#last fic that will be tagged with that
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Unplanned Consequences (Part 5: Patton) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series-The End]
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Relationships: Patton/Logan
Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil (mentioned), Roman (mentioned)
Summary: Sometimes... things change.
Notes: This takes place after Best Laid Plans
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
“Hey Lo,” Patton said as he walked into the living room. Virgil had officially moved into an apartment with Roman a few days ago as the spring semester was starting tomorrow. This left Patton and Logan living alone together in the house for the first time since… The Incident.
Patton had just finished cleaning up dinner after getting Logan settled on the couch. The TV was on, but Logan was currently staring past it into space, something he never used to do, but had become a frequent occurrence since getting injured. It worried Patton a bit, but he tried not to think about it.
Logan looked up at him as Patton said his name. He didn’t smile softly at Patton like he usually would have. It made something clog in Patton’s throat.
“Hello,” Logan said.
“I… made us both some tea,” Patton said, holding out the tea mugs as though for his approval.
“Thank you, love.” He still seemed distracted and distant. He turned back towards the television.
Patton nodded and then walked over to set the mugs on the coffee table. Then, he sat down on the couch next to Logan. Years of instinct told him to scootch over closer until their arms and legs intermingled, but he hesitated.
Logan either noticed his hesitation, or noticed his deviation from the norm, because he glanced over at Patton. He lifted the arm closest to Patton and Patton instantly took the invitation, moving closer to curl up under his arm.
Logan pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
It was silent between them for a long moment, only the sound of the television droning on breaking the quiet. The news was on, Patton noted. There was coverage on a supervillain attack Prince had stopped the night before.
“I think I need to retire,” Logan said out of the blue.
Patton drew back to look at him in surprise. “What?” he asked. “You’ve been given medical leave until next fall. You’ll be more than recovered enough to go back to teaching by then.”
Logan looked at him for a moment and then gave him a wry smile. “I wasn’t talking about teaching, my dear.”
“Oh,” Patton said blinking at him. “Oh.” He took a moment to process that statement. “But you… you want to retire?”
“I wouldn’t say want,” Logan said, “but I think it may be the most responsible course of action.”
“You… I know you’re struggling with the leg and everything right now, but you’ll get better.”
“Patton,” Logan said, “you’re a doctor.”
“Exactly!” Patton said, feeling oddly defensive for a reason he couldn’t place. “So, I know exactly how people heal from injuries like yours. You’ll need time, but with physical therapy and��”
Logan cut him off. “With physical therapy,” he said, “I will get much better. I will perhaps walk again, maybe even without a mobility aid eventually, but Patton, I’m 57-years-old. This severe of an injury is not going to heal quickly or completely.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m getting old,” Logan said. “I’ve been slowing down, and this will not help me speed up. Being Bluebird is physically… and mentally demanding. I won’t be able fully meet those demands again after what happened.”
“That’s not true,” Patton said even though he wasn’t sure of that himself.
“It is,” said Logan. “It’s always something that would happen eventually. This has just… sped up the process.”
“You’re catastrophizing,” Patton said. It was probably an ironic statement to make when Patton’s words sounded so much more upset than his husband’s. “You’re making a rash decision because you feel bad now, but…”
“This isn’t rash,” Logan said, evenly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot in the last months.”
Patton didn’t know what to say to that.
“Besides,” he said, nodding at the TV. The news had cycled around again while they talked, back to Prince, back to Roman. “I’m not the city’s only long-term hero anymore. Roman had been doing well before and is doing even better now. I will continue to help him on his journey, and it won’t be an immediate transition. Bluebird will still make a few appearances, but I do think it’s time. For my own sake and ultimately for this city’s too.”
Patton hesitated. Logan was right, of course, that this was inevitable. It’s just that Patton had never really thought about it. He didn’t want to think about it, especially now when Logan was still so hurt in multiple ways. He’d been telling himself that eventually things would go back to normal, but Logan had just confirmed Patton’s greatest fear: they wouldn’t.
It felt selfish to be upset, but Patton really couldn’t help it. Patton felt himself gripping onto Logan’s sleeve for support even though support was Patton’s job right now. He felt tears in his eyes, but he resisted letting them fall.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked.
“I…” Patton said. A couple of the tears escaped. “It’s just… I’ve never known a Logan that wasn’t also Bluebird.”
Logan sighed softly. He gently removed Patton’s grasping hand from his shirt sleeve to hold it in his own. “Things change,” he said, doing that thing where he stared into the distance again, “labels shift.”
A/N:
And that my friends, is the end of Sometimes Labels Shift.
It's been a long time coming and I'm feeling a bit emotional even though it's not the end of the Labeled Universe. We're just moving on to the next chapter.
All of our favorite Labeled characters will return in the new sub-series named Envisage. I hope to see you there.
#sanders sides#logan sanders#patton sanders#logicality#labeled universe#sometimes labels shift#last fic that will be tagged with that#sadge#adriana writes#not pieces fic
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Just some more thoughts on that jayvik dbh au
#I got a lot of people saying that Viktor should be the Android#which I did mention in the tags last time#but after thinking about it I just think that the human experience is such an integral part of viktor as a character#(aside from the fact that it makes every character ever)#his pain and suffering due to his illness and disability and class#like I can’t take that away from him#not that Jayce doesn’t go through his own things too#but I think Jayce’s naïveté from season one lends itself well to an Android in awe of human life#and a jaded but wise Viktor who still has a good heart and sense of humour#I mean this is just my version of the au and like I think I said in my tags last time im pretty sure I’ve seen a few around with android V#definitely got recommended some fics that I’m excited to check out!#sorry for rambling - this isn’t to discredit any other interpretations!! just kind of exploring my thought process behind it :)#oh also sorry that this is angsty lol#it’s fine#my art#arcane#jayvik#Jayce talis#jayce arcane#Viktor arcane#dbh#detroit become human#arcane au#noodles talks#(in the tags)
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Slow mornings in Ba Sing Se.
I needed something soft today, so here's a little sketch for @nerdylizj's breathtaking fic Forgetting is a kind of mercy.
#zutara#atla#avatar the last airbender#zuko#katara#atla fanart#prince zuko#atla art#Forgetting is a kind of mercy#Gonna tag this as Lee and Kya AU because *ahem* it kinda IS#lee from the tea shop#zuko as lee#Lee and Kya From The Tea Shop AU#Lee and Kya AU#zutara fanart#zutara fic#zutara au#zutara fanfiction#zutara art#katara x zuko#zuko x katara#atla zuko#katara fanart#katara art#atla katara#katara of the southern water tribe#Listen. They're everything to me.#I was about to have a tiny breakdown earlier so I thought “well a ZK cuddle should bring me some joy”. And it did.#This is (obviously) just a sketch but I'd love to fully render it some time soon. I just have like a thousand wips going on.#But omg do I need the fluff
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He's doing hand talk :'D Cute and Sad.
#transformers one#b 127#bumblebee#digital art#megatron#optimus prime#elita one#Hand talk#because this ain't asl#Idk asl#I know french asl#the basics#barely nothing at all#and apparently fsl and asl are super similar but still#Anyway#I MADE IT UP#the signs in this#cuz it was FUN#having Bee decide what gestures fit his friends#there aren't enough fics about bee using hand talk#art#it's sad but cute#Imma draw a lot for this fic#A Bee's Last Sound#I'm tagging it because theres gonna be a LOT#maccadam#transformers one fanfiction#mute bumblebee
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Some fanart of the Under the Red Hood animated movie version of Jason Todd :'))) ilu son you deserve the world
#jason todd#dc comics#batman#red hood#batfamily#batfam#under the red hood#flon#flonflonflon#flonart#ALSO I SAW THE FIC RECCOMMENDATION UNDER THE LAST POST (yes I read all the tags and comments#I don't have an account and am waiting for my invite code I'm very eager to read it
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monologue
#they said i couldnt have a worse speech bubbles to image ratio and i said 'bet?'#isat spoilers#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#two hats spoilers#isat#lucabyteart#sifloop#not rlly but it gets the tag in case ppl r backscrolling my tags on my blog for some reason#anyway this dialogue has been kicking around in my files for about 2 months as it is known to do & i wanted to play with typesetting#'write a fic if you like words so much' absolutely not . what if it was pictures instead. and also i wanted an excuse 2 loop gradient#but yeah uhhhh this is very . very loosely the result of me thinking about the 'island is trapped in the fucking future' theory.#like if so. would it just like. reappear. when the rest of the world catches up w where it was stuck in time. like . 20 more years on.#and thus the q: god wait at what point would sif be older than the age they last knew their parents to be. theyre nearly 30 now so like.#you can see my logical path thru these thoughts yes? anyway i think its fun when these two put their braincells together to realise#the horrors. and kind of exclusively the horrors. wahoo!!!#anyway food for thought re: island reappears and to the islanders it's not been any time at all. but its been like 30 years for the rest#fuck do you do: your boy returns 30 years older plus a family (maybe even a child) and minus . a fucking eye.#also theres a fucking angel with them? update. thats also your boy what the fuck. wait fym theyre married. hold on. wait--
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Halftime
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: A chance meeting a week before Thanksgiving leaves you and your dad’s best friend to handle your feelings the only way you know how: fucking on the couch when your dad falls asleep during the game.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Age gap. Soft dom!Joel. Daddy kink. Praise kink (!) Makeup sex. Pussy pronouns.
Note: ‘Or maybe on a fifty yard line watchin’ Bama beat the hell out of Tennessee’ is a line from Riley Green’s ‘Hell of a Way to Go.’ I was in Knoxville when we played this year, but in my fic, Alabama wins. If you’re a Vols fan, I’m sorry. And RMFT.
Word count: 10.5k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Guilt brought you home, and liquor helped you stay.
These were two of the shittiest things a daughter could admit, but the fact was that you simply wouldn’t be here if your dad hadn’t broken his leg at work last week. That you wanted to help, but your patience was thin, and the only way you knew how to reconcile the two was to drink. A lot. Friday you came home, and by midday Saturday, sometime around eleven or twelve, you were plastered.
Staggering up the front steps of your childhood home with Theresa Servopoulos—newfound friend from camp and the heaviest drinker you’d met in a long, long time—hot on your heels. You’d just had brunch, and the meal was mostly liquid. Bottomless mimosas had been Frank’s idea, and when his husband Bill had offered to be the DD after the fact, you’d had no choice but to accept, really. You drank your weight in citrus and champagne and spent the whole morning getting to know Tess’s friends. As your state of intoxication progressed, you’d told them your troubles and all that had been plaguing you lately.
Now, hours later, you didn’t want to think at all.
You wanted to sit your ass down on the couch, turn the TV on to Disney+, and spend the next three to thirteen more binging Star Wars spin-offs and discussing with Tess at length whether Katee Sackhoff or Timothy Olyphant was the more fuckable supporting actor.
“Honestly…I’d let Jabba the Hutt hit,” you confessed, slurring your words a little as you fumbled for your key.
“You’re fucking lying,” Tess half-groaned, half-laughed.
She watched you try and jam metal into metal and fail twice before steeling herself against a rocking chair and reaching out her hand. You waved it away. At a distance, you heard the hum of an engine and another voice, loud:
“You ladies need a little help over there or wha-at?”
That was Frank. He was arguably the most drunk out of the three of you and hanging his handsome, greying head out of the passenger side of Bill’s Chevy S-10. He’d seen you try and fail with the key, too, and seemed more eager than ever to lend a hand, while his husband was likely kicking himself for ever offering to drive you back.
Tess gripped the porch chair harder and gestured, dazed.
“Give her a minute, she’s—” She hiccuped once. “—intelligent and entirely capable. She’s got this, OK?”
You didn’t. You really didn’t. And by the way you were finessing this key you didn’t feel too fucking smart either. You crammed your key against the tight, rigid slot in the front door of your home, missed it completely, and then wondered, dimly, how men were able to aim their dicks.
How Joel ever managed to fit that massive, throbbing—
“Fuck!” you cursed, kicking the doorframe with a huff.
The periphery of your vision was spinning and swimming a little now, and before you knew it, Tess had snatched your keychain from out of your hand. She got to work.
And while she did, you turned back to Bill and Frank, whose truck was still idling quietly in your driveway.
Frank had an eyebrow raised. His chin was in his palm, and his elbow was planted in the car’s open window. With that look alone, you knew what he wanted to say.
“Fine…fine,” you capitulated in a loud, droning shout. Head spinning, “You can give him my fucking number.”
Frank grinned at that.
“No shit?” he yelled back.
“Yeah. I really am that horny.”
From somewhere in the car, Bill groaned his disapproval. Frank’s smile only widened. It’d been his idea to set you up with one of their neighbors after you’d divulged all of your dating life turmoils over eggs benedict and grits that morning—how fucking your dad’s best friend had, in fact, not been the wisest decision and you needed something new to get your mind off the man for a little while. Frank had been all too happy to offer supplying your number to the so-called ‘dreamboat’ next door to them. Initially, you’d brushed it off, but the longer you stood on this porch contemplating the hellish few days you’d be spending at home for Thanksgiving, the more you drunkenly reasoned a dick might do you some good.
And if it wasn’t from Joel Miller, even better. You leaned against the nearest porch column and pointed at Frank.
Then at Bill, squinting dumbly and faux-accusingly.
“I’m desperate, but I’m trusting y’all, too, alright?”
You wanted to get fucked, not fucked over, again. Frank seemed to understand right away and nodded his head.
“I’ll give him your number, tell him you’re hot—which you are—and you two can work something out. It’ll be fine.”
He pointed back at you, still smiling, and you hoped it would be. Behind you, Tess had solved the puzzle of the chrome-plated house key, and had thrust the door open. She stumbled inside, and your feet started to follow hers.
“Tell Tess to text us your number!” Frank had to cup his hands saying it, as Bill was already starting to pull away.
You nodded and waved. Watched the world veer sideways and your kind, considerate, hammered new friend-of-a-friend repeat how great this was going to be—this guy’ll do you so good you’ll forget Joel exists—while you backed into the house. A gust of warm air from inside pricked at your skin, and along with that touch came the tiniest trace of hope. A sanguine sort of warmth that twisted low in your gut and made you smile.
And cup your hands, as Frank had, while calling to him:
“How old is Mr. Dreamboat, anyway?!”
The truck was crunching its ways down the gravel drive. Its path was slow, though, and Frank’s voice was clear.
“FORTY-ONE!”
It was as though you were hearing those words in a dream. You almost couldn’t help what you said next.
Fanning yourself, you yelled back, “I lo-o-o-ve that!”
“What?!”
Frank hadn’t heard you. They were farther away now.
You had to practically scream it now, but you were drunk enough that you didn’t really care. Tess was entertained, half-hunched on the floor and trying to work off her shoes while she laughed at this stupid exchange.
In truth, it didn’t matter how loud you yelled, because you lived on several dozen acres of land, and your dad wasn’t home. He’d told you that he was hitching a ride with Tommy to their usual weekend haunt to watch the Alabama-Tennessee game, and it started an hour ago. The house was empty, and you were free to screech.
“I said, ‘I love that’!”
“Yeah? Love what?!”
Frank was hanging halfway out of the passenger window by now, and his face was flushed with moronic humor.
Bill was probably grinding his teeth together as he drove.
“O-O-O-OLD MEN!” you shrilled, as loud as you could.
Next thing you knew, Tess was on the floor. Wheezing.
It didn’t matter whether Frank could hear you now; evidently, he’d gotten the message. Their truck was crawling down your drive with a low, rumbling crackle, and the eyes that were still glued to yours were shining.
Before they turned out of sight, Frank waved again and blew you a kiss, as you and Tess had done to him at some point earlier that day. He slipped back into the car, and your sides were nearly aching from how hard you were giggling—nothing was even that particularly funny, but with a nice noontime buzz and Tess’s relentless cackling from across the foyer, you couldn’t help it. You shut the door, staggered over, and were about to drop.
Right when you were about to collapse, though, Tess wobbled up. You saw her raise two hands in front of her.
“I’m— I’m gonna pee…or puke…possibly,” she warned.
That wasn’t good.
You pointed up.
“First door on your left. Do you need any—”
But Tess was already staggering off. You might’ve laughed again, and trailed after her with a plea to try not to projectile vomit all over those nice festive towels your dad had bought, but the moment came and went quick. In fact, it wasn’t even brought to an end by your friend’s departure but rather the screech of her feet on the floor.
Nearly tripping over herself to leave, then crashing into something else before she could. You heard a thwack.
Then her huff, ‘Fuck. Sorry!’ And you turned.
You looked up and cursed.
Again, you felt like you might be in a dream. Only this time, the sight had more of a nightmarish hue, and you had only to grip the edge of a chair—no, a table, a side table—beside you in the hall to keep yourself upright.
Your sweet, sloppy-drunk friend had run straight into Joel. She was raising her hands again and saying sorry.
