use to get them in nat’s room for enough time to figure out whatever they need to?

Wand&Rabbit: maybe we could play truth or dare and make them do 7 minutes in heaven! 🥵😏😏

Mother Mary: too obvious

Christmas Carol: Ria’s right we can’t be THAT obvious. Nat will know we’re up to something. She’s like a spy. Honestly I’m surprised she’s not sus about us texting rn 🥸🥸🥸

Wand&Rabbit: I think she’s looking at y/n’s insta rn. She’s prob lost in her eyes 🙄

Mother Mary: what if we use school as an excuse? I mean… y/n likes to tutor other students. And Nat has a trig text coming up. 👀

Christmas Carol: but Nat is like hella good at trig. Won’t y/n see right through it?

Wand&Rabbit: actually nat has been really stressed and has been wanting to work on more trig stuff. That’s a really good excuse. Especially since Lena despises trig. She’ll want nothing to do with it.

Mother Mary: so plan tutor sesh/ makeout sesh is a go?

Christmas Carol: I’m all for it.

Wand&Rabbit: I’m game.

Mother Mary: okay. Just checked y/n’s location. She’s pulling up with Lena now. 🤭

Christmas Carol: let’s do this. 🤫

Nobody’s pov

As Yelena walks in y/n trails behind her helping her carry a handful of groceries.

Yelena turns y/n and says

“Will you go get my fucking sestra? She needs to help with these. I got them. It’s her turn to unload them”

Y/n smiles and nods immediately knowing they get to see nat.

As y/n trots up to Natasha’s room she knocks and opens the door once she hears a come in.

She opens the door to find only Wanda, Maria, and carol

“Oh hey guys! Did you see nat? Lena is complaining that she needs to unload the groceries”

Carol says

“I think she’s in her closet maybe you could find her in there?”

Wanda smacks carols arm and says

“Actually! Tell nat we will handle the groceries”

They all make faces at each other which makes y/n quirk a brow but nonetheless she goes to knock on the closet door when they all move downstairs.

“Nat? Do you need help?”

“What! Oh! Uh- no! Shit- I’m good!”

As natasha says this she bumps her head on a hanger rack and y/n is concerned

“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound good in there”

Y/n goes to open the door and before she can see Natasha gets nervous and says the first thing that comes to mind

“I’m naked!!”

Y/n immediately closes the door and says

“Oh! I’m sorry I- I didn’t know”

She walks away before she makes it any more awkward.

As Natasha hears her crushes feet putter away, she slides down the door with a sigh.

Y/n goes back downstairs to help the others and Maria says

“So, is nat alright?”

Y/n blushes slightly and says

“Oh- yeah she um- she’s changing I think”

Maria nods her head and Wanda chirps in

“Hey! You’re good at trig right?”

Y/n nods her head and Wanda continues

“And you tutor other student who need help right?”

Y/n once again nods and says

“Why? Does somebody you know need help?”

Carol chips in and says

“Oh yes! Nat is really needing some help with studying for the upcoming exam”

Y/n furrows her brows and says

“Isn’t Natasha like way good at trig?”

Carol blanks and Maria falls in to help

“Yeah! But she’s been like really stressed out and has been trying to study in new ways! We think that having to study with someone who has the same skill set would maybe help reassure her”

Y/n nods in understanding and says

“That’s understandable. I could probably use some practice of my own as well! Does she know what time she wants to do it?”

Wanda nods and says

“Yes! Right now!”

Y/n pauses and says

“Oh- well I’m supposed to hang out with Lena today”

They pout and Carol says

“We will make sure you get the time you require with Yelena but I really think it would calm her nerves if you helped her now and she’s also been having a hard time with focusing on it as well. You know how she gets distracted”

Y/n weighs their options and finally agrees.

“Okay! Will you tell Yelena to not wait up on me? And help her with dinner please? Melina is out of town and Lena is just about as bad as Alexie with her cooking”

Y/n’s pov

I make my way up to Natasha’s room and knock again.

“Are you still changing? Or can I come in?”

She mumbles a small come in and I open the door

I step in and say

“Hey!”

Honestly I’m excited to spend time with her. I look at her desk and there’s books and papers spread out all messy.

She is drying her hair since she just got out of the shower.

God her natural hair is so beautiful. I wish she didn’t straighten it as much

“What do you want?”

She kind of comes off defensive and I say

“I don’t mean to intrude but the girls said that you needed some help with trig? I’m not as good as you but they said that you need to practice with someone who’s at least half way decent.”

She scoffs and says

“Of course. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t need your help”

I sigh and sit down on her bed opposite of where she’s sitting.

“I never said you did. I just thought that maybe we could help each other? I mean we’re both really good, but sometimes I find it hard to get good practice in when I’m the one being the teacher you know? Like tutoring is hard. And I do it so much that I barely have any time to study myself. I thought we could work together.”

She thinks about it and says

“Y-you don’t have to if you don’t want to”

I smile and set my hand on hers.

“I want to I probably wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

She chuckles awkwardly and I say

“Let’s get started”

I stand up and step over to her desk and she immediately hops up.

“Oh! Uh don’t mind that mess!”

She scratches the back of her neck and says

“I- um. I’ve been a little messy lately”

She tries to go and fix it but I stop her wrist and say

“I said I’d help you right? We can clean it up together and then start. Yeah?”

Her face turns red when I grab her wrist and she says

“Y-yeah”

It’s honestly cute. Oh great. Butterflies. I hate when she does that to me.

I let go of her hand and pull up a chair so we can both sit. We start organizing her desk in a way that is efficient but also where she can easily manage it.

Then we open the books. We go back and forth with trig until our conversations drift off and we get distracted.

Now we’re talking about Chappell Roan and Reneé Rapp and how great they are.

“What are your favorite songs nat?”

“By Chappell Roan or Reneé Rapp?”

“Hmm. Both!”

“Let me think… This is hard. But I think my favorite by Reneé Rapp is I do and my fav by Chappell Roan right now is picture you”

I smile and heat rises to my cheeks and I say

“Is there a person that you think about when you listen or just good beats?”

She turns red and says

“Uh- yeah there’s a girl. But no more questions about that! What are your favorites?”

I know immediately but I pretend to think

“Hmm… I think snow angel is my favorite by Reneé Rapp and then by Chappell Roan… kaleidoscope!”

I smile knowing what her next question will be and I say

“And I think of my dad in snow angel because it talks about addiction and my dad is an alcoholic. Which you know is why I spend a lot of time here. And I think about a girl for kaleidoscope as well”

She smiles and says

“That’s rough. I’m so sorry about your dad”

I shrug and say

“It’s alright. I can’t change him. But maybe he’ll be better one day”

I sign and space out for a split second before I shake myself out of it and say

“Let’s finish practicing this trig!”

Honestly. It kind of startled Natasha a bit when I said that because she seemed to be spaced out as well.

“Oh! Right yes! Sorry I get so distracted all the time”

I smirk and say

“It’s okay I do too.”

We smile at each other and finish working on trig. Then I say

“We better wrap it up. We’ve been up here for an hour and Yelena is sure to start crawling her way up here soon”

“Yeah I guess so.”

I get up to go and I turn around when Natasha says

“Wait! Y/n, I just want to thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me”

I smile and say

“Don’t worry about it. I needed it too. So we’re even.”

Then I turn to her door and she follows me to the room.

As I step out of the door, I turn around and smile at nat. I hold my hand out and twirl a piece of her hair in my hand and say

"You should wear your hair natural more."

She furrows her eyebrows and says

"Why?"

I sigh and say

"It's so beautiful. I love it so much"

After I say that I kind of realize how close I got to her and how she is super tense.

Fuck I'm making her uncomfortable. God dammit y/ n you dumbass

I pull away after accidentally looking at her lips a bit too long. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks and say

"I should probably get going. Yelena is waiting for me probably so bye!”

Nat nods her head equally as awkward as me and says

"Okay bye! I love you!"

I freeze when she says this and she immediately realizes her mistake and slams the door in my face.

Did she really mean it? What the fuck?

I turn around and am about to go to the living room downstairs where Yelena is inevitably waiting for me but then I make a last minute decision and turn back around.

Yelena can wait

Nat’s pov

Fuck. I just did that. Shit shit shit. It just slipped out. I didn't even mean to. And I slammed the fucking door on her too!! She probably hates me

I am pacing back and forth in my bedroom as l contemplate my life. Then she starts banging on my door and I weigh my options.

If I let her in she might punch me in the face. But then again a punch to the face doesn’t sound half bad.

She stops knocking and says

“Nat I know you can hear me. Please let me in”

Her voice is so soft I can’t help but listen.

Y/n’s pov

The second the door swings open I step in and close the door.

“Tell me you mean it”

She looks dumbfounded and says

“Wha- what do I mean?”

I roll my eyes and say

“Tell me you meant it when you said that!”

She looks scared but defeated and says

“I meant it. I’m so sorry I-”

The second she says that I immediately pounce on her.

Her lips are so soft. And she kisses back immediately.

We kiss until I have to pull away for air and I giggle at her silly face.

“I love you too”

She widens her eyes and says

“You do?”

I laugh and say

“You know. You’re really stupid for someone who is better than me at trig”

She blushes and says

“You know, you’re really mean for someone who claims to love me”

I dramatically gasp and say

“I can’t let our friends think that you have the upper hand on me now can I?”

“I guess you’ll just have to suck it up from now on”

“From now on?”

I am literally standing in her arms with our lips slightly swollen and pink and I asked that.

She gets nervous and pulls away and says

“Well. Yeah. I thought maybe since this happened it meant we would be a thing?”

I sigh and say

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you”

I said the wrong thing again. God dammit. Why can’t I just be normal?

She gets scared and says

“Oh. I thought you liked me. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize”

I immediately fix my mistake

“No no no! I meant I was a little nervous and confused. And I didn’t mean to confuse you. I questioned it because I didn’t know if you wanted us to be a thing or not. I would love to be a thing. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to”

I stumble over my words and ramble

“Y/n, I want to be a thing”

I smile and say

“Oh okay. That’s good”

She smiles and I say

“So does that mean?”

“That were girlfriends? Yes”

I smile and hug her and say

“This is unreal”

She pulls away and says

“I know. I’ve liked you for so long now. Honestly I think the girls just wanted you to ‘tutor’ me as a ploy to set us up”

I laugh and say

“Probably”

Then I realize that I haven’t gone down to Yelena yet and I say

“I need to spend some time with Lena. I’m sorry. Oh my god! I just realized what is Yelena gonna do when she finds out about us! She’s gonna hate me forever and try to kill me!”

I start pacing back and forth and then Natasha grabs my arms to stop me and says

“Hey hey! It’s gonna be okay alright? She might have a hard time at first but she’ll get over herself eventually.”

I sigh and say

“Thanks natty. You always know how to calm me down”

She smiles and I look at her lips again.

Before we can kiss I say

“Maybe we just don’t have to tell her yet. Let her figure it out on her own?”

Natasha smiles and says

“I like that idea. Now kiss me”

I listen and touch our lips together. It’s soft and fiery at the same time. Like her touch is burning me but it’s also soothing at the same time.

She runs her tongue along my lip and tries to gain access into my mouth but I’m a little hard to get so I don’t comply.

She obviously takes charge in the bedroom because she never acts this brave any other time.

Once she gets tired of me rejecting her she grabs my butt and I gasp when she picks me up.

She uses this time to slip her tongue into my mouth and I moan at her taste.

My hands thread into her hair as she lays us down on her bed.

We’re so lost in the moment that we don’t hear her door open

“Y/n when are you guys going to be don-”

Yelena freezes in the doorway and the rest of the girls are standing behind her with all different reactions.

We pull away at her words and our eyes are wide and Natasha scurries to get off me.

Once Yelena composes herself she clears her throat and says

“Um. Gross. But kinda… cute.”

Honestly this kind of makes my heart calm down a bit. I thought it was going to jump out of my throat for a second.

