#he's probably more of a beer guy but i like the sound of whiskey better

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven | three

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter l next chapter

summary: You and Joel get to know each other better and the two of you share a private moment out behind the barn under the stars; an unexpected guest shows up to the party; Tommy gives Joel a second and final warning about you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) MENTIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. alcohol consumption, mutual pining and yearning, Joel sings to reader a bit (that is its own warning), soft Joel, overprotective Joel, and a slight hint of jealous Joel. Tommy seems like kind of an asshole but he’s just trying to look out for his brother, okay?

word count 6.6k

About an hour later, after tossing back about three or four bottles of Seth’s crappy beer, you’d started feeling a lot livelier and a lot more like yourself. It was a glass of his delicious, oak-barrel aged whiskey that you had wanted more than anything, but with Esther over at the bar openly flirting up a storm with Joel Miller, you pushed down the desire for scotch and settled for the bitter lager instead.

It tasted awful, but it did the job well enough. The best part was that the bottles of beer were all readily available in coolers all around the barn, and you didn’t need to go up to the bar to get one. 

The last thing you’d wanted was to find out what was going on between Esther and Joel.

“And the next thing you know, poor John is being chased all around the chicken coop by a bunch of broody hens!” Martha finishes her story, throwing her hands up in the air. “God, I wish I would’ve had a camcorder in hand. It was the funniest thing I ever did see in almost two damn decades.”

Everyone sitting around the table bursts into a fit of loud, hearty laughter.

“Oh okay, so then that would probably explain why there weren’t many eggs in stock at the market the other morning,” you tease, only fueling the commotion.

John glares at you, and you shrug innocently, fighting back another laugh. Six foot two with big, broad shoulders and arms, you found it both very difficult and very amusing to picture the bulky blond man being chased around by a flock of pissed off chickens.

“I’d really like to see any of you guys try and take a broody hen’s eggs away from her with ease!” John huffs out before taking a gulp of his beer. He’s red in the face, and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Assholes.”

Martha leans over, whispering, “See? I told you it would make him mad.”

You giggle, lightly shaking your head at her. “Talk about ruffling some feathers, huh?”

She snorts into her plate of potatoes, jabbing her elbow into your side. “Let’s stop before he really gets all riled up, or else we’re going to get an earful.”

“Oh come on, John. Lighten up,” you grin over at him from across the table. “I know what’ll make you feel better. You guys want to hear a really, and I mean really embarrassing story?” You pause for a second or two, just long enough for everyone to nod eagerly. “Let me tell you about what Stella did to me the other day in her stall when I tried to take her temperature, it was absolutely awful. Okay, so there I am about to—”

“Sorry to interrupt you folks, but do you all mind if we steal this sweet little lady here for just a minute or two?” The sound of Tommy Miller’s smooth, deep voice causes you to stop abruptly mid-sentence. You glance over your shoulder only to see him approaching the table. He’s closely followed by Maria, who had traded her usual patrol duty attire for a light blue denim dress that sat off of her shoulders, the flowing skirt falling just above knees. Her white cowboy hat matches her husband’s.

“Aw c’mon, Miller! She was just about to tell us a story!” Peter, Martha’s husband, exclaims as he drapes his arm around his wife’s shoulders

Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I promise we won’t keep her too long, alright?”

You immediately notice that he’s holding a drink in each hand, each glass filled almost to the rim with a bold, rich amber liquor over ice. The only reason that you’d immediately known one of the two drinks was meant for you was because Maria had just discovered that she was pregnant. It was still a secret that very few people knew about, but the minute she confirmed it with a pregnancy test earlier that month, she’d come running to your door to tell you. It’s the reason she’s been avoiding booze all evening—she’s been sipping on lemonade all night instead. 

“Excuse me,” you nod politely to the group of friends you’d been sitting with and stand up from the table. You follow Tommy and Maria over to a far corner of the barn where the three of you could talk somewhat privately. Accepting the glass from Tommy, you offer him a grateful smile, pleased that you’d gotten the drink you had wanted after all. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” He nods and tips the brim of his cowboy hat to you in his typical, gentleman-like manner. He’d never lost an ounce of those Texas manners.

Maria loops her arm through his. “Well, it looks like tonight was a real success,” she states as she glances around the room, her pride written clearly across her face. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Absolutely,” you agree, enthusiastically. You smile again and lift your glass to the couple as you toast, “Another year and another success. Here’s to many, many more to come.”