You could tell she meant it, too. She was just shaking her head, appearing to try and rid herself of the stunned, dumbfounded feelings, when she tilted her chin up.
Then, somehow even brighter, she smiled in recognition.
“Lucien Flores!”
Not missing a beat, like you knew she wouldn’t:
“You fucking prick.”
Of course she was sober enough to remember his face. The time she’d mistaken him for an uptight FEDRA counselor back at camp. How you’d fucked him on her bunk. All the shit-talking you’d been doing about him since, too. You knew she wasn’t a woman to mince words, so it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when next she placed a hand on his pec, patted it lightly and added:
“You’re an asshole. A spineless, slimy, sad sack of shit.”
Joel blinked as she walked past him, toward the stairs.
“Good to see you, too, Tess.”
“Eat shit and die.”
“Theresa.”
You hadn’t even meant to say the last aloud; it just came out. Tess was holding the rail, going slow but determined to get upstairs without losing her food all over the floor.
The next thing you heard was the slam of the bathroom door. You winced and thought of your dad’s decorative towels a moment. That thought was then supplanted by another, though you pretended not to feel it, at least outwardly. You brushed past Joel to go to the kitchen.
Why was he here? He surely wouldn’t have come unless your father was there, and your dad was supposed to be watching the Vols take the ass-beating of a lifetime from the Tide. Or maybe vice-versa. You weren’t sure how the latter was doing since Saban retired. You rubbed one temple as you opened a cabinet and looked for a glass.
Reconsidering, you opted for a plastic cup instead.
Your head was throbbing as you walked to the sink.
You sensed you likely weren’t of a mind to be holding anything fragile, and the second that followed only proved it. A footfall sounded by the kitchen island, and you flinched, dropping your cup like a fucking idiot.
“Where’s my dad?” you blurted out, not thinking.
You didn’t want his voice to be the first to fill the silence. You picked your cup off the floor and turned on the tap.
More silence followed. You couldn’t be sure if it was your own drunken paranoia or a genuine feeling of two eyes on your back, but your skin bristled. You were prepared to pose the question again when your answer came in the form of a new sound: not Joel’s voice, but another’s.
An announcer, apparently. You turned your head and saw ESPN on the living room TV, where the game was playing. In front of the screen, your dad was supine on his recliner. His jaw hung slack, and his eyes were shut.
So much for those morning beers with Tommy.
His leg was armored with a boot: a real, no-bullshit cast meant to protect the tibia he’d shattered, propped up in front of him while the other dangled haphazardly from the chair. You watched him, feeling an odd mix of pity, nausea, and love, and for a second, you didn’t think to move. This man was the reason you were home, after all—and why Joel was, too. You almost forgot your anger.
Your cup was full. Overflowing. You turned off the sink, then poured what excess you could as your hand shook.
You shouldn’t have been holding anything in that moment, off-kilter and unnerved as you were, but you wanted to seem occupied. You inhaled and started past Joel again, who was leaning against the counter, quiet.
He still didn’t talk, and let you stroll about half a foot in front of him before you felt the cup lift out of your hand.
“Hey—” you started.
But Joel was resuming your path before you could finish. He’d snagged the water from your grasp and made his way out of the kitchen, calmly, and you didn’t have to ask to know where he was going. You felt a pang of rekindled resentment but said nothing, knowing that was useless.
Arrogant motherfucker. Patronizing asshole. Clearly, you couldn’t be trusted to carry a cup of fucking water up the stairs in your own home, so he had had to do it for you. You went over to your father in the living room, blinking through a dozen more pissed off thoughts, when you glanced down at one of your hands again. You winced.
Stop shaking.
You needed to stay busy. Make use of those dumb, trembling hands while Joel was here and not let him see that it was all from memories of him—not the mimosas—that you couldn’t keep a steady hold to save your life.
You started to clean, mindlessly. Cleared the old coffee table of its manifold beer cans and plates of stale pizza. You walked with an unsteady gait, the room still tilting a little, but you ended up getting a decent amount cradled in your arms and into the trash or the sink shortly after.
You had just taken a bite of a slice of pepperoni and made a face when your dad shifted in his seat, letting out a grunt. Still unconscious, he rubbed at his arms. The house around him was warm, but never quite enough for a man who appeared to have been born cold-blooded. After years of this, you knew the routine; you dropped your pizza, went to the thermostat, and cranked it to 75.
Less than a minute later, it came: “Boiling us alive, huh?”
It was the first you’d heard from Joel since he spoke his curt greeting to Tess. You were over by the closet getting a blanket, and Joel was stood in the doorway, frowning.
You turned, holding up the big wool throw for him to see before you went back over to your dad in the recliner.
“He needs it,” you replied, gaze averted.
“By ‘it’ you mean his electric bill gone through the roof?”
He could be such a father sometimes. The worst kind.
“No, keeping him fucking warm, Joel.”
And the end of the last sentence you hadn’t meant to be so loud. Or mean. You didn’t really care whether it offended him, but the thought of waking your dad to hear that—being rude to your ‘Uncle Joel,’ as your dad had so innocently called the man last month—was awful. You squinted seeing him stir under the blanket, but then he turned to the side and snored even louder. You sighed.
“Doctor’s got him on some heavy painkillers. He’s been out since before the last game even ended,” Joel said.
You glanced at the TV. The game was crawling to halftime at a snail’s pace, by the looks of it. You smiled, seeing those puke-pumpkin-hued fucks getting smoked. In a second, though, the curve of your lips was fading.
“Will you stop?”
Your voice was shrill. You hurried over to Joel, who was busy dicking around with the thermostat and trying to get it down to 68 degrees—freezing, in your dad’s mind.
“It’s too hot.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re being—”
“This isn’t your fuckin’ house, Miller! Quit!”
“Yell a little louder, why don’t y—” Joel began to scold.
You wouldn’t let him. Of all things to get on your ass about now, volume wasn’t the hill he’d die on today. Before you even realized what you two were doing, you shoulder-checked him like you might do an annoying brother, and his arm wound swiftly around your front. It didn’t hurt, but it sure as hell made you mad to be held.
You made a jab at Joel’s ribs and ignored the grunt from him. Anger was a natural defense—your default state.
Every last semi-tranquil encounter you’d shared with someone you cared about before was always marred by rage at some point, and with Joel, it came as easy as breathing. If you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off, you were ripping him a new one, or he was grating your nerves. You didn’t get along, and you likely never would.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t need there somewhere. You just smothered it with something hostile, constantly.
You wished it would go away. You shoved at his arm.
“You’re gonna wake him,” you hissed, strained.
“Yeah? That’s what you’re worried about?”
You wriggled against Joel’s hold and, scrunching your nose, made a pass for the dial on the wall. He caught it.
Now he was holding your hand in one of his, and your shoulder with the other as his forearm crossed your chest. Joel’s frame was looming over yours, and you glared ahead of you, where the screen still read ‘68.’
You could throttle him—Joel Miller simply refused to lose
“Is that all you’ve gotta say to me, after this whole time?”
His breaths were tight like yours, but the voice was slow.
“What else is there to say?” you snapped.
“You’ve been ignoring me all month.”
“I’m in college. I have shit to do.”
“Like block all of my calls?”
“Go fuck yourself, Joel.”
“Just tell me why.”
“Fuck. You.”
Your last two caustic words were still warm on your tongue when Joel turned you around. Again, he wasn’t forceful or harsh—your looks had enough vitriol for the two of you—but he pushed your body against the wall. Right beside the thermostat, your spine straightened, and your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist.
“Is that an invitation?” he hummed, voice palpably lower.
Un-fucking-believable, you thought. Of course, it was.
Silently, you prided yourself in wearing a dress that day. It wasn’t the short, red-and-white gingham thing you’d worn to the fair with Joel last month, but it was loose. Flowing. Easy enough for him to hike up your legs, sliding a coarse, warm palm up your thigh while the other held you tight to the wall. His hips pinned yours, and with that gesture, you felt him hard and desperate in denim.
“Need me to fuck you now or what? Is that the only way I’m getting a word out of this mouth?” he pressed again.
Honestly, it was. You nodded once to say as much.
Then he pushed you harder against the wall. He wrestled with his jeans just enough for you to hear a belt, and a button, and a short, sharp zip come down, and your mind was swimming with filthy ideas when he grunted.
Joel nosed your cheek, and a hand made its way to your mouth. You sucked in a breath right before you felt three fingertips graze the seam of your lips. Prying them open.
“If I’m fucking you here, I need more than a nod, kid.”
You really, really hated him now. This felt like a game. His index curled into your bottom teeth and pulled your mouth open wider, while his own was smiling, faintly. It was hard to talk with his fingers skirting your tongue—his warm, bare member springing out and grazing your folds through your panties down below—but you tried.
Your words were muffled as you spoke, “Please fuck me.”
Clearly, that was all Joel needed. With an easy nudge from the head of his cock, he pushed your underwear to the side, and his grin got bigger when he felt you soaked.
You were drooling down his length, and he hadn’t so much as touched you before he pushed you up against his body. It felt almost shameful as he slid himself inside.
Then, in the next moment, your brain went blank. Your bodies were joined completely, and Joel had you seated all the way down to the base of his cock, where a tuft of salt-and-pepper hair tickled your skin. His fingers hung limply from your lips while he nestled in; when you groaned, he used his middle and index to stifle the noise.
“Shh, hey—” he started, as if suddenly remembering where he was, and whose daughter he was fucking, “You’re okay. You’re good…I know that feels good.”
You despised him even more when he was right. He pressed the heft of his belly into you, and with the friction, you couldn’t help but whimper against his hand.
“Fuck you,” you bit again, this time through fingers.
“I am.”
Then he pushed them in further, and he made you suck. Joel started fucking you gently against the wall, and with the first few strokes, you knew you’d be putty soon enough. You focused on feeling and trying not to whine.
“I’ve been texting,” Joel continued, breath labored, sounding half-crazed, “Calling every chance I got—”
He paused to jerk his hips harder. Make you bounce on his cock or maybe just hold him closer from the force of it. And you did, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and reluctantly burying your face into the side.
He was familiar, that was for sure. You tensed seeing something else familiar—your dad in the next room—and preemptively swallowed a moan while Joel kept going.
Fucking you stupid and talking to you, per usual.
“—to make sure you were OK,” he finished, panting.
Pulling his fingers from your lips so you could answer:
“I’m fine.”
“Are we?”
“You lied to me!”
And no sooner had he retracted his hand that he needed to clamp his palm over your mouth. You’d said that loud.
In the next room over, through the open space between the kitchen and the den, you heard your dad snore softly. When your gaze flitted back to Joel’s, it was like you were chiding the other at once—whose idea was this, anyway? Slowly, he moved his hand down, but his gaze was stern.
“Didn’t mean to lie,” Joel answered, now lower than ever.
“But you did. Dad’s been fucking his old sidepiece, my mom’s best friend, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was my place—”
“Your place?!” You made sure to keep your indignation hushed this time, but your eyes went wide. Incredulous.
You would’ve shoved Joel off if he hadn’t moved first. Neither one of you had had a fraction of the presence of mind to be thinking straight here, obviously, so when he carried you closer to a table in an adjoining room, all you were thinking was how not to lose your cool completely. When Joel tried to set you down on the wooden surface, you slipped away. You moved to the couch; you weren’t even considering where you were going, just that you wanted more of him, and you needed to be done quick.
If that meant fucking on the sofa behind your dad’s recliner, so be it. Joel balked a second before following.
“Are you…?” he started, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What? Not your ‘place’ here, either?” you shot back.
Admittedly, you were both insane. No matter how far away your dad’s sleeping form happened to be, or how thoroughly knocked out he appeared from the drugs, this was batshit, objectively. Joel’s eyes narrowed at you.
Then he moved some more. Casting a sidelong glance at the recliner less than ten feet away, he gripped himself and gave you a look as if to say, ‘Are we crazy now, or…?’
You nodded to confirm that you were.
By moving again, apparently, Joel was saying the same.
Except now it wasn’t with words but with a look—eyeing you hungrily and setting all rational, sane thought aside to climb over the couch to you. Your legs were spread.
Joel slotted himself quickly between them, then inside you, without another word. His body crowded yours. The scent you knew was also the fragrance you hated most: the smell of his American Spirits. He tried to kiss you with those lips, and you dodged them, choosing instead to hold the coarse greyish hairs at the nape of his neck and pull them. Draw him closer to your body without letting him get too close to you. Joel let out a grunt.
His hips rutted in short, quick, shallow motions again, like he was desperate to feel anything. When you wouldn’t accept his lips on yours, they fell to the side of your face. He held your sides while he dragged his cock in and out of your pulsing heat, and his breaths fanned heavy on your cheek. His stubble was sharp on your skin.
“Anything you want,” he huffed shortly.
His mouth was right by your ear, and his words were spoken in a breath. And another. And another. Still panting and dragging his old, weary hips back and forth in an effort to pleasure you. He felt indescribably good.
“Want…what?” you murmured back.
You clawed at his torso and locked your legs around his waist. You glanced over at the recliner, turned away from the couch, thankfully, and hoped it wouldn’t move again. Your dad’s breaths were deep, and so was Joel inside you
Sliding a hand under your head and cradling your body to his, and still maintaining a bruising pace with his cock—you almost couldn’t take it. You wanted to come undone.
And there Joel went, murmuring in your ear. Battling the urge not to get too loud with your father there, but still:
“I’ll do anything…anything you want.”
“W-Why? For what?”
“To say I’m sorry.”
“You don’t—”
But your words were cut short. For a second, your heart leapt into your throat thinking the sound was coming from your dad’s old chair, and then you realized that it wasn’t. Just the same, your terror spiked again when you sensed it was somewhere inside—coming from the back.
“Can I get a…ROLL TIDE?!” someone yelled.
Tommy Miller wasn’t even an Alabama fan.
Still, it seemed he was here to celebrate like one anyway. You froze momentarily, taking in the shout, then the steps, then the linoleum floor of the mud room being shuffled across before the boots were kicked off quick.
His brother was quicker. Joel climbed off of you in a blink, jeans and boxers trailing just as fast. Then his hands were dropping to you, gripping your arms, and heaving you up. You stumbled. You shoved your skirt down, fast, and barely had the time to breathe while you skittered after Joel, still in his hold. The two of you ran like hell: quiet, but like your asses might’ve been on fire. You made it out to the foyer, and from there, you could hear Tommy making a fuss in the kitchen. Joel strode three steps at a time going up the stairs, and behind him, you nearly face-planted. He tugged you up then, swiftly.
Silent as death at the top of the stairs and trying to usher you into a room, not saying a word. You dug in your heels
“Wait. Wait—Tess?”
“Napping in the tub.”
Of course. You cast one last pensive look at the bathroom door before you let Joel nudge you away.
You were pushed into a room; you knew it was yours. Steeped as you were in fear, shame, and lingering inebriation, you couldn’t waste a second getting in—and neither could Joel. His frame followed close while Tommy’s old, familiar sounds grew louder downstairs. He ushered you further, walked you forward, pushed you in an inch or two too far, and before you knew it, your knees were bumping along the front of your bed. You tripped.
Your hands flew out to break your fall. Unfortunately, the limbs that were meant to stay straight were weaker than you’d hoped, and instead of holding you up, they crumpled beneath your weight. You fell on your face.
The spot where you landed was soft, though.
You let out a muffled grunt into cotton sheets.
Across from where you lay, Joel’s steps were slow—painstakingly so—and when you’d propped yourself up and blinked again and again to adjust your eyes to the dim half-light of the room, you could see him there. Pacing. Skating a look to the doorknob, as if checking to make sure he’d locked the thing properly, then running a hand through his hair. From your perch, you saw a wince.
Then his face turned to you. Again—guilty.
What the fuck am I doing here with you?
That was what you thought you saw in his expression, anyway. You felt compelled to ask him the very same.
“Why are you here? Why is Tommy here?” As if to punctuate your question, more footfalls followed, loud, “I thought he was taking my dad to the bar. And you—”
“I know. He was supposed to. Then he texted and said your dad crashed before the Notre Dame game even ended, so he figured he’d head over to the bar himself.”
You were about to speak, but Joel continued.
“I said he was an idiot to leave your dad home alone, since the man can hardly walk on his own. So I came.”
You swallowed. While some momentary swell of gratitude threatened to constrict your throat, you forced out a frown and scooted back. The room swayed a little.
“That the only reason?” you asked, clipped.
At the foot of the bed, Joel held your gaze. It was stern. Your own vacillating look was no match for the man who, in spite of the two or ten beers he’d likely guzzled that morning, could stand firm. Prop his hands on his hips.
Look every bit the displeased fatherly figure while he watched you crawl across the plush, pink bed at length.