Then Wanda breaks the silence and says

“Eee!! This is great!”

Maria smirks and crosses her arms

“Glad you two losers finally figured it out”

Yelena turns to them and says

“Figured what out?”

Carol rolls her eyes and says

“These dumbasses have been crushing on each other forever!”

We both are standing there and Yelena says

“Oh. I didn’t know that. But I guess now I do”

I sigh and say

“What do you think Lena?”

She thinks for a sec and says

“I don’t give a fuck. Love who you love. But please for the love of God don’t do anything while I’m here”

I smile and say

“Don’t worry we won’t.”

“Great now that that is settled I have a movie to watch with my best friend”

Yelena grabs me and pulls me downstairs and the rest of the girls come with us.

Thankfully Lena and I never sat on the same area of the couch. She always sits on the left side and I sit in the corner of the L so nat can join me.

She sits behind me and Lena looks over, fake gags, and then plays the movie.

——————————————

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #fanfic #avengers #natasha x reader #fanfiction #black widow #mcu

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scarlethexelove · 26 days

Text

Not Supposed To Happen

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2322

Warnings: A bit angsty, Fluff, Angry Wanda, Wanda blinded by anger, It all works out, Pregnancy, Really nothing much.

Pt 1, Pt 2

A/n: Ok so this is part 3 of Love Story and I actually split it into 2 parts so there will be a 4th to round it out. Wanda gets a little anxious and upset at reader. Also I know medically it's so wrong but we just going to blame it on the magic. That works right just blame it all on the magic. This is kind of shitty but whatever.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The backyard of your house is filled with all your friends and family as you celebrate the twin’s 5th birthday. You can’t believe how big they have gotten. Everyday you look at Az and see a mini version of your wife running around. You watch as Peter is being chased by the twins in the yard. All the giggling and laughing coming from them. MJ is sitting in a chair in the shade as her hand sits on her pregnant belly. Steve, Thor, and Tony are all arguing over who is the best at grilling. Sam and Bucky are standing around drinking beer giving each other lovey dovey eyes.

You chuckle to yourself looking at them. You always thought that it would be Steve and Bucky who would end up together but when Steve got with Sharon you were happy for him nonetheless. Then it was Sam and Bucky pining over each other. Your eyes drift over to see Sharon with Pepper and Aunt May. You watched as Peggy (Steve and Sharon’s daughter) and Morgan joined in on chasing Peter around. You laughed as he got taken down when the two older girls joined in.

Carol, Valkyrie, Nat, and Maria all drinking and enjoying themselves. Nat had a strong arm wrapped around Maria while Valkyrie had one around Carol. You were happy to see everyone happy with someone. Even Bruce had a girlfriend but neither of them could make it to the party. You then felt arms wrap around your waist and an even bigger smile stretching across your face.

“How’s your leg today baby?” You were leaning on your cane that you have to use some days. After the accident it became clear that your leg would never be the same. Some days when it was hard to move and painful. There was severe nerve damage to your leg but you're happy to be alive and have your family with you. “It’s ok, not much pain, just some stiffness.” Wanda takes her left arm from your waist and snakes it down to your thigh and starts to massage your muscle. A small moan escaping your lips without you even noticing but Wanda does when you feel her smirking against the back of your neck.

“Will you two get a room?” Carol calls from the other side of the yard. Valkyrie slapping Carol against the head. “Kids, there are kids running around.” Carol tries to defend herself. “Sorry, not sorry.” Valkyrie chuckles holding her wife. You chuckle at their display. “It’s just about my leg so no room is needed.” You yell back.

“Do you ever regret it?” Wanda asks softly. “Regret what?” You question what she is asking “Having to retire from SHIELD?” A smile spreads across your face. “Never, I have you and our two beautiful babies. And besides Tony has me helping him when he can’t get through a firewall.” You turn around in her grasp to see her giving you loving eyes. “I love you so much Y/n.” Wanda smiles at you which you return. “I love you more.” You gently kiss your wife.

“Mommy!” You hear your daughter yelling for you. You turn back around to see Peter holding Az up high as she wiggles in his grasp. “Peter, I swear to god if you drop my daughter. Wanda won’t be the one you have to run from.” Peter gently sets her down. Az and Billy comes bounding over to you and your wife. You pick up Az in your arms and Wanda picks up Billy. “Uncle Peter said we are going to have a little cousin to play with soon.” Billy said happily as Wanda placed a kiss on his head. “Yeah, you are.” You reply looking between your wife and twins.

“Mommy, Mama, when can we have a younger brother or sister?” Az questions the both of you. You both look at each other with wide eyes. Neither of you had, had the conversation about other kids since you almost died twice around when the twins were born. “Well sweetheart your mommy and I will have to see about that one. We love both of you very much.” Billy folded his arms over his chest pouting a bit at your wife’s words. “I want a baby brother so I’m not the only boy. You asked what we want for our birthday. We want a baby brother or sister.” You're taken aback by what Billy just said but you can’t help but think of how great it would be to have another mini-me of Wanda running around. Billy looked like a spinning image of you when you were a kid. You pulled Wanda in close to you as you both held onto the twins.

“Foods ready!” Tony yells from the grill as the twins struggle to get out of both of your arms. You both set them down as they run towards the food. You hug onto Wanda and whisper in her ear. “I think maybe we should think about having another. I love seeing your mini-me running around all the time. Though it’s your turn this time.” Wanda chuckles as she kisses your cheek. “Well of course it is.”

Both of you know that it would have to be her no matter what. After giving birth to the twins, you were told your chance of having another baby was one in a million chance. The damage done was severe. Both of you smile, looking at everyone enjoying themselves as the party continues.

It’s been 8 months since the party. Wanda is out grocery shopping while the twins are at school. You on the other hand have your face in the toilet bowl throwing up. You were so out of it you never even heard the front door open or the footsteps coming to your bathroom. You hadn’t even heard your name being called out. “Y/n?” Nat’s head peaked into the bathroom as you looked up at your best friend.

“Natty? What are you doing here?” Nat comes over and crouches down next to you. Moving your hair out of the way and rubbing up and down your back. “Are you ok?” She asks with concern written all over her face. “I’m fine. Just been feeling sick the last few mornings is all.” Nat’s eyebrows furrow at your words. “Y/n could you be pregnant?” Nat joked at you. “Not really helping here.” You mumble. “Y/n/n is it only in the morning or other times of the day?” Her face is sympathetic. “Just in the morning. Why do you ask?” You lean your head against the toilet bowl. “Y/n when was your last period?”

You open your mouth to answer but quickly close it when you think back and realize how late you are. “It’s not possible.” You scramble away from the toilet as you run into your room and open the top drawer of your dresser. Nat is close behind you. “Ok gross didn’t need to see your sex drawer.” Nat grimaces. “Haha, not funny Nat.” You look through the draw and find the two vials. One completely full and the other mostly gone. When you flipped over and read the label.

“Well shit.” You breathe out the realization hits you. “What is it?” Nat asks you. “Wanda used the wrong one.” You turn to face her. “What?” You held up the two vials for Nat to see. One saying that it was fake and the other was the magical sperm for Wanda. “Oh.” Was all Nat could say when she realized what you meant.

You pull out your phone and nervously dial your wife. Hoping that she doesn’t think the worst before you can explain. “Hi baby, do you need something from the store?” Wanda’s voice comes over the phone. “Baby I need you to listen to me before you react ok.” Your voice is laced with anxiety. “Okay.” Wanda says hesitantly. “I need you to grab some pregnancy tests.”

“What they fuck do you mean pregnancy test?” Wanda’s voice is laced with venom. “Baby you said you would listen.” Wanda let out an angry huff. “I’m listening.” You could tell she was gritting her teeth. “You used the wrong one.” You try to explain. “I used the wrong one, right.” Wanda sounded angry, like she didn’t believe you. But before you could answer back you felt another wave of nausea hit you. You threw the phone at Nat as you ran into the bathroom. “Y/n Y/m/n Maximoff, I swear to god you better not – “ Nat cuts Wanda off on the phone. “Y/n would never. Now you need to calm down before you come back here but seriously bring some pregnancy test and maybe some Gatorade.” Nat quickly hangs up the phone as she rushes to your side.

Wanda leaves her cart in the middle of an aisle before running and grabbing some pregnancy test, some Gatorade and a pack of Oreos. She doesn’t want to be mad at you, but her thoughts are racing, not really listening to anything after you said pregnancy test. She checks out the few items before quickly driving home. Once she has gotten home, she rushes upstairs to find you and Nat in the bathroom.

Nat quickly stands placing a hand on Wanda’s shoulder seeing her fuming with rage. You look up with a weak smile, but it drops when you see your wife’s face. Nat grabs the bag and places it next to you as she pushes the angry Sokovian out of the bathroom. “Wanda, you need to calm down.” Nat’s voice raising. “I can’t believe it.” Wanda said her voice was laced with anger. Nat doesn’t want this to escalate; she pulls Wanda towards the dresser, opening the drawer and seeing the two vials you had shown her. She hands them to Wanda. “This is not her fault. If it is anyone's, it is yours.” Nat defended you knowing that you would never betray your wife in that way. Not with the things you have been through and what you two have been through together.

Wanda grips the vials in her hands and looks down at them. She looks at the almost empty one and reads the label. As she does, you're getting up from the toilet and standing in the doorway of your bathroom to your bedroom. “It was that night we got drunk.” Wanda looked up at you. You had a small smile on your face. You push off the doorframe and walk towards Wanda. “You wanted to have a little more fun than just drinking since Nat so kindly took the twins that night. You know how much I love it when you use the fake stuff and decide that night was a great night to use it.” You explained. “And I grabbed the wrong one.” Wanda said lowly looking down at the ground.

You were now in front of Wanda. You placed a finger under her chin and made her look you in the eye.“It was supposed to be your turn this time.” You chuckled. “But how. The doctor said it would almost be impossible.” Wanda’s eyes meeting yours. “Key work almost.” Nat added. Both of you shot her a look before she put her hands up in defense. “I guess you're just that good.” You place your forehead against hers as you look into her eyes.

Wanda smiles softly at you. “So, are we taking those tests or what?” She says as she pulls you back towards the bathroom. You see the bag on the floor and notice the Oreos sticking out. “Aww you remembered.” You can’t help the growing smile. “How could I? You almost killed Tony and Nat for eating the last of your Oreos when you were pregnant with the twins.” She chuckles. “To be fair you don’t mess with a pregnant woman.” You smirk. “I still have the scar from where you stabbed me with the fork.” Nat adds at the end. “I told you not to eat my Oreos.” You give her a quick quip. “And I learned an important lesson.” Nat raises an eyebrow. “Good now move out so I can pee on some sticks.” You pushed Wanda and Nat out of the bathroom.

A few minutes pass as you wait for the test results to be shown on the different pregnancy test that you took. The buzzer on your phone goes off when the results should be back. “I can’t look.” You bury your face into the crock of Wanda’s neck. She wraps her arms around you as one hand rubs up and down your back. “Everything is going to be ok detka.”

Wanda motioned for Nat to look at them as she held onto you. She moves over picking up the first test. The corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. She looks at the next one as the smile spreads across her face. Wanda watches as Nat’s smile grows. “Well, it looks like you’re going to have to deal with another Maximoff running around soon.” Nat said excited for you two. You pull away from Wanda and grab the test out of Nat’s hand seeing a plus on the test.