“Cheers to that, little lady,” Tommy grins and lifts up his glass, clinking the rim of it to yours before taking a generous drink, nearly draining it in one single gulp. “Thanks for stoppin’ by earlier and helpin’ set the place up, by the way. We really appreciate it.”

You wave your free hand at him. “Oh, no need to thank me at all. You already know that I was more than happy to help out,” you tell him as you take a careful sip of whiskey. The hard liquor burns its way down your throat in the sweetest way. Taking another sip, you turn to look at Maria, unable to help yourself from admiring her gorgeous, natural glow. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” Maria replies with a smile, placing her free hand over her flat stomach. At only a few weeks along, she still had quite a long way to go before she began to show. “Just a little bit of morning sickness here and there, but so far, so good.” She pauses and leans her body into Tommy’s side. “I never thought I’d be having a baby in my forties,” she muses with a laugh. “I thought that train had left the station a long time ago. But I guess life had something else planned for me.”

“For us,” Tommy corrects, playfully nudging her.

“For us,” Maria echoes, giving him a loving kiss on his cheek. “Luke calls it a geriatric pregnancy. He told me I’m automatically considered high risk, due to my age and all. But we’re hoping it’ll go smoothly.”

You detect the genuine concern behind her optimistic smile and reach out, gently touching her arm. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine. You just have to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself and getting plenty of rest.” You point a finger at her, wagging it back and forth. “So, that means no more patrol duties for you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh I know,” she laughs again. “I’m on light work duties starting next week and in a few months, it’ll be strict bed rest for me. At least, that’s what Luke recommended, but I’m hoping to stay on my feet for a little bit longer than that.” She tilts her head curiously to the side as she looks at you. “Speaking of Luke, is he around? We haven’t seen him at all tonight.”

Throat bobbing, you grip your glass tightly in your hand. The corners of your mouth threaten to turn downward, but you manage to hold your smile well enough.

At this point, you had pretty much lost track of the number times you’d been asked about Luke.

Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do you think there’s a chance he’ll show up tonight? Can’t you go home and convince him to join us? 

You just about loathed the way he was considered to be a hero in Jackson. The way that every single person in the community adored the man to pieces made you sick to your stomach—Luke was anything but a hero, but nobody knew that. Not a single soul knew the real him, the monster that emerged behind closed doors, the terrible things he did when no one was around.

There had been an occasion or two where you had considered going to Tommy and Maria about it, to tell them all about the horrors that went on within the walls of your home. But even when they’d point out a bruise on your arm or a scrape on your cheek, you would lose the courage and chalk it up to a clumsy accident or injuries sustained while on the job—hell, just a few months ago, you’d blamed an injured shoulder on Ranger, telling Tommy that his beloved stallion had accidentally kicked you during one of your routine examinations. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it hadn’t been his horse who put you in a sling for three weeks, it had been Luke. But how the hell could you do that?

Luke is the commune’s physician. The commune’s only physician. 

Besides the two older nurses who worked in the clinic along with him, he was the only medically trained professional who knew how to treat severe injuries, perform minor surgeries, and diagnose illnesses—as much as you hated to admit it, Jackson needed him. If you told Tommy and Maria about everything that he’d done to you over the last two years, then you’d risk getting Luke locked up in the town jail, or possibly even thrown out and exiled from the settlement. What would that mean for the people in the community who fell ill or became injured and needed a doctor?

Maybe he wasn’t a hero to you, but to everybody else, he was. People could die without him and his medical knowledge. Hell, Maria would need Luke now more than ever now that she was pregnant.

For as much as you wanted to tell them the truth about him, you just couldn’t find the guts to do it, not when the decision would impact every single person in Jackson.It would be too selfish.

So, you kept quiet and continued to let it happen because what else could you do? 

Nothing. 

There wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it.

Tommy says your name, snapping you back out of your thoughts. “Hey, you alright?” he asks you as he gingerly touches your shoulder. “You zoned out on us for a minute there.”

You blink. “Yeah sorry, I’m alright. Um, Luke decided to stay at home and get some rest,” you reply as you shift awkwardly from boot to boot, feeling a sudden heat flood your face. “He’s been working a lot of hours at the clinic and making house calls as well, so he’s just been really tired, you know?”