It wasn’t right. You saw it in his eyes: the want painted there, however burdened by shame they might’ve been. No doubt seeing your childhood bedroom had kicked the guilt into overdrive, reminding him, plainly, that he was his age, and you were yours. And his best friend’s kid. The irises that shone in the glow of warm white fairy lights overhead flitted to the canopy where they hung. Joel sized up the mesh overtaking most of your bed, all flowing and girlish and juvenile as it cascaded from the four wooden posters, and he had to shake his head. He blinked faster, as if trying to rid himself of some thought.
“I’ll go,” he choked out.
“Alright.”
You unzipped your dress and let it fall to the bed the second Joel had started to turn. He stopped. Got himself an eyeful and probably could’ve bruised every fingertip from how hard he tightened his grip along his belt loops.
He watched you slip out of the fabric, then brush it aside. Clothed in just your bra and panties, you went to the nightstand and opened a drawer. You leaned down.
And, while you kneeled and bent over to reach, Joel was afforded a too-perfect view of the wet patch in the fabric between your legs. You could’ve sworn you heard a groan before you crawled back over to the place where you’d been—American Spirits and a lighter now in your hand.
“Where’d you…” Joel started, only to lose his train of thought the moment you sat and unclasped your bra.
You lit up, comfortably. Nodding to the window.
“Mind opening that?” you asked him.
Joel stood back and stared. He squared his shoulders, seeming poised to say ‘no,’ when his gaze dropped lower.
“Those’ll kill you.” But he was just looking at your breasts
Reluctantly, he moved from where he’d fixed himself at the center of your room and walked over to the window. He slid the pane up, but he didn’t let his gaze stray from you too long. As soon as the smoke found a place to go, he turned. He shook his head again. You smiled, then.
“These are yours,” you replied. You bared your teeth at him with the cigarette in between them, teasing a little.
After, you closed your lips and inhaled once. You blew a breath through your nose and let the smoke trail out. Joel scowled as he took a step closer to your bed.
Somewhere downstairs Tommy had cranked the game up louder. You could hear the blare of fanfare and a booming, cheery voice announcing a first down.
Meanwhile, Joel’s jaw hadn’t flinched. His lips were still curled in that sour, unsightly grimace. He had to have gotten a good deal of practice doing that while you were away, with every text, call, and FaceTime you’d declined over the past month, you imagined. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of being ignored as it was getting smoke blown into his face that made him irritated. Galled, even.
Joel made a pass for your mouth as if to take the cigarette away, but you were too quick. You slid back.
“Finders keepers,” you chided, trying not to giggle.
“Give it.”
“Make me.”
“Kid, don’t start.”
Joel’s face was turning pink as he leaned in again. In no more than a second, though, you’d made it safely out of his reach. He had to plant a knee on your bedspread, grit his teeth even tighter, and stretch his frame further in, and just when he’d gotten within half a foot from where you sat perched at the head of the bed, you felt a snap.
Or perhaps heard a groan and surmised the rest. Joel cursed, ‘Fuck!’ then fell to his elbow, hissing with pain.
He gripped his side, and he winced. Your eyes went wide.
“Joel?”
The cigarette fell from your lips; as soon as it did, Joel swept a brusque, graceless touch in your direction. He held tight to his side while he swatted the thing away. The second the still-lit stick hit the covers, Joel had it brushed to the side, sending it flying off of your bed.
His nostrils flared when he stood again. He crushed the cigarette underfoot. He looked pleased—then pained.
“Joel!” you hissed. This time reaching for him, and catching him narrowly before he lurched into your bed.
“‘M’alright. Stop, stop. It’s okay.”
Joel grunted, low. He held one bedpost. He clutched somewhere on his body close to the small of his back, and you could tell he felt a strain. He noticeably tensed.
“I’m fine.” And then he was starting to wave you off, too, “Lifetime of smoking’ll do that to you. And turning forty.”
You believed him. What you wouldn’t accept was how fast he tried to bend down and retrieve the cigarette from the floor. His cheeks flushed red with the effort.
And just when he’d started to tilt, you tugged him back.
You gripped his shirt and yanked him onto the bed.
Maybe that wasn’t the best for the muscle he’d pulled. At any rate, though, it was better than straining another by trying to pick up a cigarette butt, you reasoned. You hadn’t even jerked him that hard, and your bed was soft. Joel fell with a thud amidst a sea of satin, plush faux fur, a half-dozen pillows, and a mound of stuffed animals. His lips frowned as if annoyed, but the eyes betrayed relief. He breathed out a shallow puff of air once he’d settled.
“You need to stop smoking.” Grumbling now, of course.
You wanted to pinch the pout clean off his mouth.
“Yeah, really, Joel? You first,” you shot back.
“I’m old.”
“No shit.”
“Watch it.”
For someone who’d practically thrown out his back just bending at the waist, Joel Miller loved to wax poetic on the dangers of Big Tobacco. And getting old. By the time he groaned and laid flat, you decided you’d had enough of this sexless intermission, and you straddled his hips.
“Wh—” Joel huffed in protest, pushing at hands all too eager to act on his belt, “You still haven’t answered me.”
“What was the question?” you returned, careless.
But you knew it clear as day: Are we alright?
The old man didn’t stop the path of your hands, but he certainly made a show to try and pretend to stall their speed. He watched, curiosity piqued and shame still roiling in his gut, and he let you unbuckle, unzip, and finally free him from the confines of his briefs. He sighed.
It was then that you felt him hard against your palm, firm as he was before. Your mouth watered even more. When your eyes flitted up to his for permission, you didn’t expect to find resistance there, so the subsequent grip around your wrist took you back. Joel seized hold of your hand in his, and, rather than stopping you completely, he paused it in place. Sank your touch into his groin, as though tempting you with the outline of his bare length.
That was cruel. He knew what feeling him did to you.
“You know exactly what question I meant.”
What such a move would do to any girl in your position—freshly fucked and eager for more—and in your bed, no less. You didn’t care for the guilt Joel harbored today; he didn’t get to demand answers you weren’t ready to give.
“What? Feeling bad for boning your friend’s kid all of a sudden?” You smiled, voice devoid of any humor as you tried to pivot subjects, “Didn’t look like that downstairs.”
Shame flared in Joel’s eyes. Two could play at this game.
His grip tightened around your wrist, and he kept it still. In spite of this hold, you were able to flex your fingers the tiniest bit and take him snugly in your hand. He held you, and you held him, and for the next few excruciating moments, that was all either of you could do. Until:
“I would do it again.”
And then Joel’s touch was moving yours. Rubbing him. Seizing your hip with his free hand and rocking you back.
Making you hold his gaze while his dick swelled bigger.
“I don’t care if that’s wrong,” he added through his teeth.
“Wrong,” you mumbled absently. Touching him more.
It was as though you both were rooted in place by warring feelings—Joel by guilt, and you by knowing. Needing each other, and being unable to break apart. Words flowed like molasses; their end was no less sweet.
“I’d fuck you anywhere you asked if you would just—” Joel broke off suddenly, taking a breath, “Forgive me.”
Please.
The eyes beneath yours were pained with remorse.
You squeezed him tighter, and you stared more carefully.
“Here?” It left you more like a breath.
“Here.”
Your skull still buzzed. Your vision still wavered some. You could scarcely hope to know what it was that made this man a worse intoxicant than every drink you’d guzzled that morning, but the way he reached for your body and slid you back in the bed made answers pointless anyway. All you needed to know was that he wanted you, too. You could sort out the rest of it later; you let him lie you down
Joel was out of place here, that much was obvious. Clearly, no man skating through middle age belonged in the bedroom of a girl as young as you—and that was overlooking the paternal connection altogether—but all the same, he guided you back. Trailed your body with his. If it weren’t for the greys and the striations on his face and the legions of freckles bred from decades spent baking under the sun, he might’ve struck you as a much younger man. His every move now seemed to show it.
His hands shook like yours had earlier.
He watched you slide under the covers, then swallowed.
“Still cold?”
“Yeah.”
He gave you a long look, as though considering what to say. You beckoned him over and decided to talk for him.
“Like father, like daughter, I guess,” you added. Teasing.
You could hear the groan start to bubble in his throat, but Joel let you pull him in. He climbed under the sheets.
Like a much younger, doubly nervous teen around his date past curfew, he slotted between your legs with a moment’s indecision. He shed his clothes but was slow. Your gaze flitted to his torso, then his legs, and watching him gingerly undress, you couldn’t help but grin a little.
Both of you were naked in under a minute. Joel’s body was like a furnace searing hot between your thighs.
And while you smiled at him, he frowned down at you.
You might’ve expected anything next, except hearing:
“We aren’t gonna be parents anytime soon, right?”
You choked.
“What?”
Joel blinked.
“The Plan B, I mean,” he went on, color crawling up to his cheeks. He blinked harder, like he’d been dreading this, “Wasn’t sure if you ever got your…yeah. Just wonderin’.”
Just wondering.
After Joel’s Cenozoic-era condom had broken the first time you two had ever fucked, you realized you hadn’t bothered to tell him if you ended up getting your period. He’d probably been trying to ask that over the course of several dozen unanswered texts and calls the last month, but you’d been radio silent. Your drinking today had to have given the truth away, but you still felt a pang of guilt
You admired his sincerity. You didn’t want to mock it.
But when your lips twitched the tiniest bit, Joel’s did too. He’d heaved a sigh of relief before you’d even answered him in words, and for a moment, things were easy again.
“I’m sorry, Miller. That probably had you scared shitless.”
“It did.”
And, under most other circumstances, you probably would’ve expected him to chastise you for it a little. Chide you for your immaturity and shake his head, because this was always how it went. But he didn’t.
Joel smiled back instead, and he kissed your forehead.
You blinked, shortly summoning words to try and deflect.
“I mean, like…can you even imagine us having a kid?”
“I can’t. I think I’d be…” Joel trailed off, at a loss.
“Pissed to be changing diapers in your fifties, I bet,” you finished for him, and that made him laugh. You joined in, grinning, and for a second you almost forgot he was still between your legs. His cock softened against your belly.
“You’d be a hot mom. I’d be an old dad,” he countered, suddenly lowering his face to kiss and nuzzle your neck. When the ebbs of your laughter were renewed in a fit of giggles, and your feet kicked helplessly under the covers as he used his mouth and hands to tickle you then, you had to choke through your words—‘Joel, stop, I mean it.’
“Ticklish and hot, I forgot.”
His fingers were relentless on your ribs. You kicked again.
“Don’t fucking test me. I—I will kick you out,” you warned
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on, then.”
Evidently, the thought of ordering him back downstairs with your dad and Tommy seemed like the least likely outcome at the moment, so Joel kept tickling you. He moved his lips to your ear, about to whisper something stupid and teasing, most likely, when you jerked yourself the other way. You slid just far enough to reach off the bed. While you clawed at your nightstand, Joel simply draped his body over yours and went on kissing and touching and relishing the sounds you were making—even while you were cursing his name under your breath.
“Go. Go. Enough of this shit, Miller,” you finally told him, nudging Joel back and waving something in his face.
“Wh—”
“Since getting knocked up is the last thing either of us wants, and we’ve been terrible about playing it safe…”
It didn’t take long for Joel to recognize what it was. As soon as he’d lifted his head to ogle it, you didn’t let him stare at the box of condoms for more than a second or two before tearing it open. Its seal had still been intact.
“New stash for someone special?” Joel hummed, low.
“Nope. Just you.”
Your old friend didn’t seem to appreciate that remark, returning your smirk with a roll of his eyes, but he took the metallic-wrapped rubber when you offered him one anyway. He tore off the top. He probably would’ve liked to put the thing on, but with all the time and brainless banter that had passed, he had to get himself hard again. He eyed you once, and, wrapping a hand around himself semi-erect, he seemed to want to say something more.
You wouldn’t let him. You kissed him, and he kissed back, and with your legs sliding around the backs of his own underneath the soft, warm sheets, he probably forgot what he was going to say. Your lips and tongues intertwined without needing those words to be spoken, and before long, Joel was growing harder. He sucked in a breath when your hand reached down to touch him, soft.
Joel grunted when your touch replaced his. While you stroked his length, you could see the muscles tense in his stomach. The heft of his belly was smooth, and firm, and protruding with little patches of black and grey hairs, and the man looked so undone already with just your fingers curling over his shaft. You would’ve held him that way for as long as he asked. Would’ve relished the warmth of him in your hand, the way his breaths grew more ragged as he kissed you and let you pump him gently between your body and his. You might’ve mistaken it for something romantic when he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, before pulling away and mumbling, ‘That’s it. That feels real good, sweetheart. You’re doin’ so good.’ But being the way you were, you couldn’t accept such intimacy without wanting to shy away. You pushed his words aside and reached for the condom in his hand, swallowing thickly as you did.
The latex went on quickly. Joel hardly seemed of a mind to try and slow things down with his body just as taut, on edge, and desperate as yours. He planted an arm beside your head, and you guided his length between your legs. It felt cozy. Tender. Nervous like this could’ve been your first. A little strange seeing how you’d done this multiple times before—had started it just downstairs, against a wall and on the couch—and somehow, felt different now.
Joel sank in, and both of you groaned.
“I missed you, baby.”
It came from him all in the same breath. Your walls clenched, and he said it again. You peered up at the man, half-expecting to see his eyes shut and the feeling of you guiding his words more than anything else—he hadn’t meant you, but what was between your legs. But when you looked, you met his gaze. Joel was earnest, clearly.
“Did you miss me?” he panted, hips dragging back.
With the head of his cock drawn all the way up to your entrance, tip stretching that soft, sticky flesh, you could scarcely do more than whimper. You laced your fingers together behind his neck, felt him push in again, and suddenly, the sensations churning low in your gut got warmer. Stronger. They made you want to hold on longer
He felt so big inside you. Overwhelming you with his size and his scent and the way his lips trailed over yours while he fucked you; it all seemed too much to give a response.
Joel kissed you again, and your bodies fell into a rhythm. You squeezed his neck, let out a breathy whine when his cock grazed something soft and sensitive between your walls, and then pulled away fully to look down and watch.
He did too. He kissed the crown of your head, mumbling:
“See how good we fit?”
Those words could’ve sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered at the next thrust, feeling the warmth of his breath still fanning across your face, and you nodded.
Your eyes all but glazed over as you watched Joel’s big, glistening cock disappear and reappear from inside your body, coated with your arousal and the rubber and looking every bit as dizzyingly good as it had before. The wet noises only increased in volume the more he sped up, and with the need blossoming in your stomach, you had no choice but to moan. Joel plunged even deeper.
“Did she miss me, at least? Did she miss her daddy?”
Your walls clenched at those words—‘she,’ ‘daddy.’
Still, you couldn’t speak. You just nodded back.
Joel’s motions grew stronger, and with every stroke inside you, his cock hit something plush and sweet. You had to bite your lip to keep the sounds from coming out too loud, but the effort was almost wholly in vain. The harder he went, the more your throat came to betray you. The more Joel seemed keen on getting you to speak.
“Feels like she does, hon,” he said, tone dulcet and low, “Pussy’s been squeezin’ like she needed daddy here.”
That was true. Your heels dug deeper in his ass, and you felt something tender swell up inside, almost painfully.
Joel was moving your whole frame with the weight of his thrusts—your body bouncing beneath him, the bed creaking under the force, your old childhood room being filled with the sounds of your blooming pleasure and his. Your cunt stretched even more; it begged to be fucked deeper. Though your mouth couldn’t form the words, it seemed Joel was more than able to make out the rest.
He brought his thumb to your clit. He rubbed it, then caught your lips in a hot, steady kiss when a whimper from yours was just about to threaten to tremble out.
“Atta girl,” he grunted against your mouth, “That’s it.”
His hips worked faster. His thumb moved with even more precision, more persistence, as though begging your pleasure to come. You could feel the sweat bead on your skin and his; your bodies seemed to blend together. Your legs tightened around his sides, and while he fucked you and kissed you more fervidly then, you could feel your resolve start to slip. You broke from the kiss, panting.
“I can feel her, honey. Keep goin’,” Joel urged.
You weren’t sure if you could. It felt good.
It felt safe. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
Or maybe just since you’d been away.
You thought of the last, vulnerable state you’d been forced to endure—feeling hurt and betrayed after Joel had lied trying to keep you ‘safe’—and your body tensed. You held tighter, but you also couldn’t lose that feeling completely. You were so close, and there was still something else you couldn’t yet define, or explain.
“Cum for me, baby,” Joel kissed the side of your mouth, knowing the feeling coursing through your body too well, “Take what you need. Just let her feel good. It’s all okay.”
All okay.
Your walls fluttered again; your moans grew breathy and faint as Joel’s cock wedged deeper and deeper and his kisses grew softer along your face. It was evident you were there—you knew you were there—but then, the way you felt was like no place you’d ever experienced before.
You wanted to tell him something.
You met Joel’s gaze, and you almost did. Then he withdrew and fucked back in, and all words were lost.