“We’re having another baby?” You look at Wanda who just shakes her head yes. “Good thing two cause this little one is going to have a best friend.” Your face covered contorts with confusion. “What?” You turn around to face Nat. “Well, the reason I had come over here was to tell the both of you that Maria is pregnant. I wanted to tell you two first, but this makes it all the much better. Our kids can grow up being best friends.” You can’t help it when you burst into tears hearing those words. Both women wrapping you in a hug as your happy tears soak into Nat’s shirt.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #syd speaks #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x r #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader angst

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itgetsdark-x · 1 year

Note

gruff dilf joel and younger snarky reader are sent on a mission out of jackson. they have a rough, long day of constant nitpicking and bitching (done worse by a shared horse). the reader is purposefully pressing his buttons because she wants to make him snap on her. they stop for the night at a safe house with one bed and filthy unprotected sex ensues. joel forces her into submission and her cockiness dissipates. super condescending and demeaning joel. breeding kink, pet names, the works 🙏🏼

A/N: what a return for me… pheewwww, this was hot to write ngl. I loved writing Joel as a bit more of an asshole and I just wanna say, I would do anything for snarky, gruff dilf joel… like literally anything. I hope this is okay for you, anon!

Summary: You were a skilled hunter, everyone in Jackson knew that and it often meant that you were sent out with someone just as skilled but not quite as young, Joel Miller.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m & f receiving), degrading talk (depends on how u look at it), implied age gap (not specified), just a lot of smut and swearing tbh

Characters: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 7.6k (lol, I’m sorry!)

Sunlight seeped through the threadbare curtains of your house, the early morning light drowning your soft skin as you slept peacefully. Three loud bangs drew you from your slumber and you let out a groan as you stretched your limbs out, rubbing the remnants of sleep away from your eyes.

“Get your ass up!” You heard the familiar voice shout from outside and you groaned again, shoving your face into your pillow.

“Fuck off.” You yelled, knowing the older male would be able to hear you through your open window.

“Would if I could.” He retorted. “I’m letting myself in through the back. Hurry up, sick of waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes as you finally sat up in your bed, you heard the male enter your house downstairs and it immediately ignited anger in your bones. You stomped out of bed, grabbing your clothes and begrudgingly dressing yourself.

You gave your appearance a once over in the old mirror that hung pathetically on your walls and sighed at the dark circles under your eyes. After using your bathroom to freshen up, you traipsed down your stairs gruffly and shoved your feet into your worn boots.

“Why are you here at the ass-crack of dawn, Miller?” You hissed, scowling at the male who sat on your old couch, his dirty boots carelessly resting on the coffee table in the middle of your lounge.

“Aren’t you a ray of fuckin’ sunshine this morning.” He huffed. “Got a job to be getting on with, Maria and the guys gave me the instructions that we have to go run off some raiders. There’s a safe house half way that we can stay in tonight. Should be an easy job so long as you listen to me for once and get on with it.”

You groaned, loudly, as you bent down to lace up your boots; your old cargo trousers clung to the curve of your ass and thick, muscular thighs as you did so. Joel stood behind you, he couldn’t help but admire as the old material stretched as you moved.

“Why exactly have I been instructed to work with you?” You shot back, turning to look at the male.

Joel held a hand out as an offer to help you stand, you shot him a sour look, rolled your eyes and stood without a word. Joel clenched his jaw at your defiant behaviour and gently pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Do I look like I know, little girl? Look, I don’t wanna be working with you, just as much as you don’t wanna be working with me. So how about you quit your bitchin’, get the job done and go back to being a sour little brat by yourself.”

“God, I fucking hate you, Joel Miller.” You said harshly, shoving past him and bumping him with your shoulder.

You grabbed your backpack off the floor, it was the one you always used when going on jobs or patrols; it had all your necessities that you kept restocked. You opened your front door, and ushered for Joel to leave your house, he narrowed his eyes at you and walked out. You left behind him and made sure your house was shut up properly before walking down the three steps that lead to your house.

“Where’s the other horse?!” You asked, ludicrously as Joel swung himself onto the large horse.

“Only got allocated one, ‘lotta raiders and people sniffing around Jackson at the moment so they got a lot more patrols going on. Sorry kiddo, either you’re hiking all day or sucking it up and getting on with me.” He shrugged, patting the horse gently.

You sighed deeply to yourself, as if this job or day couldn’t get worse; you had to spend it with Joel Miller on one horse.

You had known Joel for a while now, since your first day in Jackson in fact. Him and Tommy found you stumbling around outside the gates of Jackson, whilst they were out on patrol, they saw you were injured and luckily, the people of Jackson allowed you to take residence within their community.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when this long-standing feud started with the older of the Miller brother’s but it had been going on for sometime. You despised the male, he always acted like he knew what was best when it came to hunting or patrols, whatever he said was the golden way of doing things and it drove you insane. Maybe it was your twisted attraction to the older male that made your stomach twist and settle in deep anger; you hated the way your pulse would race when he was near or the way your eyes would hungrily drink in all the sharp lines of the males features. He was too old to be any good for you, you knew that and maybe, just maybe, that’s why you kept up this pretence of hatred.

Tommy was a stark contrast of his older brother; he had kind eyes and soft features, he actually cared about other people within the community. Joel on the other hand, he just cared about getting the job done and done right first time so he could get back home to Ellie, the kid he had arrived in Jackson with. You didn’t really care to ask how or why but Ellie, for what it seemed, was a cool kid and that you had spoken to a handful of times.

“Your choice but we gotta leave now, it’s a 50 mile ride east to the safe house and I don’t expect it to be an easy one.” Joel stated bluntly.

“Fine. Fucking fine.” You hissed, slinging your backpack onto your back and holding your rifle over your shoulder.

It was a known fact that you were one of the more skilled hunters and fighters in Jackson; you had been fighting for yourself your whole life, you didn’t have anyone to fight for you or to keep you alive so from a very young age, you had to do it yourself with whatever resources you could find. Joel seemed to hate it, he seemed to hate the fact that you were younger than him and seemingly, knew what you were doing.

That’s why you always got paired up together; Joel was skilled but older, you were younger and fitter but still on his skill level at handling your firearms.

You slung yourself onto the horse, holding Joel’s muscular arm for leverage as you steadied yourself on the back of the animal. Your body was pressed tightly to Joel’s, your legs meeting at the front as your torso pressed to his back. He gently kicked the horse and encouraged the animal to move.

You rode in silence through the town and out of the gates of Jackson. You watched your surroundings carefully, keeping an ear out for any nearby movement; you had heard the stories recently of people not making it back from their patrols. The raiders nearby were increasing and they were getting desperate for a fraction of what you all had in Jackson.

The peaceful sounds of nature filled your ears as you rode in silence; just the horses’ hooves on the soft ground and noises of nearby wildlife; birds chirped happily and it almost made you spit out a laugh. Those innocent creatures had no idea of the depressing state that the world lived in now, they couldn’t ever know what loss meant; your mind wandered and you felt the bitter acid of frustration rise in your throat.

“Wanna ease up on your grip?” Joel huffed, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You spat before you realised your hands were gripping tightly at his waist; you eased your grip and kept one hand on him to steady yourself whilst your other hand rested on your thigh. “Sorry.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“What’s causin’ you to have the death-grip on me, anyway? Not normally scared ridin’.” He laughed smugly.

You shrugged, he felt the jolt of your shoulder so he knew what you did without seeing it.

“Natures just… funny.” You laughed sourly. “These birds, chirping away and living their normal lives; they ain’t ever known any different whereas we have, y’know. We’ve all lost something, someone and they don’t know shit. Just makes me angry.”

Your voice trailed off at the end, the images of your parents being taken from you when you were just seven years old played in your head like a worn out cassette. It was painful to constantly think of your mother’s screams as she was torn apart. Or the way your father hid you and told you to remain quiet and that was the last time you saw him.

“Yeah, well, that’s life, kid. It’s shit.” Joel shrugged back.

He never opened up about his loss, about his daughter, he didn’t see the need to. People who were closest to him knew and he remembered the beautiful memories of his daughter, for him, that was enough. He knew the way people whispered about him, he could even see the way some even pointed as he walked by. “There’s Joel Miller, yeah, Tommy’s brother, he’s the one that lost a daughter and turned up with that kid months after Tommy arrived with Maria.”

You didn’t respond to Joel, instead you huffed and went back to taking in your surroundings. You travelled in a, somewhat, comfortable silence for a couple of hours before Joel halted the horse.

“Why are we stopping? We’re in the middle of the Forrest?” You snapped, finger hovering over your trigger as you scoped out the landscape through your weapon’s scope.

“Needa eat, piss and you can take charge on leading the next stretch. Problem with that, little girl?” He snapped right back.

You sighed and reluctantly climbed down off the horse, you took the reins and carefully attached them to a nearby branch so your horse would stay secured whilst you all took a moments rest.

Joel grabbed food out of his pack and chucked a sandwich in your direction, you quickly caught it with one hand and shot the male a cocky smile.

“Gotta be quicker than that, old man.” You smirked.

He rolled his eyes and stretched out his back with a deep groan, he had himself turned away from you as he stretched. You eyes soaked up every inch of the male, from his salt and peppered locks, down to his broad shoulders and down even farther to the subtle curves of his ass and muscular legs. As he stretched a slither of tanned skin was exposed and you mentally cursed yourself for wondering what Joel’s body would feel like under your skilled hands. You couldn’t help as you wondered even further how the male would sound as he came, would it be gruff like his groans as he stretched out his aching limbs or would it sound more tender and soft.

You physically shook your head to rid the mental images that were drowning your mind and you absently took a bite of your food as your eyes still hungrily wandered over Joel’s physique. He turned back to you, catching your eyes and he smirked, knowing full well that he had just caught you checking him out.

“You alright there, darlin’? Lookin’ a bit flustered.” He chuckled, cockiness dripping from his voice.

“Fine. Just thinking about Grayson.” You lied. Grayson was your most recent boyfriend, well, fling. You had both agreed to use each other to scratch the itches that your hands didn’t satisfy anymore; he was fairly well known among Jackson, especially to the women there and you knew Joel hated the younger male.

“Sure.” Joel said, unconvinced but not willing to push the matter any further right now.

An icy silence fell between the two of you once again, you stared at your food and bitterly ate at it. Your eyes trailed up slowly and bored into the older male as he sat down on the ground to eat; your eyes followed the lines of his legs as he sat until they fixated on his bulge. Jackson was small, people talked, women especially talked. Joel wasn’t one to sleep around carelessly but even when the world had ended, everyone has needs and Joel knew how to fulfil them. You knew he had quite the reputation, apparently he had the equipment and he apparently knew exactly how to use it.

You finished your food and threw the wrapper to the side, you stretched your legs out with a delicate groan and leant back onto your arms, taking a moment to relax before you had to be cramped up on the horse again with Joel. Your mind wandered once again as the silence between you both persisted, you wondered how Joel’s rough hands would feel; how they would feel wrapped around your throat as his thick fingers fucked into you. Or how his cock would split you open as he pressed you down roughly to take every inch of him. You swallowed thickly, pushing the thoughts down as you gently squeezed your thighs together, trying anything to curb the throbbing between your legs.

Joel could feel your eyes on him, he could feel the intense stares and he couldn’t help but smirk as he finished up his food; he loved the fact that he could get you all flustered and frustrated by simply just being. It would be a complete lie if Joel hadn’t thought about you in that way but it was a line he hadn’t crossed, mainly because you both couldn’t stop arguing long enough to realise the tension that was thick in the air.

“We should get going.” You said gruffly, your voice shattering the silence abruptly. “Want to get to the safe house to actually sleep properly. Get your ass up, old man.”

“Old man.” Joel tutted, rolling his eyes.

He moaned as he arose from the ground, further cementing your comment on his age. You let out a sharp laugh and shot him a smug look as you slung yourself onto the horse.

“Pass me the reigns.” You said sharply.

“Please?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, thanks. Get on or get left behind.” You muttered.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh and simply passed you the reigns before climbing onto the horse behind you. He shimmed himself into place until he was comfortable, you could feel his thick thighs rub up behind you; you were so close to him now, it felt different than when you were on the back of the horse. You cleared your throat awkwardly and kicked the horse into action.

The soft sounds of the horses hooves in the mud filled your ears as all your brain could focus on was the feel of Joel grinding up behind you with every move of the horse. He kept a hand on your hip for his stability at times when the terrain proved bumpy.