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Maria frowns. “Tommy and I were hoping we could say this to the both of you together, but I suppose you’ll have to give him the message on our behalf when you get home to him later tonight.”

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What is it?”

“We know we don’t say this as often as we should, but you and Luke do so much for us. So much for Jackson,” Tommy says, sincere gratitude dripping from his tone. “We’re damn lucky to have the two of you here. Me and Maria, and everyone in this community, we’re all deeply indebted to both of you for all you do.”

You stare at him. “Everyone here works very hard, Tommy—”

“Now, I ain’t saying they don’t,” he interrupts you by holding up his hand. “But let’s be honest here. Luke, he takes good care of all of our people, you take good care of all of our horses—people and horses, that’s what keeps this place runnin’ like a well oiled machine and you know it just as well as we do. Without the both of you lookin’ after our two most important resources, I ain’t all too sure where the hell this place would be.”

Maria nods in agreement with her husband and squeezes his arm. “Oh, don’t be so modest,” she remarks upon seeing the bewildered expression on your face. “He’s right. And we need you to know how much we appreciate everything the two of you do for this community.”

Tommy grins, raising his glass in a toast. “To you and Luke.”

Stomach churning, you flash them your very best smile and lift your own glass, clinking it against his and then to Maria’s bottle of lemonade. “Well, I will certainly give him the kind message when I get home tonight. Thank you.” You take a quick sip of your drink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The room feels hot, like it had been lit on fire and you were standing too close to the flames. “It’s starting to feel a bit warm in here. I’m going to go outside for a minute to get some fresh air. Excuse me.”

Before either of them can utter another word, you spin around on your heel and hastily make your way across the barn towards the exit, being careful not to bump into the dancing couples on the dance floor along the way. Even as you hurried out, you’d caught sight of Ellie sitting with Dina at one of the tables, digging into her plate full of barbecue. Dina had leaned over and whispered something into Ellie’s ear and Ellie let out a loud, obnoxious cackle through a mouthful of food.

Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but smile—an actual, genuine smile this time around.

At least Ellie seemed to be having a good time.

That’s more than enough for you.

Joel glimpses over Esther’s shoulder. 

His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and concern as he watches you practically run out of the barn alone with a drink clutched in your hand and a strange expression on your face—you appear to be upset over something.

The blonde in front of him had been going on and on about where she was from, although he hadn’t quite been listening to her the entire time she had been talking—or at all. 

Had Esther said Vermont? Or maybe it had been Virginia?

Joel wasn’t all too sure, but he didn’t care enough to ask her to clarify. Besides, his thoughts were far too busy preoccupied with someone else. Someone he needed to make sure was alright.

“Listen Esther, s’been real nice talkin’ to you,” he states as he offers the woman the most polite smile he can possibly muster up for her. He tries to ignore the awkward way she’d pouted her lips at him, a sad, disappointed look flashing in her eyes. “But I’ve gotta go and take care of somethin’ for a minute. Will you excuse me?”

He doesn’t even give Esther the chance to respond. Setting his drink down on the counter, he gives her a quick nod goodbye and steps around her. He starts towards the barn’s exit, but before leaving, he tosses a quick glance in Ellie’s direction just to make sure she’s still doing okay without him. He had been keeping a close and watchful eye on her from the bar the entire time. After a while, it soon became apparent to Joel that Ellie had been doing just fine. She’s scarfing down another heaping helping of bison and potatoes, grinning from ear to ear as she talks with Dina, who seems to be enjoying her company despite her poor table manners.

Joel steps outside into the night and he takes a look around, searching for you among the small, scattered groups of people who stood mingling with one another. Gossiping women, drunk and rowdy patrolmen, children running around—he jumps slightly as a giggling little redheaded girl who can’t be older than five circles around his legs with a curly haired boy who is about the same age chasing after her. He lightly shoos them away from him and they take off running in another direction.

He scans his surroundings once more.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Humming, Joel glances down.

He notices a long trail of footprints left behind by what had to be a pair of cowboy boots, similar to the ones you’d been wearing. The strange way in which they veered off in a random direction away from the rest of the crowd tips him off almost a bit too easily—he knows they belong to you. Without giving it a second thought, he starts to follow your tracks and they lead him all the way around to the back of the barn.