The headboard thumped against the wall; you didn’t hear it. Joel’s one free hand was cradling your cheek, and his face drew closer, and right when you sensed the man was about to drop another kiss, you felt release, at last.
A snap.
A dizzying blow.
Your climax struck with all the force of a seismic wave, and, at the same time, you could feel Joel groaning, pulsing, spurting thick ropes of cum into rubber while his gaze stayed locked on yours and your body came apart. The look from him was sickeningly soft, even at his peak.
Intimate, again.
You couldn’t help it.
With your legs trembling, cunt spasming, and eyes still plastered to Joel’s, you felt that something resurface. This time, you didn’t have a hope of keeping it inside.
“I— I— I love you, Joel. I love you,” you stuttered out.
Your voice was tight. Your eyes burned with tears you hadn’t even sensed might threaten to appear with it.
You broke down and felt the sudden urge to sob.
And, just as quickly as you did, you shoved him off.
Regret flooded your chest. You shouldn’t have said that.
Joel was slow to move, no matter how much you tried getting him away. He was still in your bed, crowding your space—and worse yet, he was staring at you, eyes wide.
“Baby—”
“Don’t.” Your gaze was still wider. Wild. And remorseful, “I didn’t— I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to say that.”
Joel had pulled out, but he was still between your legs. You slid backward in the bed, cheeks flaming with heat.
He followed.
He reached out.
“Please don’t,” you begged, shaking your head before his touch could find you. Your pulse thundered in your skull.
The sound almost drowned all other noises out.
At the next, you wished it would deafen you completely.
“I love you, too, baby,” Joel said.
No sooner had his palms come to rest on your face when you were shoving them away. Standing up from the bed.
“You don’t mean that. I didn’t mean it. Just— just stop.”
“I—”
“Need to go.”
You hardly realized it, but you were pointing to the door.
Joel was just getting the condom off, about to stand up from where he was, when a new sound startled you both.
The garage door was closing. Tommy shouted your name saying he needed help bringing something in, and for a second, you both froze. It was happening all over again.
You knew you couldn’t risk getting caught another time. Not with your father in the house, unconscious or not. Silently, you thanked your lucky stars for the opportunity afforded by this moment—getting Joel out—and bent to grab his clothes off the floor and throw them, one by one. He dressed, albeit reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were busy racing to throw on your own clothes, thinking of ways to get him out unnoticed. You heard the door to the garage slam shut downstairs.
“He’s gonna be back any minute. You need to go, Joel.”
“Come with me. We have to talk—”
“I have nothing else to say.”
“But you—”
“I lied. And so did you. Just like before,” you gritted out, “You can spare my feelings—I didn’t fucking mean it.”
He felt bad, that was all. You could see it in his eyes.
The pity, the self-loathing, the guilt; it was all there.
The sight made your stomach turn, and though your legs weren’t steady or sure underneath you in the slightest, you knew you had to go. If Joel didn’t intend on making things easier, you would have to leave first. You felt him reach for you, saw the plea in his eyes and knew how wrong this really was—that you had both fucked up—and couldn’t stay there. Again, you wrenched yourself away.
You didn’t give him the chance to protest. You heard words, dimly, but barely had the sense or self-possession to process one syllable of it, so you left. You bounded down steps, pulse hammering even louder than before, and you didn’t think to turn around or let Joel follow or even remotely allow yourself to stop feeling embarrassed
Leaving was for the best anyway.
If Joel had lied once, he’d lie again.
Downstairs, you cleaned. You folded laundry.
Joel had snuck out a while ago, having slipped from your room, down to the kitchen, and out the back door while Tommy was busy retrieving beer out of the garage. You’d gone down there to distract the younger Miller brother while Joel packed his shit up and left. Like he was meant to do. Luckily, Joel’s departure was quiet, and Tommy was all too happy to have some help toting cases of Budweiser inside. Your dad and Tess were still fast asleep
And now, nearly half an hour later, you had only to sweep the hardwood floor, fold your clothes, and busy yourself as best you could—or else grit your teeth so hard you could’ve broken your jaw. You were so fucking dumb.
“Almost done?” Tommy poked his head inside the room.
You’d told Joel you hated him last month. One measly fuck and you’re spewing, ‘I love you’? What the fuck?
“Just about,” you replied, dropping an old shirt of your dad’s into the nearest, neatest pile, “You heading out?”
Tommy jingled his car keys in his hand and hummed to say that he was. He had a happy, Alabama-just-beat-the-shit-out-of-Tennessee smile on his face as he stood there
“Yeah, I’m going back to Mando’s now to celebrate and watch another game. Was wondering if you wanted to come along,” he said, leaning against the door frame.
“I would, I’ve just got so much shit to do around here—” Gesturing indistinctly to the mountains of clothing stacked high all about the laundry room, “—cleaning.”
Beating yourself over the head, mentally, for ever telling his older brother that you liked him in the first place. Wishing you could crawl in a hole and wallow alone.
“Aww, that can wait. You’re here the whole week—”
“I know. But I gotta keep an eye on my old man, too.”
You rubbed at your face and pretended to get re-invested in a pair of socks with two gaping holes. Your father wouldn’t discard old, ratty clothes to save his life.
Then Tommy was at your side. Pressing against the washing machine and watching you work. Smirking.
“By ‘your old man’ do you mean your dad…or Joel?”
For the second time that day, you almost choked. You tried not to let it show but were sure you failed miserably.
“I— I— what?” you huffed, all terse, feigned incredulity.
“Don’t play stupid. Only suits my dumbass brother,” Tommy returned coolly, turning to face you head-on, “You sound just like him whenever I ask about you.”
“Whatever he’s said—” you started again.
“I heard his truck hightailing it out of here while you came down to distract me. Heard his footsteps, too.”
While your cheeks warmed, Tommy’s smile only grew.
“Aaaaand the headboard was bangin’ pretty loud—”
“Alright!” You threw your hands up, “Fine. OK. Enough.”
Your surrender was fast, far too grossed out to fight it.
You closed your eyes and wanted to die. From next to you, you could hear Tommy’s amusement morph into laughter. It didn’t take much to wring the truth out of you, and for a man who knew you as well as he did, there was really no telling where this would end. Once Tommy Miller called bullshit, there was rarely ever room to argue.
The last time that had happened, he’d sent you and Joel packing to abstinence camp and had never looked back.
Why he was finding humor in this now was beyond you.
You dropped the socks you were holding. You shot him a look as if to ask him just that, and the man shrugged.
“I know y’all skipped out on camp. Could’ve guessed there was some sort of fight between you two after that, because I’ve never seen Joel so goddamn grumpy for—”
“Yeah, well,” you cut in, not wanting to hear the rest, “That’s over now. Seriously. Today was just a fluke.”
Before he could even try to voice his disbelief, you added:
“Just don’t tell my dad about this. Please.”
By the look in his eyes, you could tell that was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but you asked it all the same. Tommy scoffed, and then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest like he couldn’t believe a word you were saying now. Like a smug big brother who didn’t know how else to say that you made a terrible liar.
Because that was what he’d been to you before you ever got with Joel in the first place: a good, no-bullshit friend. The recognition of this made you feel even worse inside.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said at length, much to your surprise.
His arms constricted even tighter against his chest and his eyes scanned yours thoughtfully before continuing.
“I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in y’all’s business. What you and Joel do is up to you—I just hated the thought of things, uh…going south. Making it weird between you.”
“Like now,” you said quietly.
A beat.
Tommy scratched his neck.
“Yeah, a little like that,” he replied, breathing out a laugh, “But that’s alright. Joel’s my brother, and I love him, but the man can’t navigate a relationship to save his life. Much less with a girl your age. So just…keep that in mind. I don’t wanna see either of you getting hurt.”
In other words: don’t be stupid and get attached.
‘You’re right,’ was all you knew to say. All you felt capable of telling him now, after what had come to pass that day.
Frankly, you didn’t need to speak another word to get the gist of what he meant, and like he’d said, it wasn’t on him to dictate how you handled things with Joel. The message was clear enough, and the truth was all there.
You couldn’t make this work.
Joel wouldn’t make this work with a girl as young as you.
He’d only said what he said today out of habit—a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t know what the fuck else to say when his best friend’s kid he’d been banging spilled out ‘I love you.’ And you didn’t blame him for it. But you also couldn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t when all this was ever supposed to be was a casual fuck here and there. You’d been confused and needing to feel safe. He had wanted access to something he shouldn’t have, and now that the thrill of that was wearing off, he felt trapped and cornered into saying what he had, for your sake. The best thing for the two of you now was a clean break, before any more feelings got muddled and misspoken and brought to anything worse than they already were.
It would suck for a while. You knew it would. The next second had you leaning in unconsciously, watching Tommy uncross his arms and pull you in for a hug.
This would really suck.
You buried your face in his chest.
There wasn’t much to say; still, Tommy said it best:
“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”
#OBLIGATORY ‘TURKEY AIN’T THE ONLY THING GETTING STUFFED’ TAG#NEEDTHAT#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
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a post patrol report on the Manor back steps, observed by Bruce Wayne:
Dick: yeah so I found Jason on my way back home from patrol—
Jason, who’s been chain smoking since Dick put him down: you didn’t find me. I flagged you down.
Dick: because you were in a trash can and couldn’t get out.
Jason: are you — oh my god, I’m too hungover for this shit.
Dick: you’re not hungover, you’re concussed.
Jason, blowing smoke everywhere: same thing
Dick: NO. not the same thing!
#this came to me in a dream#fic scrap#I keep getting tagged in last line challenges so#enjoy#bruce wayne#batman#dc#Jason todd#dick grayson#red hood#nightwing#crack
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something new | luca x reader
i was awoken from a dream last night
contents: requested size kink so luca is hung!! basically pwp, slight somnophilia if you squint, unprotected sex, spanking, lots of pet names from Luca, reader receiving fingering, dirty talk, semi-submissive reader vibes, pulling out for backshots but some cum play still whoops
a/n: used a photo of will bc it fit the vibe so well 🌝 can we, as a fandom, decide a last name for this man!! only semi proof read i fear pls ignore any mistakes. also no pronouns or real reader description used.
contents: 2.7k.
the climax right before morning's first light
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Your body feels heavy as it’s pulled from a deep sleep.
There’s warm lips on your shoulder placing soft kisses along your skin, a hand kneading at your ass while you wake up. You hum into the quiet room while burying your face into the pillow desperately not ready to wake up. “S’everything okay?”
Luca’s chuckling against you, sliding his calloused hand up the back of your thigh while you stay lying on your stomach. He looks down at the sight of you illuminated in the moonlight from his apartment window, soaking in every inch. His hand cups under the bottom of your behind, giving it a little jiggle for his own entertainment.
“All’s fine, my love. Didn’t mean to wake you so early.”
You turn your head towards the nightstand and it takes a few blinks for your eyes to finally focus on the dim clock. 3:30 AM. Early enough for him to get up to shower, make tea, and leave out a small note of affection on the counter for when you wake up at a much more reasonable time. He typically doesn’t wake you, opting to shimmy out of the bed but not this morning.
There’s lips on your neck now. “Was dreaming about you and had to make sure you were real.” His hand is sliding in between your thighs now, pulling them apart. Inches away from where you’re starting to crave him. You’re whining in the pillow now while arching your hips up towards his touch. He’s grinning against your skin and rocking himself towards your side. Luca’s hard and heavy against you. “Gonna go take care of this in the bathroom. Just needed a little touch of you before I go.”
You’re shaking your head now, trying to unpin your arm that’s trapped between the two of you so you can find the waistband of his sweats slung low on his waist. “No, no. Don’t go.” The elastic is tight against your fingers as you slip your hand into his pants, fingertips brushing along his growing length which rewards you with a moan from your boyfriend. His hand gently slaps down on the flesh of your ass before he starts to pull away. You murmur out protests as you stretch your arms out straight ahead of you, fingers curling around the edge of the bed. There’s a rush of cold air as he pulls the blanket from your frame and tosses it to the empty side of the bed.
He’s grabbing a pillow next and tapping his fingers against your side, grinning as you take the hint and lift your hips for him. “Just lay there, Darling. Let me take care of you.” Luca makes sure you’re comfortable. Taking his time to fluff the pillow just right. Running his wide hands down your back while still lazily waking up. The bed creaks under the two of you as he moves to kneel between your spread legs. He admires your stretched out form. The curve of your ass propped up and his for the taking. You’re wearing an oversized cliche t-shirt from the last trip you took together and this old pair of underwear with a half worn off print. Not the sexiest outfit to ever grace this bedroom to say the least and yet Luca doesn’t mind in the slightest.
His thumbs slide along the seam of your underwear that’s stretched across your cheeks, warm hands sliding up your backside to your lower back to gently work on your relaxed body. He leans forward to reach up towards your shoulders, the length of him sliding against your ass and eliciting a moan from you. Luca’s taking advantage of this position to rut himself against you, the feeling of your soft body under him working him up even more than he thought was possible.
“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” You’re nodding against the pillow, turning your head to the side to press a kiss against the hands that are now on your shoulders. “Only yours, Luca.” He’s groaning above you and there’s warm, open mouth kisses being pressed along your spine now.
There’s a shuffling coming from behind you as Luca makes quick work of kicking his sweatpants off. You feel the warmth of his skin directly on the inside of your thighs now as he sits back up. He’s crooking fingers in the waistband of your underwear and finally, finally pulling them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to him. They’re stuck right above your knees - Both Luca kneeling between your legs and how far spread open you are making it impossible for them to go any lower. “Are you passionate about these?”
You barely shake your head no, because again they’re old and worn and you find it endearing he even asked, before the sound of them being ripped off of you fills the room causing you to gasp out. Luca haphazardly tosses them towards the trash can in the corner and gets to work pulling his own boxes down. You’re needy. Wiggling your hips through the air in slow movements to entice him. As if he needed anymore motivation. You follow his guidance and haphazardly make work taking off your shirt, balling it up and throwing it on his now empty side of the bed.
Since Luca’s doing all the work you allow yourself to stay, essentially, half asleep. Your eyes are still heavy and hooded and your body lax against the bed. He’s delivering one more small smack to the roundest part of your ass before his fingers find their way between your thighs. Normally he’d take more time teasing you, building you up. As much as he yearns to spend the whole day tangled in you, he does have to get to work soon. For now he’s going to be quick but he plans on taking his time with you again tonight.
There’s fingers sliding up either side of your folds, a slow languid motion to get you used to his touch before his middle fingers slips in. You’re slackjaw against the pillow, letting out a stream of breathy whimpers you can’t control. Luca knows you. Knows every inch of you. So he’s using that knowledge to get you ready for him. His pointer finger slides into you while his thumb finds your clit at the same time. You’re wet, the scissoring and dragging motions Luca’s making causing a slick sound to come from between your thighs.
“Luca, please.” He grins down at your backside, enjoying the view of his fingers working deep inside of you. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?” You respond by rocking your hips back against his hand and clenching down against his fingers which causes him to chuckle. “Alright, alright.” His hand slides out of you and smacks down against the back of your thigh. Your left behind wetness from his fingers attracts the cold air and causes goosebumps to rise.
You secretly like when Luca spends a little less time stretching you out then he probably should. The way your boyfriend stretches you out as he first pushes in you has become a piece of heaven. There are nights he spends as long as you’ll allow eating you out and fingering you, toying with your pussy for his own enjoyment. Leaving his chin wet with you and a darken spot on the sheets until he fucks through how sloppy he’s turned you.
Not tonight. You’re wet, yes. But you know there’s going to be a heavenly burning feeling coming your way. The amount of care your boyfriend puts into you making you comfortable enough to open yourself in that way. Knowing he’d stop the second you asked if needed.
The head of his cock sits heavy against your entrance and you feel yourself desperately clenching around nothing. He’s pulling you from your train of thought and your body is buzzing in anticipation. The slap of the tip of him against your clit causes your body to jerk which prompts Luca to use his free hand to grip your hip, holding you in place. “Be good, yeah? Let me get us off before I gotta go. Can’t have you wet all day waiting for me to come back home to take care of you.” Luca lines himself up with your hole, sliding just the tip of himself in which pulls a moan from both of you.
“Baby, please.” Pride swells in Luca’s chest as you start to beg. If he hadn’t been gripping your hips then you would have rolled them back to take more of his length in you. Instead he goes slow, allowing you to adjust to his girth inch by inch. Even after dating for this long, you still weren’t used to him yet.
There’s a bit of drool coming from the corner of your still parted lips as Luca works his length in. Your boyfriend was well endowed to say the least. A good length, something you could still take to the back of your throat but not so long you couldn’t sink all the way down it. But his girth? That was unmatched. Thick, heavy, and all yours.
“Feel so amazing, Darling. Was dreaming about this pussy spreading around me.” Luca jerks another inch in without warning, a squelching sound coming from you as the movement causes some wetness to drip out. You can’t form a thought when he’s got you like this. Your body is still relaxed against the bed as Luca stretches you out.