You could feel yourself trying to shift in the saddle, feeling grateful every time you felt the seam of your pants rub against your damp core in just the right way. You bit back frustrated groans and the safe house couldn’t come soon enough, you would wait until Joel would fall into his usual slumber to relieve yourself with your own needy fingers.

The ride was long, excruciatingly so and that was only enhanced further by your own frustrations but Joel assured you that the safe house was just up ahead, only a few more miles. The sun was setting and your surroundings were growing darker by the minute, it was made you nervous but you persevered, not letting any weakness show to the older male.

“What was that?” You muttered, pulling on the horses reigns to halt the animal and you brought your finger up to your lips to hush Joel.

A twig snapped near you and immediately your hand was on your weapon, pulling the pistol from your thigh holster.

“Probably just an animal, keep moving.” Joel barked, annoyed at your paranoia.

“Joel, I’m not a dumb ass, that didn’t sound like an animal.” You snapped back, your voice a harsh whisper.

You sat there, your eyes still scanning the darkening scene as you held your pistol out and aimed.

“Shoulda listened to the little girl, old man.” An unfamiliar voice rang out, a silhouette coming into focus as your finger hovered over your trigger.

“Fuck off, walk away and I won’t shoot your brains out right here.” You spat, pointing the gun in his direction.

The unknown male whistled, the noise echoed throughout and suddenly, four more men came from the shadows; they were all holding various weapons, some with crow bars, some with bats and the leader, with a large knife.

“Oh boys, look at her, such a feisty and pretty little thing.” The male laughed, his voice sent sickening chills down your spine. “Whatcha reckon she’s doing with this old guy? Probably fuckin’ him so he don’t kill her.”

You felt your skin crawl and you shot a look over at Joel, your eyes flickered with panic as they looked back over at the men.

“Let the old man go, take me, I’ll do what you want.” You said quickly, knowing a distraction like that could help.

Joel looked at you ludicrously and as his hand hovered over his knife that was out of sight of the males.

“Whatcha say boys? You reckon we could use the pretty little thing… Depends I guess, how used up are you.” He snarled, the other men with him whistling and laughing as the leader spoke. “Wouldn’t want his,” he shot a look at Joel. “Sloppy seconds, don’t want a used up little whore.”

“I-I’m a virgin!” You lied, lowering your gun and slowly getting off the horse. You threw your gun behind you, away from the men and smiled as sweetly as you could. “I’m fresh, I promise. Not used at all.” You held your hands up in surrender.

The leader closed the space between you, with two large strides and he took a few strands of loose hair so he could twirl them in his fingers. He leant down to close the gap between you further and sniffed deeply. You closed your eyes as you cringed internally.

His fingers gently stroked down your neck and pulled your T-shirt forward so he could peer down your shirt, your stomach flipped with sickness and whilst he was distracted, you landed a hard kick to his groin. He groaned loudly and immediately fell to the floor, you took his knife and without hesitation, plunged it into the side of his neck.

“Fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He spluttered out as the life slowly drained from him.

The other men came lurching forward, immediately springing into action and Joel jumped down from the horse, knife in hand to help fight off the others. One of the men scrambled to pick up your gun, they quickly grabbed it and shot at you as you tried to fight him for it, the bullet missed you but managed to graze your thigh. As the loud bang rang loud in everyone’s ears, Joel was able to injure anotjer enough that the rest all dispersed off into the overgrown trees.

“If I see you again, you’re all fuckin’ dead. Hear me? Dead men fucking walking.” Joel barked as they scampered off, fleeing the scene.

You breathed deeply, holding your thigh as you fell to the floor; the fabric of your pants was ripped where the bullet grazed your skin. The burning was intense and you hissed as you ripped some fabric from your shirt to wrap around your leg.

“Let me.” Joel said, kneeling down to help.

You kicked your leg, pushing the male away from you and you shot him a sour look.

“I’m fucking fine, leave me alone. I’ve got it. Just get us to the safe house.” You hissed again, standing shakily.

You bent down to pick up your gun that had been thrown across the ground and you landed a final kick to the two bodies on the ground before clambering awkwardly onto the horse.

“You’re so stubborn. I’m just trying to help you.” Joel spat, his annoyance evident as he kicked the horse into a fast canter.

“Fuck off, Joel. Just get us there without getting us killed, yeah?”

“What do you think I’m doing?!” He bickered back.

The final stretch of the journey was short, although it felt elongated with the burning in your leg. You arrived at the safe house, looking at the exterior, you should wondered how it could even be classed as a house. It was a sad looking shack, the old and splintered wood of the its exterior looked as if it could give out any second.

“Is there supplies here? Medicines and what not?” You asked as you climbed off the horse, you tied up her reigns and watched as Joel grabbed the bags off the back harness on the horse.

“Should be.” He muttered and led the way, he cautiously opened the building and checked out the surroundings; it was dark now and he quickly flicked on the lantern that was situated inside.

The dull orange glow illuminated the small shack just enough for you to see one old, worse for wear bed in the corner and a small kitchenette area. Joel searched through the cupboards and found bandages and some old disinfectant.

You sat down on the bed with a groan, flexing your leg as you inspected your wound. He tossed the supplies at you and shut up the building, after giving the outside a final inspection of any nearby activity.

You had removed your trousers so you could better dress your dirty wound when Joel walked back in, he was pacing the creaky ground and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“You were fucking stupid back there, with those guys. Could have got yourself killed.” He finally barked.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see you with a better plan.” You snapped back, standing after being satisfied with your handy work.

“Watch your tone with me, kid.” He snarled, getting closer to you.

“Yeah? Or what? Whatcha gonna do, Miller?” You asked, squaring up to the older male. “I saved our ass back there and all because you were too chicken shit to do anything yourself. And I’m not a kid, so you watch your tone.” You accused, your slender finger landing some jabs into his shoulder.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” He bit back as he took your wrist with ease into his large hand and held it roughly.

You winced as he twisted your arm so it was behind yourself now and out of his general area. You took your free hand and shoved the male away from you, he took a couple steps back after stumbling from the force of your shove.

“Fuck off, Joel. You should just be glad I was there to save your sorry, old ass. You wouldn’t have been able to do shit by yourself.” You hissed in agitation and turned your back to the male.

You bent down to rummage through your pack until you found the spare set of pants you carried with yourself; you couldn’t see the way the older male’s eyes were fixated on the curve of your ass in your panties or the way his cock twitched in his own pants.

“Such a brat.” Joel spat. “Such a rude, fuckin’ brat. Someone should teach you some manners.”

You laughed as you stood once more and span to look at the male, your eyes were narrowed and you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah? Someone should teach me some manners?” You laughed and the male nodded, his hands balled into tight fists as his sides. “And who’s gonna do that? You? Like to see you try, old man.” You laughed once more, it was a condescending and loud noise, and it only seemed to anger the male more.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel smirked, voice cold and smug. “You’d be purring in my lap in no time, little girl. I see the way you stare at me, or the way you were rubbin’ yourself on the saddle earlier. Pathetic little girl. Should be taught some manners on how to behave properly.”

You lurched at the male, unable to control your anger anymore and you landed a loud slap to his face.

“You’re such a cunt!” You cursed loudly, shoving past the male.

He caught your wrist once more in a tight grip and pulled you back until you were stood in front of him again.

“You’re only angry because I’ve called you out.” He said calmly, his voice still oozing with condescension.

You opened your mouth to argue, to protest what he was saying but you didn’t have the chance because just as quick as you went to argue, his lips were pressing to yours in a hot and angry kiss. Joel weaved a hand around your throat and gently squeezed it as he kissed you. Your hands pawed at him eagerly, trying to strip any layers of clothing off of him as quick as you could.

He bit at your bottom lip roughly and you whimpered, almost immediately folding for him. The kiss was filled with all the pining that had surrounded you both for months, even when both of you never realised it; it was angry, hot and full of clashing teeth. It summed the two of you up completely. Still, even now, you were both fighting for dominance to command the exchange.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.” Joel whispered against your lips, his hand still wrapped around your throat.

You wanted to protest and tell him to fuck off, you wanted to snipe back and tell him to do the same but the words weren’t forming and they soon died in your mouth; instead, you were sinking to your knees to obediently look up at the male. Slowly, he released the hand from around your throat and smirked down at you.

“Well,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know what to do from here, so fucking do it.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes and you opened your mouth to speak, before a sound could even leave he shot you another look, one that warned you to do other wise and you simply shut up.

You roughly undid his worn trousers, your fingers were trembling slightly and you just prayed that the man above you didn’t notice; you knew you would never live it down. You pulled down the old fabric of his pants and didn’t hesitate to the same with his boxers. His cock sprung upwards, it was hard already and your eyes drank in the curve of his shaft and the way his tip was already leaking a small bead of precum.

You looked up at him with a smirk, it was a smug move and you knew it, clearly he was far more turned on then he cared to admit and that made you feel proud.

“Whatcha waiting for, princess? Need me to spell it out for you?” He asked, holding your chin roughly to maintain eye contact. “Hm? Need me to spell out for you what it is that you need to be doing now? Poor little baby. I’ve heard some good things about this mouth now why don’t you put it to good use for once, rather than your incessant bitchin’.” Joel growled.

“Fuck you. Prick.” You argued weakly before obliging.

Joel still held your chin as he directed your mouth onto his large cock, you opened your mouth wide and slightly stuck out your tongue so his member could slide into the warm crevice with ease. You slowly started to bob your head up and down onto his cock and the male removed the grip from your chin, instead, he wove his thick fingers into your hair; he held on by the roots and tugged roughly to move your head.

“Fuck.” He groaned deeply, his voice sounding, somehow, even gruffer than normal. “That’s it, good girl. Take my cock, I know you can do better than that.”

You couldn’t deny that the way Joel spoke to you drove your crazier than it should have. Your core throbbed at the thought of having the male inside of you and it drove you to bob your head quicker onto his length, eager to earn more praise from him.

“Come on, that’s pathetic, little girl. I know you can do better than that.” He pushed your head down harder causing you to gag around him. Spit collected at the corners of your mouth and started to dribble down your chin has Joel controlled the speed of which your head was moving. “That’s it, god, fuck, wish you could see how pathetic you look right now. Spit dribbling down your chin as you take my cock like a good girl.”

You moaned around the male and fluttered your eyes shut as you concentrated on not choking on your own spit as Joel drove his cock roughly into your mouth until the head was hitting the back of your throat.

Joel roughly pulled your hair until your mouth popped off him, a long string of spittle connected you to his length and he simply looked down at you and barked out a laugh.

“Look at you,” he laughed again and your stomach bubbled with arousal and anger. “Finally being a good girl and listening to me. Maybe that’s what you need all along, isn’t it? Needed to taste my cock and find out what you’d been missing.”

“Asshole.” You hissed after sucking in a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“Hmm? Guess I haven’t managed to teach you any manners just yet, that’s alright baby, they’ll come when you do.” He smirked, taking your throat once more in his hands and pulling you up.

Your jaw tensed as you ground your teeth together.

“You seem angry, princess. Tell me, what’s up?” He cooed, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’re such a prick, thinking you know everything all the fuckin’ time, well you don’t. Just ‘cause I sucked your cock doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” You muttered.

“Oh? It doesn’t? So I’m not in charge? So, if I said, oh I dunno… If you behave and do as you’re told, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want but if you don’t well then… No orgasms for you, princess.” He chuckled, slowly trailing his hand down your arm and across your clothed breasts before he stroked the front of your damp panties. “Your move, baby girl.”

You shivered at his touches, his fingers ghosted over your panties and it took everything within yourself to not grab his hand and just rub up against it like a dog in heat.

“Fuck.” You whispered, closing your eyes in despair. “Fine. Fuck.” You whimpered as Joel passed his fingers over your clothed heat again. “Fine! You’re in charge. Fine. Happy?” You yelled in defeat.