That’s where Joel finds you, leaning against the wooden paddock fence. You’re back is to him, your head tilted upwards. Your gaze seems to be lost somewhere up in the velvet, purple night sky and you’re swaying along to the pretty country melody that, even outside, can still be heard coming from inside the barn.

Turn around, a sound voice in the back of his mind tries to reason with him. Go go back inside.

He ignores it, his legs moving forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching on the rocks in the dirt as he draws closer to you causes you to jump. Whirling around, you gasp and your free hand flies to your chest.

“M’sorry,” Joel quickly apologizes, holding up both his hands to show you he’s not a threat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Joel?” You’re surprised to see him.  “What are you doing out here?”

The area out behind the barn is just as dark as it is secluded, however, the moon is full, big, and bright, its silvery glow illuminating each and every single one of your features in such a beautiful way that it makes his throat go dry, just like it had earlier that evening when he’d first seen you in that dress.

“Well ain’t that funny. I was actually just ‘bout to ask you the same exact question, darlin’.” He falls into step beside you, leaning back against the fence. “What are you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

“Oh, I just needed some fresh air, that’s all,” you reply with a small, light shrug of your shoulders. You turn back around, leaning your forearms on top of the wooden fence, both hands wrapped firmly around your glass of whiskey. You’re standing so close to Joel that your shoulder touches his, though neither of you make a move to put space in between your bodies. “What’s your excuse?”

“Needed a breather from Esther,” he confesses. 

It was partially the truth. 

He couldn’t tell you he’d really come outside to check on you.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you like her?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all,” Joel says, letting out a chuckle. He shakes his head. “She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight, y’know?” He pauses for just a brief second and crosses his arms over his chest, his sudden change in position causing his shoulder to press even closer against your own. “Tommy mentioned her to me when we were havin’ lunch together yesterday. Said he’d be willin’ to set us up, but I didn’t think his dumbass would actually follow through with it.”

Confused, you shoot him a strange look.

“I’d told him I wasn’t interested in meetin’ her, but Tommy’s always had a real habit of not listenin’ to me,” he remarks, shaking his head once again.

The question falls from your lips before you can even think about trying to stop it. “Why aren’t you interested in her?” you blurt. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and add in a nonchalant tone, “Esther’s gorgeous, Joel. Most guys around here would jump at the chance to be with her.”

“S’like I told you. She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight.”

“So then, what kind of company are you looking for?”

Joel hesitates, then answers honestly. “Yours.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart skipping a nervous beat.

He tests the waters. “That alright to say?”

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to utter.

Fighting to take a steady, even breath, you clutch at your glass even harder. 

“Y’know, when I was on my way out here, I saw Ellie and Dina still sittin’ together,” Joel finally says after a minute or two, breaking the silence. “She honestly seems to be havin’ a real good time with her.” He nudges your shoulder with his own, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turns to you and asks, “Now tell me why I’ve got this strange little feelin’ that you had somethin’ to do with that?”

Your immediate expression of guilt prompts his grin. 

You’d been caught red handed.

“Okay, so I may or may not have talked to Dina earlier today while we were setting up the barn for the party. I asked if she could do me a favor and at least try and talk to Ellie tonight,” you admit, sheepishly. “I told her about how much Ellie reminds me of her, and how I thought they would get along.” You feel his dark eyes fix themselves intently on you and the heat creeps to your cheeks as you continue to explain yourself to him. It’s only just now occurred to you that perhaps you should have ran the idea by Joel—he’s her guardian and the last thing you want to do is cross his boundaries. “It took a little convincing, but she agreed. Dina can still be quite shy sometimes, but she’s a really good girl, Joel. I promise.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “Really? You did that?”

“Yeah. I did.” Anxiously, you take a long sip of liquor before adding, “I hope that’s okay.”

“‘Course it is, darlin’. I really appreciate you doin’ that for Ellie.” Joel’s gaze softens and meets yours with genuine sincerity. “I appreciate everythin’ that you’ve done for her. It means a lot to me. More than I can probably even explain.”

“I can tell how important she is to you.”

Joel nods. “Ellie’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He stops, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “She’s been through a whole lot—a hell of a lot more than anyone her age should have to go through.” Once again, he pauses momentarily, trying to keep his emotions in check. He swallows harshly and subconsciously leans closer towards you without realizing it. “Ellie, she ain’t my blood, but she’s my daughter. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t take care of her. I thought that I didn’t have what it takes to protect her.”