It takes a moment for him to bottom out and all your mind can focus on is just how deep he feels inside of you. The sensation causes your breath to catch, pathetically letting out whatever whimper you can muster and allowing him to use you to his heart’s content. Luca gives your hip a little squeeze as a warning he’s going to start moving, giving you a second to accept what’s to come before the first roll of his hips hits.
You’re a mess. Groggy still, already becoming cock drunk. It’s easy to do with him. “S’full, Luc. So, so full.” Even with his brows knitted in concentration as he tries not to instantly cum at the sight of your pussy stretched around him, he’s proud to get you this way.
But God does the sight of you already have him close.
Stretched out around him, filled to the max you could be. You look so beautiful like that. Luca fucks through all the wetness you give him, hips building a steady rhythm easily. His eyes flash over towards the clock and something about the pressure of a time constraint is making him a bit more feral than he expected.
His pace quickens and you’re back to being reduced to a drooling mess under him. Moaning out an incoherent string of pleas, praise, and curses. You couldn’t repeat what’s coming from your mouth even if you tried. His heavy balls slap against your clit which each thrust and Luca’s grabbing your hips with both hands now to get a better grip on you. Fingertips digging in enough that bruises will be left as he starts to fuck into with a firm pace.
“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy. So wet for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna be sore all day now but you don’t care. Every step’s gonna remind you how good I fuck you.”
Your head is spinning.
You allow yourself to be fucked by Luca, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you desperately clutch anything within reach to keep yourself grounded. He’s… Brutal. Fucking you for his own pleasure in a way. He needed to get off and get off quick before work - But arrogantly knew how good you were for him. Knew that him using you like this would get you off too.
One of his hands gripping your hip loses his grip and there’s another smack being delivered to the fat of your ass. He groans at the sight of you bouncing, the red mark already blooming from his hand. The burning of being stretched out is fading away and being replaced by the pure pleasure of your boyfriend wrecking your body.
His hand is sliding up from your ass to press down on the small of your back, a comforting touch compared to the brutal pace of his hips. Long forgotten is the sleepy mask of morning, Luca just chasing after pleasure for the both of you now. You purposely flutter yourself around his length, trying to pull him closer as well.
“Can you come for me, Darling? You can do that, can’t you? Wanna feel this pretty little pussy finish before I do.” You’re squeezing yourself tighter around him now, the soft pillowcase feeling rougher as your face continues to bounce against it. The room is getting hotter by the second around you two.
Something about the combination of circumstances has you getting close to finishing far faster than normal. You catch yourself biting down on the pillow as Luca drags his nails down the soft skin of your back, his hips not losing pace as the all too familiar sensation starts to coil up deep inside of you.
You’re crying out at the sensation, pussy tightening around him as your orgasm rocks through your body. Toe curling, back arching, clit throbbing orgasm. You collapse even further into the bed, a mess of breathless whimpers as Luca continues to fuck through your sensitive body. God you sound lewd with how wet you ended up.
Luca’s quick to follow after watching you come undone around him.
He’s moaning out your name, giving a few more pumps through your wetness before quickly pulling out. Stroking his soaked length to keep the sensation and then you feel warmth splattering along your ass and back as he cums on you. He’s breathless and whiney, teasing his own overstimulated cock behind you. Thumb swiping along his tip to collect the last droplets before wiping it in-between your folds and pressing it into you.
As much as he loved cumming in you, he wanted to make sure he had time to get you cleaned up before he had to leave but he still couldn’t leave you without anything left inside of you.
Luca drags you to the bathroom after he gives you a moment to collect yourself. Normally he’d take his time with aftercare but sadly he’s lacking just that - time. You use the restroom while he draws the two of you a shower and take a good look at yourself in the mirror while he corrects the water temperature. Healing hickies low on your chest, your hair looking crazy from the combination of sleeping and being wrecked. He’s got twenty minutes left before he runs out of time to make his breakfast but he refuses to leave you in a pile in the bed.
He makes quick work of washing off your over sensitive body, letting you stand there and run your fingers along his chest, his arms, whatever inch of skin you can reach. “You’re so pretty.”
Now after what just happened in the bedroom? You’d think nothing would phase him.
But Luca’s cheeks are going bright red at the compliment. He cups your face with his soapy hands, bringing you two together for a kiss as a silent thank you.
Luca gets you dried off and sends you back to bed with a pat on your ass. He’s rushing to get ready for work while you lay down in a lump on the bed. Towel tight around your body and the covers long forgotten. It takes a few minutes for him to emerge from the bathroom clothed and hair gelled but he can’t help laughing at the sight of you. You feel the towel being tugged away from your body, the previously discarded blanket being tucked around you and a kiss pressed to the top of your head.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
He leaves everything you need for your morning tea sitting on the counter before running out the door.
#now how am i supposed to tag this!!!#luca x reader#chef luca#chef luca x reader#luca x you#chef luca x you#chef luca smut#luca smut#the bear smut#the bear x reader#the bear x you#will poulter#will poulter smut#will poulter x reader#will poulter x you#adding other tags bc i fear no one knows his last name so it makes finding fics hard!!#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#richie jerimovich x you#richie jerimovich x reader#richie jerimovich smut
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more from my au, in which stan and bill have a reluctant agreement to build the portal (x)
bonus thought: they always tie in their card games, because they both know when the other is cheating and when the other is letting them win
[Image description: Fanart of Bill Cipher and Stanley Pines from "Gravity Falls." Alt text is provided and copied below the cut. End ID]
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Image one: Stan wears his Mr. Mystery outfit in the Shack, complete with an eyepatch and magic 8-ball cane. Bill nudges him, saying, "Ooh, eyepatch? How flattering!" Stan snarks back, "Can it, cyclops."
Image two: Bill and Stan float in a mindscape similar to Ford's, except they're playing cards on folding chairs and drink Pitt Colas.
Image three: In front of the broken portal, Stan sits on a toolbox with Journal 1 and other documents scattered in front of him. Bill hovers over his shoulder.
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#gravity falls#bill cipher#stanley pines#stan pines#digital art#artists on tumblr#doodleswithangie#500#1K#i should probably have a name for this au but i have nothing yet#copied tags from the last post ->#there’s probably already an au or fic out there (and if so i’d love to see it!)#to me stan would never do an a la carte deal with bill like ford did#so they have an agreement with forever changing stipulations based on whatever hurdle gets in their way#think beetlejuice (across all iterations) but with more vitriol
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nsfw ! — thinking about ellie using a strap for the first time. shes just so star struck by it, yet so confused. “it looks so confusing. like, how to people even do this?” she’s looking at herself in the mirror while trying, or failing miserably, at putting the harness on. she was excited to use it on you to make you feel good but she also wanted to know how people figured these things out so fast.
when she’s finally put it on properly with your help, she lays you down. shes taking her time with kissing you all over, marking you up and prepping you with her fingers. her fingers felt heavenly inside of you, and you’re begging her to let you cum but she removed her fingers before you did.
naturally, you pout at her angrily. “relax. the best part has yet to come.” she pats your thigh before littering kisses all over your face. and gosh, does she go the extra mile with making sure you’re okay. “you just need to tell me if you really want this.. cause i dont wanna make you like, uncomfortable.” “im sure ellie, im super sure.” she’s asked you the same question about five times now, but in her defense, she didnt wanna hurt you. after more reassurance, she slides it in slowly as if she were testing the waters.
if her fingers felt heavenly, then the feeling of her cock inside of you was otherworldly. she lets you adjust to the size before moving slowly. you encourage her and she begins moving faster, finding her rhythm. “fuck— you look so pretty right now,” she mumbled, soaking up the sight of her strap going in and out of you. “you’re doing so good for me.” her praises added another layer to the experience that has you whining and moaning so pretty for her. once shes comfortable with the consistency of her thrusts, her pace was even faster. it wasn’t long before she had you cumming all over her strap.
she made a mental note that seeing you with her strap nestled inside you makes her feral. ellie knew she’d be doing this again.
astrids notes: gentle ellie 4 life!!!! im a wee rusty cause i dont write so much anymore so pls dont flame me. 😓😓😓 i kinda hate this but this has been in my brain for days i literally needed to get it out before i forgot.
#nats-revival#- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌#tlou#the last of us#the last of us 2#the last of us part 2#tlou part 2#tlou2#ellie williams#tlou ellie#ellie smut#ellie x female reader#ellie x you#ellie x reader#ellie williams tlou#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou x reader#tlou fic#the amount of tags is egregious. it’s so embarrassing to tag this many times cause my reach is.. so very low..#anyways!! 😜 dusting off my pen yasss
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can't believe fnaf brought me out of art hibernation man what a turn of events
#my art#clou's art summary#dca fandom#fnaf security breach#art summary 2024#ayo rant in the tags#like everyone else on this planet my 2024 was tough haha#but it was really good artwise#ngl going back to drawing and being unapologetic about it irl was liberating#fr i met some real irl grinches since going to uni#the kind that make you feel bad about liking stuff other than work#i sorta felt ashamed at first and toned it down to focus solely on work#the fnaf dca worms were too strong though lmao#ngl this fandom is awesome#like#last time i checked what was going on in the arcane fandom and this place is a straight up warzone#also it turns out people work a lot better when they're happy how bizarre#no but really this fandom gave me a good deal of confidence in general :D#like YEA i love robots they're so cool how could anyone not like them#YEA i watch arcane every weekend even though i have mixed feelings about s2 it's a literal work of art#though some irl peps used to make me feel bad about enjoying stuff now whenever i meet one i feel sorry for them instead#especially when you ask them about THEIR hobbies instead and they answer 'idk tiktok?' like bruh#hey you#yeah you#if you're reading this don't feel ashamed of your interests#it's not worth it fr#go crazy have fun#draw that character you like#make a playlist for them#draft that fic you were thinking about
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#was looking for some fics with these two#I imagine this is one of their first interactions and Hunter is already fed up with Darius#but Darius is just trying to get to know the successor of his mentor and check if he's at least a little bit capable of doing his job#he's also a little weirded out by the similarity between these two#basically I imagine Darius gave him a couple of vibe checks that Hunter had failed#and Hunter takes it as questoning his place in the coven#god darius design is so pink and awful#it's so jover uni starts tommorow#it's like the most boring drawing ever but I'm just still in my I have to get better at backgrounds era#and also if I'll draw 100 awful things I get a decent one eventually#it's like inktober but lasts your whole life and devours your soul in the process#no caption just pure tags now I understand those few people who keep reblogging all my tags cuz I give all the fucking context there#there's probably like 10 things I would spot tommorow that would fix the drawing a whole bunch but I just ...don't want to ig#the owl house#sheerak#the golden guard#darius deamonne#hunter toh#toh hunter#hunter deamonne#toh fanart#the owl house fanart#dadrius#not yet but#you guys most fellow toh fanartists moved on and fanart fiona and cake but I keep brainrotting the same stuff over and over#good old toh trashpile
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JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k
Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.
Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.
A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏
Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive
Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST
You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.
You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.
Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.
Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.
“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?
“Hello, angel.”
His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,
“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”
“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.
He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.
“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.
“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”
Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.
“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”
You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,
“No, I‘m not.”
He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.
“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”
You scoff and he leans back against the seat.
“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”
You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.
For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.
Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.
“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.
“Look. At. Me.”
The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.
“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”
He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.
“What happened?”
Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.
”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”
“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.
Joel laughs.
“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”
“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”
“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”
“Whatever,” you grumble.
Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?
“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”
“What?”
Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.
You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.
Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,
“Here’s my needy slut.”
You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.
“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”
You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.
“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?
“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.
“Oh?”
”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”
Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.
”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”
“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.
“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”
You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”
Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.
“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”
Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,
“My truck. Now.”
You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.
The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.
Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.
”Wanna show you something.”
You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.
“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.
“No, Joel. Wait.“
You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.
“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?
“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”
You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.
“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”
“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.
“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”
You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.
“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”
“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”
You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.
“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.
He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”
You shoot him a playful wink.
“Aww. I’m flattered.”
“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”
“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.
The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.
Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.
“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”
He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.
A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.
His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.
“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”
You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.
“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.
“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”
You smirk and Joel continues,
“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”
Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,
“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.
“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”
Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.
Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,
“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”
It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.
“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”
“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”
You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.
But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.
“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.
“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”
Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.
“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”
“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”
“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”
Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.
“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.
Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.
Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.
“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”
”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.
”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”
“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”
You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.
“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”
Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.
“Ya like when I do this?”
”Yeah.”
“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”
He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.
With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.
“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,
“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”
He opens his eyes and smirks at you,
“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.
Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.
He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.
Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.
“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”
He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.
“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.
He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.
You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.
“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.
But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.
“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”
Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.
“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”
You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.
When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.
With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.
“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”
“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.
If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.
“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.
When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.
”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”
You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.
“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”
With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.
Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.
You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.
His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.
Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.
A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.
“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”
“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.
“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.
“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.
“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.
You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.
“Hey, baby.”
“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.
You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.
“I need the details, baby.”
You give Joel a wink and start talking.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST
Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury
General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk
#Milla’s birthday tag#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#my milla💖#joel miller x you#the last of us#joel miller fic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x f!reader#tommy miller#bad blood#bad blood series#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fan fiction
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the way y’all are SO afraid to write a woman closer to joel’s age in your fics is so telling. just saw one that was like “she is in her late thirties but don’t worry she looks 19”…… my loves, my sweet sweet loves….. if you are so afraid of aging just write a young reader. but I promise middle age isn’t contagious. u will not gain wrinkles from writing an older lady. consider not acting like women past thirty are one small breeze away from disintegrating into ancient ash please and thanks 🫶🏻
#and while I’m at it#tag your smut properly#i love you fic writers but something evil is afoot#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#the last of us#joel miller imagines
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PART ONE
summary: by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there's a dark side to them you didn't see before.
a speak no evil au - masterlist
notes: manipulative johnny & kyle, piv, noncon, somno, never explicitly acknowledged abusive relationship between reader and her husband (financial, physical, emotional, coercive control), drinking, murder, it's dead dove horror people!! heed the warnings
you picked at the buttery croissant on the plate in front of you, trying your best to block out the sound of your husband’s voice as it grew more frustrated by the minute. you pitied the poor soul he was berating on the other end of the line, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad enough to try and stop him, to turn his ire against you instead.
he wouldn’t listen to you anyway, hadn’t the first few times you’d asked when you’d first arrived on your honeymoon.
you scoffed quietly and shoved a bite into your mouth, chewing obstinately. two years late, but sure. your honeymoon.
elliot sighed heavily, and threw his phone down onto the table, rattling your coffee and gaining the attention of nearby hotel staff. “i work with fucking idiots, christ. how hard is it to follow instructions?”
“it’s why they keep you around, smartest one on your team,” you said appeasingly, the same rote answer you always gave him when he got in his moods.
“smartest one at the whole fucking firm more like,” he scoffed. you cringed at the scornful looks sent your way from the other couples on the retreat. “useless. the lot of them.”
the french riviera had been a dream destination for you for years, one elliot had known about from early in your dating days. the holiday he’d booked was all inclusive; tailored to honeymooners specifically with romantic activities on and off site and transport easily accessible in order to explore the area.
you felt as though you should’ve been having the time of your life as you sat eating breakfast looking over the beautiful beach view, but you’d never felt emptier. the sight of happy couples around you day after day had only highlighted your husband’s distance.
elliot had promised this trip would change things for you both, for your relationship, but the last six days had proven the opposite. if he wasn’t busy and distracted on his phone, elliot was complaining about the quality of the food, the amenities, even the bloody people.
it was too much and just the morning before you’d been tempted to ask him to cut the fortnight away short when he’d gotten an urgent email and then a frantic call from his boss.
you’d sighed in relief when he’d left you to wander the local area by yourself for the day; happy to escape his negativity for an hour even as you felt guilty for thinking so. you knew he worked hard, you knew his job was important, and his work meant you could afford your luxury apartment in London and be able to take trips like this one without stressing over the cost.
you’d taken the time to go to the market you’d read about on the plane, the place des lices, and tried every free sample of cheese that had been waved your way once you’d gotten there. but you hadn’t been the only one from your hotel to take advantage of the famous food stalls as you recognised the deep scottish brogue of one half of the couple that were staying in the room next to yours; it rose even above the busy hum of french chatter easily.
you’d turned your head and smiled when you caught his pretty husband’s eyes before turning back to the stall merchant and buying a chunk of fresh camembert for elliot to try. you’d been eyeing up the fruit stall further down and were debating the brie too if you spotted some good cranberry jam.
“you’re from the hotel, right?” you suddenly heard from your left. you turned to find the couple a lot closer than before, apparently taking your polite smile as invitation to join you. “i’ve seen you at the pool before. I’m kyle, this is my husband, johnny.”
“nice t’meet ye.”
you’d introduced yourself and shook their hands once your cheese was carefully packed into your tote bag.