Joel laughed and kicked his boots off to the side so his trousers could follow suit. He peeled his jacket off before removing his old t-shirt, there he was, stood before you and completely naked.

Your eyes roamed the expanse of his naked skin and appreciated every inch; for his age, he was fit and not in a sickly way. He was slim but broad in his shoulders, his arms were thick from handling guns and weapons during fights and his cock, you didn’t want to admit it but you needed more of it.

“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed for me, spread your legs and show me that little cunt of yours.” He whispered in your ear before nudging you in that direction.

You nodded albeit a little dumbly and did as your were told; you removed your ripped T-shirt from over your head and pulled off the old sports bra that contained your breasts, they fell from the fabric and Joel bit back a groan as he took in your body. You stepped out of your panties, and tossed them to the side, a thick damp strip staining the gusset of them.

Joel’s hand pumped his cock slowly as he looked at you, his thumb rubbed the precum over his length and he hissed softly at the sensation. Your eyes were fixed on his as you slowly sank onto the bed, the tired springs beneath you creaked softly and you sat back, with your legs spread wide for the male. He could see your arousal from where he was stood, could see your sticky wetness that coated your slit already.

“Touch yourself.” He commanded and you shook your head, your cheeks flushed in minor embarrassment. “Hm? I don’t recall asking. Fuckin’ touch yourself and show me, show me how you make yourself cum when no one is around.”

Your hands stroked over your breasts, your fingers toyed with your nipples and you whimpered as you gently pinched the buds. You allowed one of your hands to travel lower and finally, dip between your wet folds. You gently sunk a finger into your wet heat and moaned, your head fell back as you pumped your finger slowly inside of yourself. After a few seconds, you added another finger and you whined at the feeling of your walls stretching around your own digits. Your head was still lulled back and soft moans fell from your parted lips, Joel stood above you and pumped his cock as he watched on.

“Look at me, I wanna see that pretty little face of yours as you fuck yourself for me.” He groaned.

You lifted your head and almost instantly your eyes met, you were both fixated on one another’s gaze and it made something deep in your stomach twist and bubble. You knew you were close and you sped your fingers up to draw your orgasm closer.

“Gonna cum.” You whispered, your breaths coming out in short and ragged spurts.

“Ask me.” Joel shot back, speeding his hand up. “Ask for my permission like the good little girl I know you can be.”

“Fuck. Can I — can I cum?”

“Can you cum… what?” He asked.

“Please. Please can I cum. Please, Joel. Fuck. Need it so bad, please.” You whimpered pathetically, your hand working hard.

“Mhm, good girl. That’s it. Fuckin’ look at me as you cum, that’s it. I wanna see your face when you cum. Good fuckin’ girl.” He cursed.

Joel’s praises were all you needed to nudge you over the edge and tumble deep into your intense orgasm, your toes curled and thighs shook as you kept your direct eye contact with the male. Explicit curses fell from your lips like flowing stream and you shook heavily as you slowly started to come down.

“Let me taste you.” Joel whispered, dropping to his knees and pulling you closer, he was careful to avoid your bandaged wound as he did so.

He pulled your fingers from your wet heat and sucked them clean, groaning as he tasted your arousal for the first time.

“So sweet. Tastes so sweet. All for me now, hm?” He asked and you replied silently with a nod of your head.

Joel ducked his head down and without a second’s hesitation, he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth; his tongue lapped at the bud roughly and you all but screamed at him. It was intense, your hand flew to his head to grip harshly at his greying hair and it only caused the male to suckle at your bud harder.

“Fuck. Shit. Fucking Christ, Joel.” You whimpered, your thighs trembling as he forced them open.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. Cum with my mouth on your pretty clit.”

You barely had a second to recover from your orgasm, you barely even came down from it and here Joel was, ripping another out of you almost instantly. If it didn’t feel so good, you would have shot him a snarky comment about it.

Your fingers were shaking as they held onto Joel and your hips ground down to meet the males face harder as he elicited your second orgasm from you. Your hole clenched around air and you whimpered at the feeling of being so empty when all you wanted was to feel Joel’s cock inside of you.

He flicked his tongue over your bud once more for good measure as you rode out your orgasm. Your stomach was heaving with the deep breaths you tried to suck in, your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle Joel fucking you.

“On your knees, ass up and silence from you, I don’t wanna hear you arguing with me.” Joel muttered before he gently spanked your exposed pussy.

You made a small noise, the slap sending ripples through your body. You nodded and scrambled on your shaking legs to get yourself into the position.

Joel roughly manhandled your ass, he groped at the flesh roughly and spread you before he landed his hand down onto the smooth skin in a bruising spank. You let out of a yelp and tried to scarper away from his hands but instead he brought you back roughly and spanked you again but this time you let out a small moan.

Satisfied with the response, Joel took his length and gently pressed the tip of his cock to your eager, wet hole.

You whimpered and gently pushed your hips backwards, trying to encourage the man to hurry up but it only caused him to withdraw more and tut from behind you. You whined and shoved your face into your arms which were resting on the old mattress.

“Tell me how badly you want it, princess. Tell me how bad you’ve wanted my cock all day.” He groaned, rubbing his fat cock head along your slit, letting it nudge at your clit with every pass.

“Fuck you.” You spat out, not wanting to appease the male further.

“I will if you just tell me, come on, sweetheart. Look at you, your needy hole is all but begging for me. I know you want it, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me how badly. Come on.” He cooed.

You groaned and hid your face further into the crook of your arm, no one, not ever, had spoken to you like that during sex or sexual acts and you didn’t want to admit how much it was turning you on. You felt embarrassed at being so exposed to the male behind you and you felt your cheeks burning under his watchful gaze.

“Fuck, Joel. Please.” You whined.

“Please what? Hm? What d’ya want baby? Hm?”

“Joel, I’m not playing. Please. Please fuck me, I’ve wanted it so bad all day, c-couldn’t help but stare at your bulge earlier and imagine what it would feel like in me. Been soaked all day, was gonna wait until you were sleeping so I could rub my pussy and think about it. P-please.” You all but sobbed out, your voice sounded foreign as the words tumbled carelessly from your own lips. “I’m not even joking, if you tease me any more I’ll cum without either of us touching me and that’s just embarrassing for everyone. Please fuck me already, wanna feel your cum dripping out of my hole. Want you to fuck a baby into me.” The last sentence fell from your lips and you immediately wanted to withdraw. “I-I mean, I just. Fuck. Sorry. I’m just really turned on and I didn’t mean—.”

Joel didn’t give any more warning, he bottomed out into you with a deep groan and your fingers gripped at the sorry sheets beneath you both.

“Fuckin’ hell, princess. So tight for me. You want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm? Wanna see if I can get you pregnant, huh? Bet you’d like that, filthy little slut.” Joel snarled, his hips pushing against your ass hard enough to leave marks.

He was relentless with his pace, his thick cock drilled in and out of your tight hole and you felt drunk, felt drunk on the high of your previous orgasms and felt drunk on the older male’s cock.

You couldn’t help but squirm under Joel, his strong hands held you in place to ensure you didn’t move too much.

“C’mon baby girl, quit your squirmin’ for me… gotta keep nice and still whilst I fuck my cum into you. Gotta make sure it gets nice and deep.” He groaned.

You clenched around the male as he spoke, his words causing your walls to flutter around him and you moaned softly, your head still buried deep into your own arm. Your fingers were still gripping at the sheets for dear life as Joel fucked into you, his own fingers gripped roughly at the soft flesh of your hips.

“J-Joel…” you whimpered weakly. “Please can I cum again? P-please.”

Joel smiled from behind you and released on of his hands so he could intertwine it into your messy hair; he pressed your face into the mattress below you and rolled his hips rhythmically. You whimpered under the pressure of the man and felt yourself fluttering around him, knowing that another orgasm was impending imminently.

“Mhm, wanna feel your pretty little pussy cum on my cock. That’s it, atta girl. Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Taking me so well. Mmm, so proud of you, good baby.” He cooed, pulling his cock out to rub up against your clit.

Your legs shook once more, the new sensation against your swollen clit driving you mad. He took his cock and roughly pressed it back into your wet heat and you groaned under him. You slid a hand under your bodies so your fingers could rub eagerly at your own clit, Joel noticed it and pressed your face hard into the rough fabric underneath you.

Your fingers circled your clit and within seconds you were falling apart at the seams, you came around the male and your walls sucked him in deeper as you did so.

His name fell from your lips like a spoken curse as you fell apart, your weak body collapsed as your orgasm ripped every shroud of energy you had left in you. Joel didn’t seem to mind, he more felt a sense of pride that he had this effect on you.

He took both of your hips into his hands once more and sped his hips up, hungrily chasing his own high.

“Such a good little pet for me, so beautiful when you’re fucked out. So obedient for me. Fuck. So good. Should fuck my seed into you so we can see you get all full and round, let everyone know in Jackson who you belong to. Eh? You like that?” Joel mumbled, his words barely stringing a sentence together between his ragged breaths.

You nodded under the male eagerly and moaned weakly. Joel chuckled as he looked at your spent face and you clenched around him once again, that was all he needed and he was tumbling into his own orgasm. Joel bottomed himself out and held himself there, anchoring himself to you by your hips as you felt the first hot spurts of his cum coat your insides. You whined at the sensation of being so full of the male.

“Fuck…” you whispered.

Joel laughed gruffly as he collapsed on top of you, he barely held his weight up as he tried to suck down some deep breaths. After a few seconds, Joel finally built up the courage to collapse onto the sorry mattress next to you. The springs creaked loudly as he did so and you rolled onto your back with a wince, you knew you would be sore tomorrow for more than one reason.

“Fuck!” You repeated, your mind slowly coming to terms with what just happened.

“Not so cocky anymore, are you?” Joel laughed, leaning up on his elbows to peer down at you.

“And yet, you’re still an asshole? Unbelievable.” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“I prefer the term, consistent, darlin’.” He shot back, smugly before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Joel got off the bed with a groan and quickly threw his clothes back on.

“Take the first sleep, I’ll keep watch. Tomorrow we’ll go find those fuckers from today and make sure they don’t get anywhere near you again.” Joel said, softer this time.

“You take the first sleep, y’always fall asleep on watch anyway. Old man. Can’t imagine how tired you are after fuckin’ that hard.” You teased back.

“For once, just for once could you just listen to me and do as I say?” Joel huffed.

“I just did… dunno if you remember? Your cock was inside of me? Pretty good. That’s all you’re gettin’ from me.”

“Only pretty good? Huh…” Joel mumbled as he watched you dress yourself. “Guess I should give it another go and see if I can improve my score… and your manners since you seem to have forgotten them real quick.”

“Guess you should.” You replied quickly with a smirk.

“Such a bitch.” Joel shook his head with a fond smile this time and quickly closed the distance between you both again.

“Such an asshole.” You laughed and latched your lips onto his with a grin spread across your features.

Maybe working with the older Miller again wouldn’t be the worse thing in the world, not anymore, anyway.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader

2K notes · View notes

mariposa-drowned · 1 year

Text

Hear me out, Ellie x pregnant reader doing the trend where you lift up your s/o belly to relieve the weight and then having a lil heart to heart bc you just feel so useless due to said pregnancy

Ellie was currently scrolling tiktok as you sat on the couch together, your attention being taken up by whatever show you had thrown on TV, not even noticing the sound coming from Ellie's phone, you were so used to her needing multiple different forms of entertainment at the same time that it barley even phased you anymore.

You were eight months pregnant and ready for this baby to be out. You're tired all the time and can't stand for too long without discomfort, which made you feel useless. No matter how much Ellie assured you she was completely fine with taking over daily tasks, even having Joel over sometimes to entertain you while she worked on stuff, or the other way around. Tommy had even been over a few times with Maria as she tried to offer you tips and tricks on how to deal with the discomfort.