“And what about now?”

“Now that we’re here, I feel real different ‘bout it all. I finally feel like I can keep Ellie safe, y’know? Give her the life she deserves,” Joel states, sounding a bit relieved, almost like he’s only just now made the realization that things are different now—it’s not like it was while they’d been out on the road. Each day isn’t a fight for survival, a game of trying to stay alive long enough just to see the next. Sleeping in the dirt, watching her go hungry, seeing her have to wear the same dirty clothes for weeks at a time, those were all now things of the past.

Pulling yourself back from the fence, you glance up at him with a curious expression. 

“Ellie hasn’t told me all that much about what she’s gone through—about what either of you have gone through.” You catch sight of the worry that flashes in his eyes and reassure him, “And I don’t plan on asking because it isn’t any of my business. But in the short time I’ve gotten to know Ellie, I’ve already seen it in her eyes, Joel. It’s all there.”

“What’s there?”

“Every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Joel hangs his head. “Jesus.”

And just like that, he somehow feels like a fucking failure all over again.

“I know that you’re worried about her, Joel. I don’t blame you, but you’re doing all that you can do,” you remind him, the kindness in your voice bringing him the warmth and comfort he’s been needing for far too long. “You’re here in the community now and she’s safe. That’s what matters—all the rest is going to fall right into place soon enough. Just give her a bit of time and don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Joel sighs. “I just want what’s best for her, y’know? Just like any normal parent would want for their kid.”

“And you are doing the best that you can, just like any normal parent would.” You reach out, gently placing your hand on his bare forearm, your thumb brushing his warm skin. Your mere touch sends a tingle up his spine, and he can’t help but wonder if the connection had done the same for you. “It’s easy to see how much you care about her. How much you love her.”

“I do love her,” he murmurs. It feels odd, almost foreign for him to say it out loud. Of course he loves Ellie, and although he’s fairly certain she knew that and she loved him too, those three specific words had never been exchanged between them, and he had a hunch they never would be. “All I want is to do right by her. After everythin’ she’s been through—I just want her to finally be happy.”

“That says a lot about the kind of man you are.”

Biting back a scoff, Joel shakes his head. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s a good person—you’d be horrified if you knew about all the blood that stained his hands, about all of the things he’d done in the last two decades to survive. He’d stolen, he’d destroyed, he’d murdered. He’d lied.

He was not a good man. 

Your hand drops away from his arm, a lot sooner than either of you would have liked.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks, deciding to switch the focus of the conversation onto you. “How’d you end up in good ol’ Jackson, Wyoming?” 

“You take another sip of your drink, which is now completely watered down by the melted ice in your glass. “Well, like I told you, I grew up in New Mexico on a horse ranch. It was me, my parents, and my little brother,” you start to explain. “After the outbreak happened, me and my family ended up in the Albuquerque QZ. We were there for quite some time, until there was a breach at one of the gates and the zone was overrun with infected.” You pause briefly as the memories of that night come flooding back. By now, you’ve repressed them enough that they don’t bring you to your knees the way they used to when you had been younger. “Me and my dad made it out alive, but my mom and my brother didn’t.”

Joel frowns. “Shit. M’real sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a tiny nod. “After me and my dad made it out of the zone, we found this group of people who were heading east, trying to get to Boston. It wasn’t long before everyone started to get picked off one by one—by infected, raiders, and even slavers. Somehow, me and my dad survived all that, but we found ourselves alone again. We were starving, had no shelter, and winter was just around the corner. We honestly didn’t know what we were going to do, and even though neither of us ever said it to each other, we were both so sure we were going to die. But then Tommy and his patrol group came across us one night. Once we proved that neither of us were infected, he brought us in.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Joel states. He never would have even guessed.

You just seemed so well put together.

“Haven’t we all?” You let out a humorless laugh.

A silence falls like a curtain over both of you, but it’s comfortable.

Tranquil. 