“where’s yer chatty husband?” johnny asked, eyes scanning the crowd.
you flushed, a creeping sense of embarrassment rising as you thought of elliot back at the hotel shooing you off before you’d even sat for breakfast.
“oh he had some emergency at work he had to deal with,” you excused. “didn’t need me hanging around distracting him, so i went for a walk.”
“you’re on your own?” kyle asked with a concerned frown.
“yeah, but i don’t mind. i travelled alone a lot before we were together. i’m used to my own company,” you said with a soft laugh.
the pair swapped a silent look before focusing back on you. “well, we’d be happy to have ye if you’re feeling lonely, bonnie,” johnny offered. “we were thinkin’ of goin’ wine tasting after this now that we’ve got our snacks, if you’d like to join.”
you chuckled as johnny raised their bag and wiggled his eyebrows.
“i wouldn’t want to intrude.” you shook your head.
“it beats heading back to the hotel,” kyle cajoled. “unless you had other plans?”
you pursed your lips before letting a small, shy smile grow. “ok. wine tasting sounds fun.”
you had spent the afternoon laughing and eating the cheese, bread and fruits you’d bought at the market over glasses of wine with johnny and kyle, a wide smile never leaving your lips even as the three of you stumbled back up the steps to the hotel.
your phone had stayed silent the entire day and it wasn’t until you were waving goodbye to your new friends and opening the door to your hotel room that you wondered if elliot would be annoyed at you for staying out so long without contacting him.
you smiled a little shakily as you caught him leaving the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips. “good day?”
“fixed their mess if that’s what you mean,” elliot huffed, but he turned to you with a satisfied smile and nodded. he dipped his head down and kissed you sweetly. “what about you? good day?”
“mhm,” you hummed, your smile settling more firmly on your face at his easy mood. “i went wine tasting.”
“oh?” elliot grinned, looking at you a little closer and taking in the signs of your slight inebriation, the way you swayed slightly on your feet and the almost sleepy glaze over your eyes.
“met a few new friends,” you said. “johnny and kyle.”
elliot stiffened for a moment before smiling again, less genuine and with a sharper edge this time. “oh? that’s nice. i’ll be free to spend the day doing whatever you’d like tomorrow, darling. no need for friends on our honeymoon.”
“you will?” you asked as you started to undress, surprised he wasn’t asking for an extra day to check everything with work had settled. you didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth however. “there’s a great market i saw today we could go to. i wouldn’t mind going twice, the cheese is amazing—“
“sure, sure. fine. let’s just sleep now, yeah? i’m exhausted after today,” elliot interrupted as he dried himself off before climbing into bed.
“of course, yeah. we can figure it out over breakfast.”
which brought you back to now, with your croissant and your husband and your beach view and the ever growing pit of disappointment.
you skimmed your eyes over the other couples sat on the veranda with you and felt jealousy bubble and spit in your stomach. it was the small things you longed for, the easy affection you craved; legs hooked together under the table, feeding each other, shy smiles shared behind mugs, little jokes whispered on the breeze.
you felt tears prickle at your eyes unexpectedly and wiped at them hastily before elliot could notice.
“bonnie?” your head whipped up at the familiar voice and you smiled automatically at johnny and kyle as they made their way over. johnny was in a pair of shorts, and you saw a knee brace peek out from the hem.
“mind if we join you?” kyle asked, already pulling out a chair at your eager nod, ignoring the deep frown on elliot’s face.
“and you are?” elliot asked rudely, looking between the two men.
“this is johnny and kyle, the couple i told you about last night.” you laid a gentle hand on elliot’s forearm.
“oh, the wine tasters. right.”
“heard you were busy saving yer boss’ arse yesterday,” johnny said with a pinched smile. “yer bonnie wife didnae mention what ye did though?”
“i work for a powerful man looking after his money,” elliot explained vaguely, with an air of condescension.
you noticed kyle wave over a waitress and quietly order for both him and johnny, his palm settled firmly on johnny’s thigh beneath the table.
“oh aye? tha’s a lotta responsibility then. no wonder yer always looking so stressed on yer phone,” johnny laughed.
“oi, be nice, john,” kyle scolded, but the smile teasing the corner of his lips took away any bite the reprimand held.
“sorry, uh, emmet, was it?”
“elliot,” you corrected quickly.
johnny snapped his fingers and nodded. “right, right. sorry, my memory’s not what it used to be.” he waved at a rough scar at the side of his head.
“so how long have you two been together?” kyle asked as their drinks arrived. you saw elliot sniff at the vast amount of sugar kyle poured into his tea.
“five years,” you answered at the same time elliot answered, four years. you turned to him with a frown. “we’ve been married for two. we met before your promotion, remember?”
“are you sure, darling?” elliot asked.
“yes, elliot. i’m sure.”
kyle and johnny watched silently, eyebrows raised until you turned back to your croissant with a tense jaw.
“time flies ‘n all that,” johnny said, hoping to ease your tension.
“right.” you nodded. “what about you guys? been together long?”
“been stuck with him for a decade now,” kyle huffed, patting his hand on johnny’s leg.
“been blessed by me, more like, cheeky sod,” johnny muttered.
you laughed as kyle leant in to kiss his cheek obnoxiously. “met in the forces, just clicked.”
“been together ever since i caught him starin’ in the showers,” johnny boasted with a grin.
elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair and johnny’s grin dropped minisculely and his eyes hardened.
“what’re yer plans today then, bonnie?”
“oh, uhm, we’re not quite sure yet,” you said looking to elliot. “maybe the market since elliot missed it yesterday?”
“you should join us on our cruise along the coast,” kyle said. “just us and the captain, and a fair bit of booze; views are meant to be unmissable.”
“sounds better than a market,” elliot chuffed before shrugging. “sure, why not?”
“really?” you were more than surprised elliot was willingly agreeing to spend more time with kyle and johnny given how on edge he’d been just sat with them the last ten minutes.
“what d’ye say, bon?” johnny leant over the small table with a smile, taking up enough space for you to feel surprisingly cornered.
“pretty hard to say no to ‘unmissable’,” you said and forced a laugh.
“great,” kyle said and johnny slumped back into his seat, throwing an arm around the back of kyle chair. “we’ve got an hour before we’re meant to be there so eat up, love.”
elliot bristled at their familiarity with you and wrapped his own arm around the back of your chair, his hand curling around your shoulder and squeezing just a tad too tight. “she’s already eaten.”
“what, that little pastry?” johnny laughed. “you’ll need yer energy for what we’ve got planned, hen.” johnny winked.
you felt yourself flush involuntarily, your heart thumped and your eyes widened at the accidental insinuation and you knew elliot had heard it the same way going by the agitated tap of his leg beneath the table.
“i’ll probably just have another coffee,” you said placating, and smiled thinly when elliot kissed your temple. “i can grab something for on the boat or afterwards maybe.”
“that’s my girl,” elliot spoke into your hair.
---
while kyle and johnny finished up their breakfast, you nipped back into your room to change into your swimwear underneath your dress and met them along with elliot at the steps leading down to the beach.
once you’d left the dock and were deep enough in the water that it became a mesmerising dark blue, it didn’t take much convincing to have you jump in the water with johnny as the boat idled in place. elliot had waved you off with a dismissive glance at his phone when you asked if he’d join and kyle had promised to have the towels ready when you’d both ran out of energy.
“not joining them?” elliot asked, sparing a quick glance at kyle as he sat down next to your husband.
“figured i’d keep you company ‘til johnny climbs back on board. we’re temporary neighbours after all, yeah?” kyle said. he looked over the side of the boat and shook his head at his husband splashing you despite your giggly squeals of outrage. “married for two years?” he asked out of the blue and waited for elliot to hum his agreement. “what you doing on a honeymoon trip then, if you don’t mind me asking?”
elliot sighed frustratedly as he locked his phone and put it down beside him, knowing he was going to get nothing done with kyle yammering by his side. “we’re busy people, only just found the time together to go.”
kyle raised his eyebrows in shock. “busy indeed.” he looked to elliot’s phone. “got any photos of the wedding?”
elliot nodded once, and not enthusiastically enough for kyle’s liking, as he pulled up the photo folder you’d made on his phone titled ‘happily ever after 🩷’ before handing it to kyle to flip through.
the younger man whistled lowly, eyes glued to the screen as he pinched and moved the photos to zoom in. elliot noticed how he paused on the photos of you, but flicked through the others quickly, not bothering to stop quick enough to take in your bridesmaids’ dresses or the expensive tiered cake or elliot’s flash suit.
he snatched his phone back when kyle licked his lips at a photo of you dancing with your friends.
“lovely gown,” kyle said with a smirk as he watched elliot seethe. “you really got lucky, eh? punching up like that.”
elliot’s eyes squinted in a glare. “excuse me?”
“come on, mate. you can be honest, it’s why you worry about the job, right? you want to keep that going for you so she doesn’t leave you in the dust,” kyle continued to goad him.
“it’s not me that needs to worry about being left behind,” elliot spat. he rubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw to hide his burgeoning smug look, but kyle saw it in his eyes, the self-satisfaction. “i’ve got options. plenty at that.”
kyle stared at him with a blank face. “oh yeah?”
elliot laughed meanly and dropped his hand. “oh yeah.” he tapped his phone against his palm for a moment, seemingly debating something before freezing as he heard you and johnny climb the short ladder back up to the deck, laughing all the while.
“done in already?” kyle asked, his mood already lighter.
“johnny’s knee is aching, thought he could rest it and we’d get a quick drink,” you answered with a wide smile, reaching for one of the beers stored in the boats built-in cooler and handing one to johnny.
“bonnie was jus’ telling me how she used to live in a much smaller area when she was younger,” johnny said as you both sat down opposite to your partners. “but you live in london now?”
“what is it with you two? always asking bloody questions,” elliot complained, hiding his unease behind a laugh.
“just making conversation, mate,” kyle said tersely.
you felt the air grow awkward and jumped in before your husband could make it worse.
“we moved to london for elliot’s work,” you said.
“and you like it?” kyle’s inquisitive, dark eyes had you willing to be more truthful than you would usually be, especially with near strangers.
“i have to admit… i’d always thought we’d be somewhere further from the city; its what i’d always wanted and elliot said he’d liked the idea of somewhere quieter. we met in my home town after all.” you caught elliot’s scornful eye and ducked your head. “but it just didn’t go that way in the end. and london is lovely, the apartment is— lovely.”
“you ever been to scotland?” johnny asked. “the countryside is like nothin’ you’ve ever seen up there.”
kyle nodded. “we’ve lived on the edge of falkland for a few years now; feels like the middle of nowhere sometimes. doesn’t get much better, i haven’t missed the city for years.”
“one of the best decisions we ever made,” johnny agreed, leaning over to kiss gaz softly.
you sighed wistfully.
“don’t think the hills would agree with my dear wife, but maybe we’ll take a trip up there some time,” elliot said unconvincingly. you swallowed thickly at his thinly veiled dig.
“when you’re not so busy, yeah?” kyle said staring your husband down.
elliot’s lips thinned. “yeah.”
“so how’re you finding france so far?” johnny asked. “enjoying yer stay?”
elliot sniffed. “could be better. from how this one went on about the place i was expecting a hell of a lot more,” he said snidely, gesturing to you flippantly. “i’d have picked bali personally.”
your shoulders hunched even as you felt indignation and anger burn the back of your throat. it wasn’t your fault elliot wasn’t taking advantage of the holiday, the lush area and the activities that promised to be unforgettable if given the chance. you knew you’d remember going in the sea with johnny for years to come, but you doubted you’d remember the boring dinners you’d been having with elliot in a month’s time, or at least not so fondly.
“think i’d have put the trip off for longer if i knew what this place was going to be like,” elliot laughed. “in fact—“
“why don’t you shut the fuck up fer once and let yer pretty wife speak, eh?” johnny cut him off with a sarcastic smile.
elliot was shocked into silence and you found yourself stuttering as kyle and johnny focused on you.
“what do you do when you’re not on a late honeymoon, love?” kyle asked.
“uhm, i don’t actually work currently,” you admitted sheepishly, your eyes darted to your husband as he grew redder in the face. “elliot makes enough to cover us financially and finding something in london was harder than expected after i had to suddenly quit my previous job when we moved.”
kyle and johnny cooed sympathetically.
“i’ve picked up painting recently though, which has been different. not necessarily any good at it, but i like it,” you said.
“an artist? yer after my heart, hen. i sketch a little myself,” johnny said. “now ye’ll have to come visit us just so you can paint the views.”
kyle was quick to pull out his phone to share some photos. he stopped on one of johnny on the top of a steep, grassy hill; his arms thrown up the air, backpack on the ground next to him and a wide grin stretched across his face, his mohawk a little longer than it was now and a mess in the wind.
“wow, it’s gorgeous there,” you gushed, trying not to focus on johnny’s strong stance highlighted by the rising sun behind him.
“that’s the view just behind our house,” kyle grinned. “forty minute hike to get there, at most.”
you gawped. “no way.”
johnny nodded.
“think you’re maybe overestimating her painting skills there, boys,” elliot snickered as he looked at the photo. “if you saw what she’s done so far you’d realise it’s definitely just a new hobby.”
“show us,” kyle suggested kindly, not bothering to look at elliot.
you hesitated before reaching for your bag and pulling out your phone. you handed it over with a shy smile.
“oi, these are good, bonnie,” johnny said immediately, stood looking over kyle’s shoulder. his brow was pulled into a frown as he concentrated.
“i’d buy ‘em,” kyle added, looking up at you to smile.
“ha! right, yeah,” you laughed, thinking he was teasing. you put down your beer and took your phone back, dropping it into your bag. you leant in to kiss elliot’s cheek and stood. “who’s going to join me in the water? elliot?”
“i don’t think so, darling. maybe another time,” he said.
“i will.” kyle stood. “did johnny show you how to dive off the front?”
your eyes widened in excitement as you shook your head and followed him, waving at the captain sat at the helm of the small boat as you passed.
johnny watched the pair of you go before turning to glare at elliot silently, not breaking eye contact even as your husband frowned and shifted uneasily, eventually looking down at his phone to avoid johnny’s unwavering, cold gaze.
---
“i don’t like them,” elliot said once you were back in your hotel that evening.
“who? johnny and kyle?”
“who else?” elliot scoffed. “they’re too familiar with you, they— they fawn over you. flirt relentlessly, in front of me—“
“oh come on,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself even as elliot grew angrier at your casual dismissal. “they’re married, don’t be bloody daft.”
“don’t call me stupid.” elliot warned.
“i’m not, i just—“
“whether they’re actually interested in you or not isn’t the point,” elliot seethed. “they’re doing it to wind me up. to get away with humiliating me and you encourage them.”
“i— what? we were just having fun,” you said.
“oh i know, i saw how you clung to them in the water when you thought i wasn’t looking. fucking slut.”
you gaped at elliot, taken aback by his harsh words and sharp tone. you took in a deep breath and tried to level your own voice.
“they’re just friendly.” you bit your cheek. “if anything, you’re just jealous i’m getting more attention than you for once.”
“what was that?” elliot whipped around to face you and you felt your blood run cold even before he took a step towards you. he gripped you roughly by the back of your neck and tugged you forward so his lips rested at your temple and you followed limply, keeping your hands by your sides. “you better not play up tomorrow, darling. whatever they offer, we’re busy. this our honeymoon, not a fucking jolly for you to try and meet other men.”
you seethed in his hold, furious at his accusations and the irony of his ill-placed jealousy. but all the same you nodded gently. “ok, elliot.”
“good.” he kissed your round cheek with a loud, sarcastic smack before turning towards the bathroom. he shed his clothes as he walked, leaving them in a trail you knew he expected you to pick up and closed the door behind him, leaving you stood motionless in the centre of the hotel room.
---
you dodged johnny’s bright grin and kyle’s sweet invites to hang out over the last week of your holiday with a pained grimace.
after the first few mornings of suddenly stilted conversation over breakfast, they stopped joining you and elliot and you were happy they were able to continue enjoying their honeymoon even if you weren’t.
elliot didn’t say in so many words, but he didn’t trust you not to gallivant off if left alone like before, so you were stuck waiting in the admittedly lavish hotel room on the days elliot got pulled back into work over the phone and on his laptop. too important to leave until later, he’d said. but he’d promised each time to take you out for a dinner that had continued to be forgotten about.
with only a few days left you were stuck waiting by the road, the little moped you’d rented for the day parked and so far unused while elliot nipped back up to the hotel to grab his sunglasses. it’d been twenty minutes already and part of you wondered if he’d gotten lost. you wished he’d left the keys with you instead of pocketing them so you could keep yourself entertained with a quick ride around the block, get used to the feel of the bike before joining onto the main road.
a squeaky horn, two beeps in quick succession, had you flinching from your moody thoughts and looking up as kyle and johnny pulled to a stop in front of you.
“long time no see, love,” kyle said. he nodded down at the bike with a grin. “where you off to?”