Ellie felt terrible that she couldn't do more for you. Besides massages and the occasional sex that you swore helped; Ellie was always looking for ways to help. Which is why when a video popped up of a man getting behind his wife to lift her pregnant belly for a few seconds, Ellie was immediately ushering you up, hoping that you would get the same relief that the girl in the video seemed to get.

"Ellie what the hell are you doing"

"just trust me babe this is gonna feel great"

"don't kill me please. Or the baby"

Ellie rolled her eyes, positioning herself behind you, her long arms coming to intertwine right below your bump.

"kay take a deep breath"

You huffed but did as told. Then a sudden rush of incredible relief filling you as Ellie lifted your bump up you groaned, your hand reaching behind you to entangle itself in Ellie's hair.

"hooolyyy fuck Ellie"

"yeah? That feel good mama?"

"ohmygod can we just stay here for a minute please"

"as long as you need babe"

You were practically on the verge of tears from the relief you were currently feeling, you hand gripping a bit harder where it was entangled in Ellie's hair. She noticed your teary eyes, quickly becoming concerned.

"hey what's wrong am I hurting you?" She worried as she slowly started to drop your belly.

"don't you dare drop your hands Ellie Williams"

You immediately gripped her hand with a force she didn't even know you possessed.

Ellie immediately reassumed her position "christ babe sorry, was just a bit worried when my wife starts crying"

"just feels really fuckin good els" you stated with watery eyes

"hey hey don't cry mama, it's alright I'll do this whenever you need until they're here babe. It's alright"

"m'sorry just feels s'nice, I just feel so useless because I'm so uncomfortable all the time n I can't do anything"

Ellies heart broke a little at your confession "don't be sorry at all, you hear me?" C'mon let's go sit for a minute, I promise I'll do this again later, jus' wanna talk to you"

You leaned your head back to try and meet her eyes, your vision still a bit blurred

"pinky swear?"

"cross my heart babe. C'mon I'm gonna start lowerin my hands now"

You tried to keep her there as long as you could, but inevitably Ellie's hands left their place under your stomach. You sighed as she started to lead you to the couch. She plopped down, spreading her legs and ushering you in-between them to which you promptly did, getting as comfortable as you could in-between her legs.

Ellie grabbed one of your hands, the other resting on your bulging stomach tracing small shapes.

"I need you to listen to me for a minute babe"

You tilted you head back to lean on your shoulder semi-looking at her while humming a small mhm

"I love you. So much. But you need to understand that you are actively making a living being in you right now. You are allowed to be sick and tired and uncomfortable, it's expected. But you need to understand that we are in this together. I will always be here, I want to be here for you, which means that if you can't do something, I pull my weight here. That's my job mama, I gotta take care of you and little bean" Ellie smiled through her last sentence, looking down to meet your smiling face aswell

"I love you els. Thank you, for everything"

"always and forever babe"

"always and forever" you smiled back at her, leaning up to give a peck on Ellie's lips.