“and can we join?” johnny asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
you snorted. “nowhere. not until elliot comes back at least.” you shrugged. “he’s got the keys,” you explained.
“how about we take you for a quick ride then,” johnny offered and kyle immediately started getting off from behind him.
“no, no i couldn’t. thank you. elliot will be back any second, im sure,” you said quickly, worried elliot would grow mad if he saw you sat behind johnny on the bike.
“ok, love,” kyle placated. “how about we swap numbers then, in case we don’t get to see you before your trip is up? i want to see more of your paintings.”
“we’re off home in about two days or so, figured yours would be about the same,” johnny said.
“what about email?” you suggested instead. your couples therapist had suggested regularly reading each others texts to try and gain back trust between the pair of you. the irony that it was now you trying to hide a conversation in your phone wasn’t lost on you, but you knew elliot wouldn’t want you talking to them after this trip. “i can get pretty chatty in a text, so email might be better,” you lied flimsily.
“sure,” johnny nodded along, clearly not believing you. “whatever you’d like.”
“you can have john’s email,” kyle said with a smirk, the expression growing when the scot sighed and swatted at kyle’s thigh behind him.
you watched them with confused amusement until johnny read out his email.
soapysuds92@yahoo.com
“wow. that’s very myspace of you,” you laughed even as johnny rolled his eyes.
“soap’s an old nickname, you’ll probably hear me call him gaz sometimes too. old habits,” johnny explained.
“from the military?” you confirmed and they nodded.
“i say it when i want him to listen. gets him standing to attention when i call him soap,” kyle said teased.
“anything you do gets me standing to attention, handsome,” johnny said, sultry and playful.
“oh piss off,” kyle laughed as he pushed johnny’s face away, pretending to groan in disgust when johnny caught his wrist and messily kissed his palm. you felt your stomach clench at the brief sight of his tongue poking between kyle’s fingers, lapping at the webbing before he let him go.
his tongue there and gone again in a second. you’d almost think you’d imagined it if you didn’t see the spit glisten in the sun before kyle wiped it on his shorts.
you blinked to clear your head and turned away even as the thought of johnny’s mouth around kyle’s fingers replayed over and over in your head.
turning away meant you caught sight of elliot making his way back. it had your thoughts sobering and you looked back to the couple with an apologetic smile. “i’ll see you guys later hopefully, but if not i hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon guys.”
“ye trying to get rid o’ us?” johnny pouted, mischief clear in his eyes.
“no, but I know elliot will want to set off straight away so—“
“we know when we’re not wanted, love,” kyle sighed, winking at you to soften the words and let you know they weren’t offended, just pulling your pigtails. “take a hint, johnny, let’s go check out the beach.”
“aye aye, sir,” johnny saluted lazily before revving the moped back to life and waving at you over his shoulder.
“ready to go?” you jumped slightly at elliot’s voice behind you, you hadn’t realised he was so close already and when you turned around you could see he was tense.
“ready when you are,” you said and moved out of the way of the bike.
elliot didn’t mention johnny or kyle and you were thankful; the day had barely begun, you didn’t need an argument to ruin it already.
you swung your leg over the bike behind him and cuddled close, smiling when elliot rubbed a warm palm over your bare knee next to his thigh. today could be good if you just let it, you reminded yourself as elliot set off clumsily.
you lifted your head from his back once he’d managed to get the hang of controlling the moped a little better, becoming confident on the roads after a few minutes, but you wished you hadn’t.
his collar was rustling in the wind and had slipped loose around his shoulder, revealing a smudged lipstick mark previously hidden by his button up overshirt. you felt your breath hitch, unable to look away even as your eyes started to burn.
your gut clenched and rolled unpleasantly, like you could throw up any moment but your jaw was firmly clenched closed. your hands shook where they were holding elliot at the waist and you finally clenched your eyes closed.
with trembling lips, you held back a sob.
today could be good if you let it, you repeated. so let it.
---
you didn’t see kyle or johnny before you left and you didn’t mention what you saw to elliot either.
instead you went back to london, to the dreary rain and the empty flat and the weekly couples’ appointments.
you lied when your therapist asked how your honeymoon went. you grinned and turned to elliot with wide sparkling eyes and reach for his hand to hold between yours as you simpered, “simply perfect.”
but it wasn’t and elliot new it.
the breaking point was when johnny sent your throw-away email account a message one afternoon with a photo attached at the bottom. you grinned when it loaded on your laptop and you zoomed in to see your smiling face, then kyle’s, then johnnys.
it had been taken on the boat on your way back to the dock after a long day swimming and drinking and laughing. elliot had kept to himself for most of the trip unless spoken to, but after an hour you’d managed to ignore him well enough. it wasn’t until kyle pulled him up on your way back, slapped his phone into elliot’s hand and asked him to take a photo of the three of you with the water and island in the background that you remembered he was there.
“elliot, be a good lad and take the photo for us won’t ya?”
“why not ask the captain—“
“he’s done enough dealing with us fer the day, aye? oh— wait, did ye want tae be in it with us?”
“no. thank you.”
they’d thrown their arms around you, pushing and pulling you to their liking until you were stood by the edge of the boat, and smiled. your shoulders were sensitive where johnny’s arm laid over the top - sunburnt you thought at the time - and your hair was still wet from your last dip, but your smile was wide and glowing even as elliot had gritted his teeth.
despite his grumbles he’d done as asked and you’d been dying to see the photo ever since when johnny cooed, “aw, lovely photo to remember ya by.”
now you felt your cheeks heat as you saw how your swim shorts had rucked up high on your thighs, damp and clinging, showing off more skin than you’d realised. your swimsuit at least covered your stomach and cleavage well enough, though johnny’s hand on your shoulder held one of the thick strings of your suit where it had tied at the back of your neck. he was in the middle of playing with it, tugging it so it was taut but not enough to loosen the bow. you don’t remember feeling him pull at the string holding your suit up over your breasts, though you were distracted by the tight hold gaz had on your waist, the handful he’d grabbed as he knocked your hips together.
god no wonder elliot had gotten mad that evening. if you hadn’t known the two were married, you’d have assumed they were trying to get between your legs by this photo alone.
you read the message johnny had sent along with it.
missin you and yer sweet laugh, bonnie!
forgot to send the photo earlier, i think the three of us look well fit, we’ll have to go swimming gain sometime. gaz suggested leucate plage if yer still in love wih france, but im sure there’s a few different au naturel beaches we could try ;)
you sputtered a laugh at that, scoffing at the idea of going to a nude beach especially with those two. bloody hell, elliot would have a fit, you thought gleefully.
but for now we thought you could come visit us like we’d said before? the countryside could be good for you and the ol’ ball n chain. we’d be happy t have ye both for the week, we’ve got the room. just let us know, yeah?
yer handsome pal,
johnny
you shook your head at his theatrics. emailing johnny felt like having a slightly unhinged penpal and reading his emails never failed to brighten up your day, you could hear him in the way he typed. you also loved when you assumed gaz would steal the phone to use his account to talk to you, the lack of scots and shorthand was always a dead giveaway between the two.
you bit your lip and found some of the photos he’d sent previously of their home and garden. it was gorgeous simply put and although the anxiety of admitting to elliot that you’d kept in contact with them had your palms sweating, the deep urge to go visit them ultimately won out.
you bit the bullet over dinner that same night. steak, specially made to soften elliot’s mood.
not that it helped much.
“what?” he dropped his cutlery and pushed back from his seat, needing distance from you as he processed you’d been lying to him. “why would you do that?”
you didn’t have an answer. or not one that elliot would like, so you felt yourself begin to shrug before you thought back to your last session.
“our therapist said it could be good for the relationship if i made some friends separate to yours,” you said.
“she also said you needed to focus trying more with my friends,” elliot reminded.
“but your friends aren’t offering to stay with us for a week in the highlands, elliot. if they were then i’d be all for it!”
“so if i tell my friends that we’ll spend christmas at the ski lodge with them this year, you won’t whine about wanting to be at home together, this time,” he challenged.
you swallowed. he knew you hated skiing and his bitchy judgmental rich friends. it wasn’t even as though it was his easy going friends that liked to go, it was the worst of the bunch that purposely left you out or talked down to you, made it impossible to try without embarrassing yourself.
but fine. you could deal with that this year if it meant your friendship with kyle and johnny was allowed to grow.
“sure,” you said with an obviously fake casual shrug. “so we can go?”
elliot huffed. you sprung out your next argument.
“our therapist also said it was important to let me take the lead a few times. in order to let me regai—“
“regain some power in the relationship, yeah, i know. i was there.” elliot nodded. he seemed to think it over. “this will help you trust me again?”
you reached across the table and held his hand, smiling at him hopefully when he looked back at you. you tried not to think of the lipstick stain in france, tried not to let the hurt cloud you eyes. “yes.” you stood and walked to stand by his chair, chest warming when he wrapped an arm around your waist. “the honeymoon felt forced,” you admitted, making sure to keep eye contact even as he stiffened. “we both felt it, you can admit it, i’m not mad. but this would be new and an adventure. like old times, elliot.”
he nodded a little less resignedly. “sure, old times. ok.”
you smiled, dipped down to kiss him deeply, rubbing his clean shaven cheek with your thumb.
“thank you. this will be fun, i promise. we’ll get to relax and just spend some time together, yeah? no pressure of what we should be doing as a couple or at work or— or—“
elliot softened as he looked at you stutter to find another reason. “yes, darling. it’ll be good.”
you stepped out of his grasp.
“i’ll let them know we can go, what date do you think would be best?”
---
“fucking hell, you had one job. look out for the stupid carved owl in the tree and that’s when we know to turn left,” elliot seethed as he drove, the sun growing dimmer by the minute. you’d spent the entire day driving up north using the directions, had set off that saturday morning in hopes that the traffic wouldn’t be as busy as midweek. “so where are we now? you insisted on following their directions instead of using the satnav, so where the hell does it mention this endless fucking shitty, unpaved road? eh?”
you hunched down in your seat next to him and reread the instructions from soap, hoping to find a clue as to where you were on the, admittedly adorable yet detailed, map he’d drawn. you’d found it endearing when you’d first saw it but now you were thinking it was more of a necessity.
elliot snatched your phone from your hand and split his focus between the dark road and your phone, scrolling erratically to find the directions in the email he wanted. your hand hovered between you, eager to take your phone back but hesitant to foul his mood further.
your eyes caught on movement on the road and you quickly gripped the wheel to swerve and avoid hitting a deer that had wandered out from the trees. “fuck, elliot, watch out!”
he slammed on the breaks and dropped your phone into your footwell as he automatically gripped the wheel to take over from you.
you both sat still, panting; anxiety and adrenaline pumping through your body as you tried to tell it and brain that you were fine, it could calm down, you were ok. you rubbed at your shoulder where your seatbelt had dug in.
elliot started up the car again, silent, and went slower down the road until the headlights caught on a misshapen tree. you squinted before pointing it out. “here, look. i think that’s the owl, go left.”
it only took a few minutes before you could see the lights from kyle and johnny’s farmhouse. the shape of their barn and surrounding smaller outbuildings stark against the natural curves of the hills and trees they were settled amongst.
“we’re here,” you said excitedly. “they said to pull around the side of the barn to the garage they have at the side. their house should be riiight there.” you grinned as you parked directly in front of it on the gravel next to their truck.
“great,” elliot said sarcastically. you didn’t mention his tone knowing that having to drive all day, several hours longer than you’d both expected, would have rankled anyone’s mood.
you climbed out without a word and got your bags out of the back of the car. when you rounded back to the front you found johnny and kyle walking to meet you already, their front door left open behind them.
“bonnie! ye made it,” johnny said as he jogged over to you excitedly. you let go of your suitcase as he pulled you into a hug as soon as you were close enough, scuffing his stubble against your neck in his excitement.
“down, boy,” kyle laughed, nudging johnny out of the way to give you his own hug. once he pulled back he nodded to elliot and smirked. “thought you’d maybe gotten lost, we were ready to start a search party.”
elliot bristled but johnny spoke up before he could defend himself.
“aye, but tea is still warm and ready to be served, an’ ahm fucking starving so let’s get inside yeah?” johnny slapped elliot’s shoulder before leading you all to the house. “done a big roasty fer the pair a’ye, so i hope yer hungry.”
the heat encompassed you as soon as you stepped inside, led through to the kitchen-stroke-dining room. the food smelled divine and the warmth accumulated from the oven and the fireplace had your shoulders relaxing instantly.
the house was far from modern with its mismatched old wooden chairs around the handmade table and the well-loved couch you could spot through in the next room, nothing like your lifeless flat in london. but the farmhouse was still stylish in its own way, in the colour of the cabinets, the throw on couch, the wallpaper leading up the stairs. though more importantly, it was homely. lived in.
“i can imagine the drive wasnae easy for first timers, so sit yerselves down and i’ll plate the food, gaz’ll get the wine,” johnny said.
you pulled out the chair next to elliot, leaving the two opposite you empty.
johnny clapped his hands as if to say voilà when he put down your heaped plates a minute later.
“this looks amazing, johnny, you cooked this?” you asked, eyes round and barely stopping yourself from digging in to be polite.
“have a great sous chef,” he said and patted kyle’s arse when he passed by with the wine. kyle smirked.
“how did you find the drive up, seriously?” kyle asked as he poured your drinks. he took a seat with johnny and gestured for you to start eating; now with permission, you didn’t hesitate.
“it was fine. might’ve been easier if we were given an address instead, satnav might’ve made it quicker,” elliot said as he pushed around some of the steamed vegetables on his plate.
“the views made taking our time worth it though, the valleys we passed were gorgeous,” you gushed. “i didn’t realise there were so many small lakes too.”
elliot sniffed irritably, but you didn’t notice. in fact you’d barely noticed how he played with his food more than ate it as you were too busy chatting and eating. you were going crazy for the hearty roast dinner, you could see in the colour and in the bursting taste of the veg just how fresh it all was; nothing like the store bought stuff you usually got at home.
you hadn’t had anything home cooked in so long that you hadn’t made yourself, and when you told kyle and johnny so they both reared back as though slapped.
“oh love, you’re missing out, that’s not right. don’t worry we’ll take care of you while you’re here,” kyle promised.
elliot cleared his throat. “got any salt?”
johnny’s eyes flickered tersely from elliot to the roast beef he was poking on his plate and back up again. “sure. let me just grab it for ye.”
“cheers,” elliot smiled thinly.
“top up?” kyle asked and gestured to your wine glass. you nodded before turning to elliot, but he wasn’t looking your way so you held your glass out.
“thanks. god, after this and the long drive i think i’ll be ready for bed; sorry excuse for company on the first night,” you apologised.
“we’re just happy to have you here,” kyle assured you as johnny sat back down. your husband doused his food in salt before making a better dent in it, downing his wine quickly afterwards with a wince.
“yeah, i think it’ll be an early one for us tonight, won’t it, darling?” elliot said and started to stand, rudely pushing his unfinished plate away. “in fact, i think i’m pretty tired now.”
you looked down at the last few bites of your meal and the full glass of wine forlornly but stood alongside elliot.
“it really was a fantastic meal, thank you so much, johnny,” you said.
“anytime for you, hen,” he said. “here, let us show you to your room.”
“i’ll grab the dishes while you take them up, johnny. you cooked so i’ll clean,” kyle said, hooking a finger in johnny’s jeans to catch his attention when he stood up. you felt a sharp pang at their easy domesticity. sure they’d said they’d known each other, been together, for a decade, but it still ached that you and elliot where struggling so obviously in comparison despite your sixth anniversary nearing on the horizon.
you gave kyle a fragile smile as you followed johnny upstairs with your bags to your room for the week.
“i’ll leave you to it, see ye in the morning,” johnny said as you settled into your room.
“this is amazing,” you said with a small laugh, disbelief and joy mixing into something like hope as you started to get undressed. the view out of your bedroom looked over the front garden and you felt giddy at the idea of staying with your new friends for the next few days and exploring the area further.
“it’s… quaint,” elliot said.
you turned to him, your mouth pulled tight. “please don’t start.”
“what? it’s just… smaller than what we’re used to,” he said with a shrug, starting to laugh as he gestured at the room. “i mean look at this place, and the bed.”
“keep your voice down at least, elliot,” you hissed, eyes sharp on the closed door of your bedroom.
“darling, you know i get overheated easily, and by the looks of it we’re going to be pressed side by side all night. and i doubt they have a/c,” elliot huffed. he sat down on the bed and rolled his eyes when it squeaked. “oh, come on.”
“we could open the window,” you said stubbornly, ignoring elliot as he shifted to make the bed squeak again.
“and let in the smell of sheep shit? not your brightest idea,” he scoffed. “christ and never mind the bloody noise on top of that. good thing i brought my ear plugs or i’d never get any sleep.”
you bit your tongue when you thought of the constant traffic noises that flooded into your apartment at all times of the day and night, the light pollution that did its best to creep past your blackout curtains.
“i’m sure you’ll get used to it after the first couple of nights,” you said instead and moved to join him in bed. you reached for his hand and squeezed it, leaning in for a kiss, teasing your tongue at his lips for a split second before pulling back. “just… please be nice?”
he sighed.
“fine,” he conceded. “i was just expecting something a little nicer considering the price of the trip we met them on.”
you scowled at him and let go of his hand. “you’re being rude.”
you leant over to turn off your lamp and laid down facing away from him. neither of you noticed the shadows shift under your door, the light footsteps heading away from your room.
---
you woke up the next morning to find elliot already in the shower, you could hear the pipes from the bathroom next door and noticed his suitcase had been half unpacked.
you were grateful he’d let you sleep, you’d gone to bed frustrated and you didn’t want to carry it on this morning. it was a new day and you were eager to have fun.
you walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. as you gazed out your eyes naturally drifted to johnny, stood near the barn you’d passed on your way in. he was small given the distance but you couldn’t help but stare as he rhythmically chopped logs into smaller, more manageable pieces.
he was sweating, the repetitive action of driving the axe up and then through the thick wood obviously tiring, and you felt water pool in your mouth as you looked on gormlessly.
the sleeves of his thick checked shirt were rolled up his forearms and part of you wished he’d decided to chop the wood in the driveway so you’d have a clearer view of his muscles at work. he wiped his face on his bicep and suddenly turned to the house, to your window.
you ducked away before he could catch you and started to get dressed out of the line of sight the windows may provide. with your face aflame and anxious butterflies rampant in your stomach, you needed to get your head on straight and decidedly not ogle your new friends.
with one last stern word to yourself you headed downstairs back to the kitchen and found gaz pottering around.
“ah morning, love. coffee?” he offered, holding out a cup. you took it gratefully with a small thank you and sat at the table again. there was a plate of toast in the middle, enough slices freshly made made for the four of you, and you reached forward for one. “i was thinking me and soap could show you a hiking trail nearby, make a day of it.”
“the one you showed me on your phone?” you asked, nodding enthusiastically regardless of his answer.
“this one’s even better,” gaz said, smiling fondly. “just might take longer.”
“coffee? thank you, darling,” elliot mumbled as he swiped your coffee from your hands without asking and distracting you from answering gaz. you’d barely had a sip before elliot was finishing the drink off in one go. “mm, bit too milky for my liking,” he told you and sucked his teeth.
“probably because it wasn’t for you,” kyle said flatly. “we’re going on a hike today, care to join or has work called you in already?”
“i’d love a hike,” elliot said brightly. johnny walked in through the front door as elliot continued to talk about the hikes he’d been on before, heading to the sink to wash his hands and leaning up to kiss kyle as he passed. “work can wait for the great outdoors. my wife here knows how much i love going on— on uh, on hikes and finding new trails and mapping them out.” elliot stumbled over his words for a second, taken back by the kiss.
johnny’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh and he turned and winked at you as he opened up a cupboard door that hid his face from your husband.
“oh, so you two go together?” kyle asked.
“no, no,” elliot laughed like the thought was ridiculous. “i go with my mates. not really her thing.”
you pursed your lips; you hated it when elliot answered for you, especially when he was wrong. which was often. instead of fussing though, you focused your ire on another slice of toast from the centre of the table.
“right.” kyle stood from his chair and went to lean next to johnny on one of the kitchen counters. “we’ll pack a bag full of snacks and drinks and then we can be off. give us fifteen minutes?”
you nodded, thankful for the excuse to leave elliot at the table, and went to grab your walking boots before coming back to wait with elliot near the door.
“quicker to get there from the back,” johnny said and led you through the rest of the downstairs out into the back garden.
it looked like it could spread for acres if not for the looming trees of the forest fencing it in.
to the left was their chicken coop and a small locked shed. if you turned around you’d see your cars parked, the garage and then the barn further up.
the chicken coop was on solid muddy ground, closer to the gravel front, whereas the shed was further up on the flat grassy area that began to rise into a small hill further back and closer to the trees; there was a small iron table sat with four chairs closer to the house and you couldn’t wait to use it, imagining sitting out there for lunch or breakfast.
to your right you took in their allotment, the large raised beds full of blooming vegetables; tall beans climbing the trellis arches from one side to another. you saw noticed the glint of a greenhouse hidden behind it all. everything was encouraged to grow to its fullest and you bet the food they’d served the night before had been grown by their very own hands.
“we’ve got strawberries if ye’d like tae pick some over the next few days,” johnny said as he walked you down to the end of the garden, catching the way your eyes were glued to the allotment.
“i’d love that, i haven’t been strawberry picking since i was little,” you said.
johnny nodded. “settled then.”
---
the hike wasn’t difficult, but living down south in a very flat city hadn’t built up your cardio for the steep hills and climbs at all.
“this is a good place to stop for lunch,” johnny said, apropos to nothing.
he squeezed your arm as he wandered off the path towards the edge of the hill. you were halfway there to the top, but already you were loving the views.
“knee bothering you, johnny?” kyle asked as he pulled out a rainproof sheet from his bag and started placing the food out in the tupperware boxes.
“something like that,” he said.
you laughed when you saw johnny pull out a bottle of wine from his.
“just tryin’ tae make use of all the wine we bought on holiday, hen,” he snickered.
you sat down and helped them spread the food out while your husband paced from the ledge to the path and then to the blanket, only to start again.
“have a seat elliot,” you said encouragingly, patting the space you’d left purposely empty next to you.
he slumped down with a huff and kyle side-eyed him.
“how was your night? sleep well?”
“hope the room wasnae too small,” johnny added, biting into a cheese cracker as he looked to your husband.
you felt your stomach drop and your face heat up. “no, not at all—“
“i think i’m just used to the finer things,” elliot said, picking up one of the packed travel cups pointedly and pouring himself some wine.
“we slept fine,” you said firmly as you frowned at elliot. “it’s perfect.”
“ah, we’re just joking around, hen, no need to fash,” johnny teased. “you pack yer paints?”
“shit.” your face dropped as you looked at him. “i completely forgot when i was packing, i was too excited.”
johnny grinned. “you can borrow mine, it’s alright.”
“if they’re not dried up that is,” kyle said with a laugh. “i’ve not seen you touch paints in years, johnny.”
“they’re water paints, gaz, they’re meant tae be dry,” johnny said with a roll of his eyes. he looked to you and covered the side of his mouth. “yer a breath o’fresh air, ye have no idea. i love him but he doesnae have the eye fer it, you know?”
“im right bloody here,” kyle said exasperatedly, making you laugh.
“fucking hell,” your husband muttered under his breath before standing. “i think i’m gonna go ahead and have a look at the trail, get a lay of the land. i’ll turn around in ten and meet you back here.”
“are you sure?” you asked at the same time johnny warned him, “don’t go off the path.”
“why not?” elliot asked, taking it as a challenge despite johnny’s grave tone.
“go straight so you don’t get lost,” johnny repeated seriously. “it’s a tricky place, these woods. one wrong turn and you’ll ne’er be found.”
elliot stayed silent for a moment, left off kilter by johnny’s intense eyes, before laughing, waving him of with a scoff. “sure thing, johnny.”
you watch your husband walk off with an uneasy feeling before kyle and johnny’s easy going nature distracted you once more.
before you knew it it’d been twenty minutes, but you were too busy talking about how they’d ended up moving out so far away from their original shared home, that you hadn’t noticed elliot wasn’t back yet.
“it’s great here, but it can feel… lonely sometimes, just the two of us,” johnny admitted as he looked to kyle. the handsome man nodded and knocked their knees together.
“i know how that feels,” you said, three cups of wine having loosened your lips.
“yeah?” kyle asked softly, tilting his head to meet your downcast eyes.
you opened and closed your mouth a few times before taking a deep breath.
“i want a baby,” you said weakly, sadly. you were quiet as though hoping not to be overheard. “elliot doesn’t think it’s the right time, but im starting to doubt it’d ever be the right time if it were up to him.”
you blink at the anger that had seeped into your last words and gasped as you realised that you’d actually finally said them out loud. not even your therapist had gotten you to admit this.
“oh god, please forget i said that,” you begged them suddenly, wide eyed and pleading. “please. don’t say anything to elliot about it. i— i think i’ve just drank a little too much,” you tried to excuse yourself.
“hey, it’s ok,” johnny said with a concerned frown.
“i didn’t mean it,” you rushed out.
kyle moved to elliot’s previous spot and pulled you in for a warm hug, calming you down.
“it’s normal to want things and to be disappointed when the person that promised you them can’t deliver,” he whispered. you sniffled and slowly wrapped your arms back around him with a nod, tears building behind yojr closed eyelids. you slumped into his hold further when johnny’s large hand rubbed soothingly across your back below kyle’s arms.
it was nice. simply being between them and being comforted by them was nice.
you leaned back and wiped at your eyes with a sniffly laugh.
“thank you, guys, i— thank you.”
gaz squeezed your shoulder for a moment before finally letting you go.
you felt fidgety, needing to do something with your hands and to keep them from staring at your red rimmed eyed, so you reached for a handful of grapes when it suddenly occurred to you that elliot wasn’t back. you looked at your watch and swore.
“elliot’s not here yet, shit what if he’s lost?”
“he won’t be,” johnny reassured you, standing alongside you and grabbing your shoulders. “he’s an experienced hiker, right? he probably lost track a’time like we did.”
“let’s get this packed away and we’ll go catch up to him,” kyle suggested. you nodded, easily calmed once given easy orders to occupy your busy mind
---
“elliot?” you called out as you walked, johnny and kyle on either side of you, looking out into the trees in case he’d gone off track. “you there? elliot?”
“stop shouting, christ, i’m here,” elliot complained further up the trail. he was slouched against a tree. “took you all long enough.”
“oh my god, what happened,” you said as you crouched next to him, looking at the sorry swollen state of his ankle.
“twisted it looks like, worst-case it could be a sprain,” kyle said from over your shoulder. “should be fine, we can get home with him leaning on our shoulders, right, soap?”
johnny tutted in disappointment as he stared down the path instead of at your injured husband.
“the waterfall was only five minutes away as well,” johnny said to no one in particular. he crouched next to elliot. “c’mon then, let’s get you back.”
your husband bristled. he looked longingly down the trail johnny had gestured to just a moment before.
“we should still go, i’ll be fine,” he insisted. “we should go to the waterfall.”
gaz raised his eyebrows incredulously as he helped elliot stand, but he stayed silent.
“you want to lean on me or johnny?” he asked.
“whoever gets us there quicker,” elliot said, face pinched.
kyle rolled his eyes and set off walking, leaving elliot to wince until he matched kyle’s stride. luckily the walk wasn’t long before the four of you cut off the trail and found yourselves stood at the bottom of the waterfall, a light mist of water splashing at your bare skin from where you stood.
“holy shit.”
johnny nudged your shoulders together with a laugh.
“impressive, right?”
“to say the least,” you huffed.
kyle had helped elliot sit down by the edge of the plunge pool with his leg stretched out as you’d taken in the view with johnny, though you soon took a seat next to elliot when you noticed he was situated as comfortable as could be. you pulled off your shoes and socks and shuffled forwards a little to dip your feet in the water, kicking lightly and grinning even with how the cold bit at your toes.
elliot stayed stern faced even as he looked at the impressive feature, but kyle and johnny took no notice.
they started to undress, throwing their clothes down haphazardly by their bags.
“you coming in?” kyle asked you cheekily.
“we go in every time we’re here, tradition now,” johnny explained once he was stood in his underwear.
“i don’t have my swimsuit,” you said hesitantly.
“jus’ go in yer kegs like us,” johnny dismissed the worry.
“it’s probably for the best she’s said no,” elliot said meanly, one eyebrow raised as he looked over your relaxed form, your stomach rolls obvious and plush under the afternoon sun and your thighs spread thick where they pressed against the edge of the natural pool. you suddenly felt the need to layer up in your baggiest clothes. “she’s happy enough sat with me. isn’t that right, darling?”
you felt embarrassment, hot and sharp, flood from your face to your toes as you stared at him. this was your husband. a man that took delight in belittling you.
“oi,” johnny warned from where he stood waist deep in the water.
you ignored them both and stood suddenly, shucking off your clothes with tight angry movements, a smile only eventually pulling at your lips when kyle wolf whistled playfully.
johnny joined in jeering and clapped as you stepped carefully closer to the edge before jumping in. once you resurfaced, you resolutely faced away from the scowl you knew would be on your husband’s face. you were past caring.
the cold of the water had you sucking in thinner breaths until you acclimatised, and you were grateful it was deep enough to brush your collarbones as you could tell your nipples were babbling from the chill.
“be careful, love, there are fish in here,” gaz said as he drifted closer to your front. his smile was bordering on mischievous but it eased your slight reservations of being in the water. “but don’t worry they don’t bite.”
you felt a sudden pinch on your buttcheek and you squealed before johnny’s laugh and warm chest at your back registered. you flushed hot and dug your elbow back into his ribs as they laughed, both barely giving you space to float alone.
they guided you closer to the waterfall with easy going smiles and it wasn’t until you felt their capable hands on your hips and tummy to keep you from being dragged under as you held your hands under the heavy pour that you looked back guiltily at your husband. you pushed off and away from them but continued to swim a little while longer until elliot kicked up a fuss, bored.
“are we done now? it’s getting dark, we should be heading back,” he spoke up when it looked like the three of you weren’t tiring any time soon. “and then there’s dinner to think of.”
“you offering to cook, elliot?” kyle said as he climbed out of the water.
elliot scoffed. “not likely. with the ankle and all,” he said patronisingly.
gaz smiled thinly. “of course.”
the three of you dried off as best you could before dressing and heading back to the farmhouse with elliot leant between johnny and kyle.
even as your clothes chafed against your damp skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret swimming. thought the cold was biting even through your coat, and a warm shower was calling for you back at the farmhouse.
---
once you were back you showered quickly and then ran a bath for elliot. you helped ease him in so he didn’t slip and further injure himself.
“put on a real fucking show today,” he grumbled once he was laid back. you cupped the water over his hair carefully.
“what do you mean?” you grabbed the shampoo and began lathering it.
“don’t play dumb,” he hissed. “acting like that, like a whore, with them. again.”
“i wasn’t—“
“you’re a fucking hypocrite,” he said harshly. “punishing me for one little mistake but now you get to act like this with other men?”
you let your hands hang over the edge of the tub in shock. “you cheated on me. more than once, elliot. that’s not a little mistake.”
“we’re past this,” he said tiredly with a shake of his head, rubbing his hand over his forehead to wipe away the dripping shampoo.
“then why did you bring it up?”
he turned to look at you, disgust clear on his face.
“you’re ugly when you get like this,” he said simply. “leave me to it, i’ll call you in when i need a hand getting out.”
your lip trembled as you stood and went back to your room. as you closed the door behind you, you heard elliot mutter to himself, “he’s an absolute idiot thinking this was only a twisted ankle, clearly not a doctor. the swelling has hardly gone down.”
you didn’t react, heading to the room next door with watery eyes. as you were tidying up your clothes, sniffling back angry and hurt tears, there was a knock on the doorframe. your turned to see johnny with a plate in his hand.
“thought i’d make things easier and bring his tea up fer him,” he said and put it on the bedside table. “do you want me to bring up yours too or will you be joining us?”
“oh, i’m not hungry, thank you johnny,” you said with a watery smile. the food looked delicious but elliot’s words had soured your appetite. “i think i’m just going to go to bed as soon as elliot’s alright.”
“ye sure?”
“mhm.” you nodded.
johnny nodded, said a soft, “let me know if ye change your mind.” he pulled out a pack of pain tablets from his pocket with a little wave and dropped them on the bed and then left.
you waited for elliot’s shout before you went to help him out of the bath and back through to your room. you left him to dry and dress himself and once he was sat on the bed with his food, you turned your back to him and willed yourself to fall asleep quickly.
part two
want to email johnny? click here!
#it’s here!! and posted correctly hopefully!!#face claim for elliot of oliver jackson cohen bc he’s hot but he plays an arshole really well#i’ve had a lot of fun writing this over the last month#took me forever but it turned out a hell of a lot longer than i’d anticipated too#hoping the email idea doesn’t flop and goes well!!#thank u kai for helping me with my ocs and thank you birdy for helping me pic the fic title!!#ily guys :’)#full disclosure idk if the area i chose is all that solitary Imao i've never been to scotland never mind falkland or the reservoir#i just looked at google maps lol#soapgaz x reader#soapgaz#soap x reader x gaz#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#cw noncon#tw noncon#cw abusive relationship#tw abusive relationship#let me know if more tags are wanted or needed#fat reader#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mactavish x reader x kyle gaz garrick#johnny mactavish x reader x kyle garrick#soap x reader#gaz x reader
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