763 notes · View notes

imtryingbuck · 8 months

Text

Eleven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 2,511

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names, nothing to major I don’t think.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“I would like to adopt her”

~~~

It’s been nearly four years since Y/n was adopted by Howard and his wife Maria at first she was confused about what was happening when she had to leave Bucky’s home and go with Howard.

The couple already had a son named Tony who was ten at the time, at first he was distant with her until he heard crying during the night, he listened out to see if his mother or father would go and check on her upon hearing nothing more other than her whimpers he climbed out of his bed and made his way into her room.

“It’s okay you’re having a bad dream. Wake up Y/n.” He stayed with her until she fell back to sleep, softly stroking her hair as he read her the bed time story his mother was reading to her earlier that night.

Tony grew to be overprotective of his little sister.

He didn’t care about starting fights when he heard she was being bullied at school, glaring at those who stared at bit to long for his liking. Though he would never admit to it but he was actually jealous of Y/n’s friendship with Bucky and Steve, especially with Bucky.

Her first Christmas spent with the Starks was magical to her; the huge Christmas tree, the pretty lights, the food and the presents. So, so many presents.

As the years passed Howard and Maria watched proudly as Y/n came more and more out of her shell, became independent. They found out that she was quite a cheeky little girl cheeky monkey Howard called her, she would always stick her tongue out at him after he called her that. Maria loved it when Y/n would sit in between her legs and toss her hair back a silent way of asking her to play with her hair. They loved her equally as much as they loved Tony.

“Ducky get back here!” She screamed.

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to hit me!”

“No I’m not I promise” liar liar pants on fire she sang to herself.

Bucky stopped running slowly turning to face her with his eyes squinting. “Bunny I told you I know when your lying”

“Ducky.” Her hands going to her hips as she cocks her hip to the side just like she had seen her momma do “I’m not lying I swear it, just come here”

“Say please”

“Please”

“Say Bucky’s amazing”

“Bucky’s amazing”

“Now say I love Bucky so so so much”

“Eww I’m not saying that!”

“Then I won’t come to yo-“

“I love Bucky so so so much. Happy?”

“Yep” Bucky grinned as he walked over stopping in front of her “ow ow, Bunny stop! You said you wouldn’t hit me!” He cries out.

“You. Pushed. Me. Over. In. The. Mud!” She says smacking him.

“It was funny”

“Was not! Now I’m dirty and momma won’t like it”

“Aww. But it was funny though you have to admit”

It…it kind of was.

“It’s not funny and you have no right in touching her” Tony says loudly walking over from where he was sitting.

“I-I…we were just playing”

“We were just playing” Tony mocks “you could have really hurt her”

“I would never hurt Bunny”

“Her names Y/n. Repeat after me Y/n”

“I know what her name is Tony”

“Well stop calling her that ridiculous name-“

“Hey! I like when he calls me Bunny, Tone why are you being mean for?”

“He should be hanging out with kids his own age”

“I’m a year older than her…”

Tony stands there and raises an eyebrow, glancing around the yard he pulls out a cigarette out of its packet “I don’t care stop hanging around my sister”

“You’re not allowed to smoke! Momma said it’s bad”

“Like I care! You” he points at Bucky “don’t talk to my sister ever aga-“

“Shut up Tony, he’s my friend”

“You’ll stay away from him Y/n/n”

Making a show of herself getting closer to Bucky she took his hand in hers “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

“Listen here you little brat you’ll do as-“

“Ducky…”

“Yeah”

“Run!”

“Get back here Y/n!”

Hand in hand they take off running back into the house with Tony close behind them.

“Woah woah slow down kiddo’s”

“Sorry Mr George”

“Sorry dad” they call out at the same time.

“Momma, momma Tony smoking again!”

“What?”

“Me and Ducky was playing outside and Tony said the Ducky can’t call me Bunny anymore or be my friend anymore and he pulled out that white stick that he’s not allowed to have” she breathes out, slightly out of breath from her running.

“Ma…she’s lying” Tony speaks hesitantly as his mother glares at him.

“No she’s not!” Bucky’s quick to defend Bunny.

“Y/n sweetie why don’t you and James go back outside and carry on playing, I’ll call you in when lunch is ready” Maria says softy yet leaving no room to argue.

“Bu-Y/n I’m really sorry for pushing you over, I-I was just playing” Bucky says once they’re back outside.

“What did you just call me?”

“Y/n…”

“No no no I’m Bunny to you”

“But Tony said-“

“Ignore Tony! Please Ducky”

“Okay”

“What’s my name?”

“Miss poo poo pants” he grinned.

Y/n loved going to school even though she had no friends and was bullied quite often. She tried desperately to make friends just like Maria told her to do but none of the other kids wanted to be friends with her.

She was that one kid who was always alone and sometimes often seen talking to herself, she would run from one class to the next just so she wasn’t late and ate her food in the bathroom.

Despite always being alone she loved school.

One time Maria made her go to a sleepover that she wasn’t invited too, Maria spoke with the girls mom and that Friday night she was taken to the house for this sleepover.

It was a nightmare.

The other girls didn’t speak to her, they didn’t let her join in the fun activities. When it was time to sleep she settled down in her sleeping bag and feel asleep, waiting for the morning to come so she could leave.

When she woke her heart broke.

They had cut all her hair off.

“W-why di-did you do t-t-this?” She stuttered out, gripping the pile of hair they had cut off.

“It’s funny” one of the girls giggled.

Y/n grabbed her things and ran out of the room and down the stairs passing the mom on her way out, missing the grin on the woman’s face. She sat outside the home waiting for her momma to pick her up, tears streaming heavily down her face.

“Y/n? What-“

“T-they cut my hair off momma”

“Sweet baby come here”

Y/n climbed into Maria’s arms clinging on for dear life. Her hair was so long and curly and she loved it, it now came to her shoulders and was cut messily.

“I’ll get my friend to do it properly, okay? She’ll make it look nice and we’ll get ice cream afterwards yeah?”

“M-my hair momma”

“I know baby, it’ll grow back I promise”

Maria’s friend did in fact make her hair nicer but the problem was that it was now a little bit shorter than what the mean girls did. Y/n shook her head at the opportunity to get ice cream, all she wanted to do was go home and get into bed.

“What happened angel?” Howard asked when he came out of his office - the one place Y/n wasn’t allowed to explore - concerned and shocked at seeing his daughter red eyed and short hair.

“They cut my hair off because it was funny”

“Did you want them too?”

“No dada I was asleep”

“Oh angel.” He kneels down in front of her, his hands cold as he presses them on both sides of her head. “You still look very pretty”

“But my hair looks stupid”

“It doesn’t look stupid darling”

“It does!”

“No it doesn’t. Don’t try and argue back missy. I wouldn’t lie to you Y/n you know this”

“Sorry dada, can I go to bed please?”

“It’s okay and you can, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready okay”

“Okay” she rushes off upstairs and to her bedroom, climbing into her bed she laid there and with shaky hands she ran her fingers through her hair. Crying as she dreads Bucky’s reaction, knowing he loves her long hair.

Bucky walked into Howard’s house with Steve next to him, wondering where Bunny was.

“She’s in the backyard boys“

“Thanks Miss Maria” they call over their shoulders already making their way outside.

“Hi Bunny”

“Hi Ducky, hi Steve”

“Why do you look sad?” Steve says after he said his greeting.

“Why are you wearing your hood up?” Bucky then questions.

“Please please please don’t be mad”

“Why would I be mad Bun?”

“Because-“ her hands move towards the hood and slowly pulled it down, eyes casted downwards. “-of this”

“Bun…” Bucky gasped with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sorry” she cries.

“You had your hair cut?”

“I didn’t want to I swear!”

“Why did you let your ma do it then?”

“I didn’t, she didn’t, I was at a sleepover and the girls did it. They cut my hair wh-when I was asleep Ducky”

Bucky moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her as she cried. “It’s okay Bunny, it looks nice. Doesn’t it Stevie”

“Super nice” Steve agrees.

“It looks stupid!”

“It doesn’t”

After pulling away Bucky wiped the tears away and frowned, he always hated seeing her cry because he didn’t know what to do to make the tears stop from falling.

“Do you want to carry on playing fairies?” He asked knowing that she loved playing that game.

“Okay”

They played for hours, Bucky missing the way her hair flowed behind her as she ran. Missing the way it would always tangle itself around her body.

He didn’t know these girls who did this to his Bunny but he hated them.

“Bunny guess what?”

Lifting her head off the ground she looked over at him “what?”

“It’s nearly Christmas”

“I know, I’ve been good this year have you?”

“Of course. What do you think Santa will bring you?”

“A pony”

“A pony? How will Santa be able to put a pony on his sled Bun?”

“Magic” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Magic?”

“Yep, what do you think Santa will be bringing you?”

“A bike”

“You already have one…”

“I know but I want a new one”

“Oh. Well I’ll be getting a pony and you’ll be getting a bike because we’ve been really good this year”

“That’s true”

They both lay back down and carry on watching the fluffy clouds go past. Y/n really hoped that she was getting a pony whilst Bucky was also hoping the same thing for her.

“Duck”

“Bun”

“Will you be spending Christmas with us again?”

“I’m not sure why?”

“I want you to”

“Why?”

“Because your smelly”

“That makes no sense”

“You don’t make no sense”

They fall back into silence as the clouds go by.

“Bun”

“Duck”

“We’ll be friends forever won’t we?”

“Of course”

“Good, that’s good”

Silence takes over once again.

“Duck”

“Bun”

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Good, that’s good”

Silence takes over once…again.

“Bun”

“Duck”

“My ma’s having a baby”

“What?”

“Yeah she’s having a baby”

“I want one”

“You can’t”

“Why not?”

“Your not married”

“Oh. Well can you marry me?”

“Why?”

“So I can have a baby”

“Okay”

“So…are we married now?”

“Yeah I think so”

“Good, that’s good”

“Should we tell our parents?”

“Okay”

Bucky stands up first and hold his hand out for her to take, hand in hand they head inside to where their parents were talking.

“Ma dad uncle Howard and Aunt Maria me and Bunny have to tell you something” Bucky starts, gaining the attention of all four adults.

“What is it son?”

“We’re married” Y/n beams.

“Oh really? Since when?” Howard chuckles.

“We were outside and Bunny asked me if we could get married so we did” Bucky continues.

“Why did you want to marry Bucky darling?”

“So I can have a baby” looking at Winnie and Maria who start to choke on their drinks.

“Do you know where babies come from?” George says as he pats Winnie on her back.

“The belly” the two kids reply in unison.

“Do you know how the baby gets there?”

“No…”

“You’ll have to kiss each other” Howard says.

“I have to kiss Bunny?”

“I have to kiss Ducky?”

All four adults stifle their laughter as the kids pull away from each other pulling disgusting faces.

“Eww I’m not kissing him!”

“I’m not kissing her!”

“That’s how babies get in the woman’s belly” George chuckles.

“I don’t want to be married to you anymore Ducky”

“Good I don’t want to be married to you either”

“Look Bunny I got a new bike!” Bucky says as he speeds past her on his new bike.

“That’s so cool can I ride it?”

“Okay but you have to be careful I don’t want you falling off like last time”

Bucky hops off the bike and waits for Y/n to come over and helps her get onto the bike. He holds on until she’s gotten the hang off it.

“I’m riding it Ducky! Look” she squeals.

“I’m looking, I’m proud of you Bun” just as he says them words she starts to wobble and falls off. “Bunny! Christ Bun are you okay?”

“I broke your bike Ducky I’m so sorry” she cries as she clutches her knee closer to her chest.

“I don’t care about that, are you hurt?”

“My knee. Ducky I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay-that’s a lot of blood” he pales at the heavy flow of blood streaming from her injured knee.

“Is-is it going to fall off?”

“No, well it shouldn’t do.”

Lifting her up he helps her walk in to the house, he calls out for Maria who comes rushing over and paling when she sees the blood flowing down her daughters leg, picking her up she rushes her into the bathroom where she can clean up the wound.

Bucky felt really bad for her falling off his bike especially since this time she had hurt herself, last time it happened luckily she fell off and landed on grass, the only injuries that was done was to her dress.

Watching as she limped out of the bathroom he rushed over giving her his arm to lean on.

“I’m really sorry Bunny”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I broke your bike”

“It’s not broken don’t worry”

During dinner Bucky asks Y/n if she had gotten a pony from Santa, shaking her head sadly she carried on eating.

“When I’m older I’ll buy you a pony” he promises smiling when she smiles up at him.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel fic #Bucky Barnes series #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #James Barnes #james barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes female reader #bucky barnes friends to lovers

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pedgito · 10 months

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𝐒𝐎��𝐓 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | a joel miller x reader oneshot

summary: this is based around work song by hozier, felt a deep need to write some joel miller comfort stuff. listen to the song if you fancy, it really helps, i swear. this is just a lot of angst, fluff, and longing wrapped into a 5k fic i wrote out a couple weeks ago out of missing writing and joel miller.

word count & warnings: 5k | 18+, fem!reader, mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it's just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

It’s like an atom bomb uprooting your world with the heavy rasps of a hand against solid wood, sending a sharp buzz of electricity down your spine as you shoot up from your position on the couch, nearly tripping over Ellie on the way. The remnants of a night spent like a teen, enjoying a sleepover with the young girl who had a lot to talk about. You knew enough about Savage Starlight that you were practically an aficionado now, but that didn’t matter.

Ellie only stirs slightly, turning on her side on the cushion of her make-shift pallet and you open the front door slowly despite your rapidly beating heart.

Joel never knocked, never really announced himself. He would come in quiet, quick, and busy himself upstairs. You knew that because he usually found you in his bed, waiting for him.

Tonight was a little different.

No grave can hold my body down,

I'll crawl home to her

You world spins as you see what’s on the other side, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you see him.

Joel. But he wasn’t alone.

“Maria—“ It’s laced with too many emotions, too many meanings. You shift your gaze between the two.

“Everyone—“ Maria has to force herself to take a deep breath, a careful hand on Joel’s arm as she forces him to take a step forward, “everyone is fine.”

“Maria, he’s covered in blood.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

It was crusted and oxidized down, sticking to his skin and covering him like something out of a horror movie. He wasn’t shaking, that was the first thing you noticed. Joel was unnaturally still. Frozen.

“Do you have him?” Maria asks, only expecting one answer. “I’ve gotta tend to Tommy and he’s not telling me a damn thing.”

“Is he hurt?” Your brow furrowed in concern, but Maria doesn’t elaborate at all. You reach for Joel silently, his skin icey to the touch, the rigid, cold weather partially to blame.

“He’ll be alright.” Maria assures you with a nod and she’s gone without another word, leaving you to stare at the shell of a man before you, his eyes boring into the ground, staring at the scuffed up material of his boots, not a word to be spoken. Not even so much as a breath.

“Is he in shock?” Ellie’s less than chipper voice speaks from behind you, forcing your heart to kickstart again.

“Um, I don’t—know…” You pull him inside gently, which he doesn’t fight, but he feels lifeless, “has he—have you seen him like this before?”

“Never.” Her eyes well with silent tears and you quickly shoo her away. Ellie almost seems thankful. Joel can’t admit it to himself but Ellie knows.

You care.

“Go upstairs and get some sleep, Ellie.” You assure her, “I can handle it.”

The walk to Joel’s bedroom feels miles away. Joel shows no signs of life still, as you drag him inside of his room and shut the door with a soft click.

“You need to shower.”

Joel knows this, he can smell it on him.

The smell of death.

You smell it too, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

“Joel,” You speak softly, invading his line of sight, a gentle touch against rough skin, his scruff a few days grown and there’s a small twitch as your warm hand makes contact, “are you here?”

His nod is a sigh of relief, a weight off your chest.

“Okay—okay, that’s good,” You keep your voice low, like a secret between the both of you, “do you need my help?”

Joel shakes his head weakly, pulling at the buttons of his thick coat, realizing slowly that it was just as bloodied as the rest of him. He wants it off. All of it. Now.

“Are you going to fight me if I try to help?” It’s lighthearted, but you can see how deeply it digs at Joel, like a fresh wound. “Sorry—I just, I want to help. Okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push your hands away when they reach forward and take the coat from his hands. You toss it in a nearby corner, out of sight and out of mind.

You could handle it later, get rid of the mess so Joel wouldn’t have to bother with it.

He toes off his boots after tugging at the laces, delicate fingertips tracing down his chest as you unbutton his flannel, forcing it down his shoulders. It takes a moment, but eventually he’s down to his boxers and tattered white undershirt, barefoot on the hardwood floor.

And he stops, leaning into you, pressing his forehead against your own in a silent bid of thankfulness, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.

Joel showers alone, eerily quiet. You get rid of the clothes, bringing them out to the garage to deal with in the morning.

Joel is already in the bed by the time you make it back to his bedroom, but if he was actually asleep was yet to be discovered, the nightmare replaying behind his eyelids unbeknownst to you.

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Joel wasn’t supposed to come back until later in the evening that day, well after work was wrapped up for the day and everyone was already tucked into bed. You found yourself in Joel’s bed most nights now, off and on for the first few months but now, almost a year into…whatever this was, it was a weekly thing, as often as Joel wasn’t out on patrol.

There was never an agreement about what this was either, not that there needed to be. But, the unspoken rule was to keep your problems away–the anger, the fear, the suppressed feelings you both have tried to keep at bay for weeks now. Joel only mildly complains about things around Jackson, but never about his life before, how he feels now, or how his pseudo-daughter seeks out comfort in your presence when Joel isn’t around.

Joel hasn’t stirred for hours, or so it feels. The night sky fades away into early morning, the tiniest amount of dawn peeking through his window and bathing him in a shadow of blue. The crinkle of sheets pulls your attention toward his face, your body heats like a furnace as it slid near, hoping that even in his slumber he might draw closer. There’s a brief moment where you think he might wake, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer. Nuzzles.

You’ll take it.

He moves silently, letting you hold him. An arm slipped under his head, a leg slipped between his own thighs and his hands found their way around your middle and you sigh, a deep breath through your nose that does nothing to calm your worrying, aching heart.

If he wanted to talk about it, he would. That’s all you can hope for.

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

Joel is edging on delirious. The adrenaline was beginning to wane and he kept seeing things in faint recollection. The faces of the couple that had snuck into the cabin he and Tommy were patrolling last night, the fear on his brother’s face–something he hasn’t seen from Tommy since they were teenagers. They’re battle-hardened warriors, attack first and ask questions later. His brother was helpless then and if it weren’t for Joel’s terrible bout of insomnia—he couldn’t think about it.

He feels everything finally caught up to him, the physical exertion, the mental toll, he’s never slept so easily in his life and he feels terrible about it. He feels terrible about bringing this on you, forcing you to help piece him back together and keep him from falling apart.

Joel is a man, solid and steel-like in his ways but he’s not invulnerable to emotion. He feels it creeping in as he blinks his tired eyes open, the flutter in his chest growing strong when he feels you wrapped around him and his own limbs just the same.

He could’ve swore you left. The look on your face, of pure terror and disgust as he poured his heart out to you, but Joel quickly realizes that was only a dream, something his mind cooked up in the haze of hysteria.

“Is Tommy hurt?” You ask with a timidness he’s not used to, your fingers massaging at the base of his neck, twirling a curl of his hair around your finger idly, “Maria...didn’t say, she looked exhausted.”

We don’t talk about these things.

We don’t talk.

We don’t.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what happened,” You assure him like he’d spoked aloud, “Just…even a nod, Joel. Anything.”

Joel waits too long, to the point where you think he’s fallen back asleep. But eventually, he shakes his head. You relax briefly. No, he wasn’t hurt.

But, that doesn’t explain the blood.

As much as you wanted to know, it wasn’t your place to ask.

She never asked me once

about the wrong I did

Joel doesn’t understand why he feels drawn to you, so eager to have you here, home. You had your own place, your own things, but when you were here it almost felt normal. Real. He’s dragged this out for months, avoiding the looks you give him when things get a little too intense and he pulls away.

Ellie calls him an idiot every month that passes, knowing how good it is to have you around.

“Jesus, Joel—you can’t really be that oblivious.”

Joel forces Ellie to drop it.

But, not before she mumbles the word under her breath.

There’s a soft sob that racks your body as Joel stirs, crying silently above him with worry. You weren’t as great at burying those emotions as him, unfortunately.

Because, for tonight, well—it was almost too much to process.

“I took care of it,” Joel speaks through his gruff, sleep-filled voice, “Tommy’s fine.”

It? Took care of it? Come on, Joel.

“It was a couple. Hunters. They were from the west.”

You stay silently, scared that speaking might startle him too. You didn’t want to steal the chance of knowing, understanding.

“I handled it.” The emphasis around the word is enough to make you understand.

He killed them. There was no way around that.

“I’ve never…” The quiver in Joel’s voice is apparent, no matter how hard he tries to mask it, “I’ve felt a lot of things. Anger, betrayal, but that fear—”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling Joel closer into the space you shared.

“They had their hands around him,” Joel explains slowly, like he’s trying and failing to relive that sight in his mind, “my damn hearing, old fucking age—another minute and things would’ve been a hell of a lot different.”

“But, you took care of it.” You affirmed him and his hands tightened against your skin. “Seem pretty damn capable to me.”

“Fuckin’ cowards.” Joel spits out, “We were sleepin’ and they tried to get the jump on us.”

“It’s alright, though—Tommy’s okay, you’re…okay,” You hesitate, a quiver of a breath from Joel ghosts over your chest, his tired eyes peering into yours, “You’re okay, right?”

“Always am,” Joel assures you with a low, soft response, “had so much on mind, though, ya’ know?”

“Well, yeah—”

Joel shakes his head, cuts you off for a brief moment. You don’t really mind, talking felt too draining right now.

“Ellie’s still learnin’, she can’t even go out on patrol by herself. Tommy and Maria have the baby now.” Joel’s fingers squeeze again, a nervous tic he’s picked up when he’s got himself wrapped around you, the urge to say things he wishes he could but can’t. You’re begging for it now, wondering if this was the moment. “I couldn’t live with myself if things went the other way.”

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

Joel was a killer. Is. But, with good intentions. Not that it was needed anymore.

Survival, family, protection. He’s killed for the wrong reasons and the good ones, but it’s never been something you’ve judged him on. You never even questioned it. You accepted it, moved on, and treated him like everyone else. But, of course, there was a tinge of sweetness that creeped in, got him all caught and wound up in your web.

“Did she give you any trouble last night?” It’s a quick turn from the heavy conversation you were having, but it isn’t lost on you. He’s silently asking things to shift to something else.

“No more than the usual,” You shrug, talking softly in the early morning ambience, wind howling outside his bedroom window, a storm brewing on the horizon, “I don’t think it’s me that you should be worried about her giving trouble anyways.”

He would be stuck here in Jackson for a few days. You’ve never been more thankful for shitty weather in a goddamn apocalypse.

“That kid loves you.” Joel comments fondly, and I do too.

“Only because I help her and Dina sneak out during town movie nights,” You admit, glancing away sheepishly, “she really worries about you.”

Joel nods knowingly, his usual scowl returning to his face. You reach forward, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone—in this light he looks fine, untouched and perfect, but he winced at the contact. He’s a tough man, but he’s not invincible.

The touch of his fingers as they wrap around your palm are instinctive, he’s careful that he doesn’t startle you by the quick action, but it’s almost like he’s being shocked and brought back to hours before, the one hit they managed to land on him.

You’ve seen a few of Joel’s violent outbursts, yelling matches upon yelling matches with Tommy but it’s never been directed at you. You retract slightly, fingers curling over the top of his own.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, “I didn’t realize—“

“I would never hurt you.” Joel says adamantly, but you can’t help but feel puzzled. “I’m not a monster.”

That idea never crossed your mind.

“Defending yourself doesn’t make you a monster, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t know why he feels the need for validation.

“Maria—she thought I,” Joel laughs sadly, a huff of air that borders on defeat, “Tommy was hitchin’ the horses up and she saw me first, without him and she thought I left him behind. That I sacrificed my own damn brother to save my ass.”

Maria had never been fond of Joel, that much was always apparent, even from the moment you met. She tolerated him because he was Tommy’s brother but that was all. There was no way around it.

“I’ve done plenty of shit to cement my place in hell somewhere, and so has Maria,” You tell him, “Doesn’t matter what she thinks, Tommy knows you would never do that.”

Joel squeezes your waist tighter, the soft skin molding under his calloused fingertips, “You’re too damn good to me.”

The kissing starts slowly, a soft caress as Joel moves in closer, and doesn’t even try—he waits for you, teasing you with a touch until you can’t fight anymore and you press your lips against his gently. It’s the first time in the last several hours that Joel doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, barely skimming the surface to keep himself afloat.

He feels horrible, using you like this—coping with things by stowing them away and surrounding himself with you in a hope that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions, that he would have to explain his actions or justify them. But, you taste too damn sweet under his tongue and he prods until you let him in, a small sigh leaving your mouth as your lips part.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He swears like a symphony, sounding more devious than it should as it leaves his lips, “Can’t keep at this, not with Ellie upstairs.”

“Joel, she’s not here.” It’s not so obvious to Joel, who’s just about as oblivious to every teen antic thrown his way. “She’s out with Dina, probably. That’s usually where she goes when she’s upset.”

Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I heard her moving around when you were asleep,” You explain quietly, jostling your head slightly on the pillow until Joel’s situated over you slightly, his head resting in the palm of his hand that held him upright, “it’ll do you some good to talk to her in the morning.”

Joel nods knowingly, half-smiling as he pushes your hair behind your ear, his thumb finding the sensitive dip behind your lobe and rubbing until you couldn’t hold your laughter in, letting it bubble out weakly before falling silent, a soft, but serious look growing across your features.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” You tell him, “please.”

“C’mere,” Joel nudges his chin upwards, drawing you in close, “I’m not goin’ down without a fight, darlin’.”

“I’m serious,” You don’t need to force a love confession on him, not that it would salvage anything or make things better, because Joel already understands—there’s too many instances where he’s felt his heart tug in all the weird, uncomfortable places he’s kept locked away since he was younger, before the outbreak, before Sarah, “you can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m here,” Joel assures you, forehead pressed firm against your own as he nods, “I’m right here.”

He failed to mention how after the attack, the split second of everything flashing through his memory, the possibility of losing Tommy, disappointing Ellie, that you were the one thing that kept him conscious enough to come home.

He’d left you with a burning kiss the day he left, kissing like two lovebirds trying to keep a secret as you hung around the stables as the pairs readied to leave.

It was his own little promise of a return, but you didn’t realize in just what shape. He was good at masking, even now. Joel was hurting, but all he wanted was you.

And you could give him that.

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Joel hums, soft and quiet, “Don’t move,” He pleads, “need you right here.”

His palms are heavy, feeling so much larger than they should as they span the length of your body, pulling you in close and cradling you like a safety blanket. Maybe you should stop, it isn’t the best route to cope with the situation, but Joel is there—wanting and needing and he’s mouthing at the junction of your neck in a way that has you gasping for air.

He needs you to occupy his mind, it’s what you did best for him. Joel needed somewhere else to be, anywhere but the hellscape behind his eyes when sleep succumbed to his pure exhaustion.

Just a moment. Just a moment to breathe. To feel.

Your brow furrows so deep that you're scowling now, but mostly out of concern, forehead scrunching from the emotion and you cradle Joel’s face carefully between your hands, “Tell me what you need.”

You.

He doesn’t say as much, but you can feel him sifting for your tattered pajama pants as he digs his fingertips under the waistband and yanks, hoping you’ll get the idea.

Okay, this is fine. He needs sex, you can provide him that. But, you won’t let him escape. Joel needed to be present and here with you, not forcing himself to some far off space in his mind and keeping you around him like nothing more than a warm body for him to fuck.

He’s got you all pliant under his touch as he needs at soft skin, thumb digging into your hip bone as he shifts between your legs lazily, spreading you wide and using the arm that is holding most of his weight to unfurl his hand and reach for that tight space behind your knee, tucking that leg up and over his right hip—this feels undoubtedly vulnerable, but he’s staring at you with those eyes and you absolutely fucking melt, his mouth parted by mere centimeters as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

“Go on, darlin’,” Joel encourages, “I know you need it too.”

That was an understatement.

He’s already hard, head of his cock resting against the small expanse of skin between his groin and belly button. It’s like a wave of heat that rushes over your bodies when you finally touch him how he’s been begging—not so much with words but pleading looks. He needs it even more than you do.

Usually you would spend a while in the throes of leisurely foreplay, letting Joel devour you until you were nothing but a heap of numbness on the bed and only then would he allow you what you were begging for the entire time. His cock, buried deep enough inside you that it felt impossible. But, there was none of that.

Your thumb slides over the head, smearing the precum in a too teasing motion that has Joel cursing under his breath before you’re abruptly guiding him to your core, slick and waiting without a single touch, embarrassingly so. Fortunately, you and Joel were long over that. Joel was overly aware of the effect he had on you—mind, body, and soul.

He slides home and you have to take a moment, a second to breath, chest expanding with a full breadth of air as Joel pulls you in closer, if that was even possible, warm hands settling firm on your hips, his head resting against the pillow you both shared, “There she is,” Joel comments vexingly, “always know what you need, right, baby?”

As good as it feels to hear him, the way he can melt you with a single phrase or sound, he’s still on guard in the way he’s shielding himself against your body, rocking his hips in a motion that drowns out all relative thinking and it builds, builds until you can’t take it and you feel like you just might burst. You slip a hand out from under him to pull at the chain on his bedside lamp, drowning you in a soft yellow glow and Joel doesn’t look right away—that’s how you know.

“Switch me,” You suggest softly, followed by an even lower, disgruntled noise from Joel, “—Joel, come on.”

Joel feels that distant ache in his bones, the soreness in his hands from the damage they caused, he groans with the movement, but even louder with the way you sink back down onto him once he’s settled against the mattress, hands fisted into his shirt and rumpling it up his stomach, revealing a few inches of soft skin, grinding down against him until he’s nearly writhing. His mouth opens slightly, ready to say something you didn’t want to hear.

You offer a soft shhh, eyes focused on the lines of his face, beautiful with age and scrunched up in pleasure, eyes closed as he settles into the feeling of you again, “Stay with me,” You jeer quietly, a soft giggle settling on the surface as you smile, ever so slightly, ”‘can you do that?”

Sometimes it feels like an impossible feat, but Joel grips you a little tighter, pulls you in ever the more closer and the slick of your body feels so goddamn good, he doesn’t even realize his thought breached his lips before your breath is hot against his ear, his mind battling the thoughts buried under the surface and every filthy thing he could blurt out in the moment, he’s so tense with anticipation, “Stop thinking so hard, Joel. You’re home. Safe.”

And for once, he gives in. A long, hard fought battle that succumbs to his own exhaustion, allowing the kinder touches, the intimate glances between two people, almost like your fingertips were grazing each other’s souls. It’s felt intense before, but this moment is sharp around the edges and Joel knows what you need to hear. He’s fought it for a while, trying to right his wrongs, remind himself still, that he didn’t deserve you. He’s done fighting.

“Just need you, darlin’.” He admits gruffly, lips sliding against each other in a messy, lazy attempt at a kiss, “Always know just what to do.”

In other words, you could read Joel like a book.

And in the few years you’ve known him, you were hoping that was the case, considering the level of intimacy you’ve reached. Joel comes with a tired, drawn out groan that pierces you deep, and you’re right there—right there, before Joel is flipping you over with little fight on your end, sucking on your clit with a ferocity that doesn’t let up, coming with a shout as you grip his hair at the root, riding out the extent of your climax against his mouth as he eased you into your sated state of exhaustion.

The comedown is heavy, long, extended bouts of silence as you two try to catch your breath, slow your pounding hearts and Joel, at some point, finds his way higher up your body, his head laying against your chest, just underneath your breasts and it's an easy position to rub your fingers into his hair, along the planes of his face. He'd never admit it, but this is his favorite part. The after.

For you, it was everything.

"I want you around more often," Joel says quietly, like a whisper, "—m'tired of worrying about you when you're not around."

It almost makes you think you slipped into some sort of fugue state, not believing that the Joel Miller had said anything remotely close to a confession. But, then again, he surprised you every day. And you knew he couldn't ask you outright, not now, maybe not ever.

But, you'd settle for this.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel." You promise, "You've always got me to come home too."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #my writing #posting this and hiding for another six months #pedrostories

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