Although it had been a warmer night, it was now much later into the evening, and a chilly breeze whips its way through the settlement, whisking its cool and crisp fingers through your hair. It causes the white daisy you’d been wearing to fall, and the flower flutters to the ground, landing right in between Joel’s boots. Without giving it a second thought, he reaches down and picks it up, being careful as he gingerly dusts the dirt off of the delicate petals. He turns to you, tucking the flower back behind your ear. As his hand falls away from you, his index finger accidentally grazes the soft skin of your cheek, and every part of him floods with the burning desire to feel more of you.

“M’sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say—and you mean it. You can’t even remember the last time someone’s touch set you on fire like this. You’d been feeling cold and empty and numb for so long, and while all of the things that Joel’s making you feel had become almost foreign to you, they’re starting to reignite that spark of life inside of you that you thought you’d lost a long time ago.

From the inside of the barn, you and Joel hear the band begin to play their cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love. 

“Elvis, huh?” Joel muses with a hum. He sounds impressed.

You’re not sure if all the alcohol you’d been consuming throughout the evening has only now just decided to kick into full gear in your system or whether you really do just lack any kind of common sense, but you find yourself looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes. “How about another dance?”

His lips part slightly in surprise. “To this song?”

Every inch of your skin burns hot with embarrassment and your fingers curl tighter around your glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that I really love to dance,” you sputter out nervously, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You only dig yourself further into the hole as you continue to ramble. “Luke doesn’t like to dance. He never wants to dance with me—”

That’s all Joel had needed to hear.

He reaches for your glass, prying it out of your grasp. He sets it down on top of the fence and holds his hand out to you. “I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”

Looking up at him in surprise, you accept and place your hand in his. His other hand finds your waist and the two of you begin swaying along to the music—a smile that could light up the entire town breaks out across your face. 

Joel didn’t know Luke, but he couldn’t fathom how the man you were married to wouldn’t do just about anything to see that smile.

“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance,” you tease, noticing that he’s leading you.

Flashing you a cocky grin, he shrugs. “Guess the kid was right. I ain’t so bad for fifty six with creakin’ knees.”

Remembering Ellie’s words from earlier, you throw your head back and laugh.

His stomach turns, twisting in a tangle of desire and nerves.

You’re married.

But that does nothing to stop the want, the need. 

For either of you.

Being in his arms, it’s wrong.

It’s more than an innocent dance—it’s the beginning of something that’s bound to lead to nothing but trouble and you both know it.

Joel continues to lead you and begins singing along to the familiar lyrics, quietly, but just loud enough for you to hear the sultry richness of his voice. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” he sings, subconsciously giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

Impressed, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a nice voice, Joel.”

“Y’think so?”

You nod. “I do. What, were you a singer in your first life or something?”

“Close.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“I was a contractor,” Joel replies, grinning as he elicits another sweet laugh from you. “Owned my own construction business with Tommy. I did enjoy singin’ though—and playin’ the guitar too. But it was a hobby more than anythin’ since I don’t think music would’ve paid the bills.”

You smile up at him. “Oh, well now you’re going to have to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe even treat me to a whole song?”

“I still owe Ellie a song,” he remembers, shaking his head. “But I don’t have a guitar, so it gets me out of it.”

“Well then, we’re going to have to find you one and when we do, you’ll have to play something for us,” you tell him. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Joel agrees without thinking. He starts singing along to the lyrics again. “Take my hand, take my whole life too—” 

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.” You try not to laugh again at the shock on his face as you finished the lyric for him.

“Hey now, you’ve got a real nice voice yourself, darlin’.”

Darlin’. 

You shouldn’t let him call you that.

Out of respect for your husband, you should tell him it’s not okay. None of this is okay.

But it is okay. 

“Oh, now you’re just trying to flatter me, Miller,” you accuse him, playfully. 

The song ends and neither of you make a move to let go of one another.

Joel’s eyes fall to your pretty, plush lips and it takes every ounce of strength he has inside of him not to lean down and press his own lips against them.

Finally, he forces himself to let you go and takes a step backward, clearing his throat. “I should, uh—I should go and find Ellie so I can get her home. S’gettin’ kinda late.”

You nod, your heart slamming painfully against your sternum. “Of course,” you say, slightly breathless. “I’ll come along with you so I can say goodnight to her.”

As the two of you make your way around the barn and back towards the entrance, Joel sees a tall, slender man with short dark hair approaching. He’d called out your name and something inside Joel’s mind just clicks together—he knows exactly who the man is before you’ve even had a chance to open your mouth and say his name.

“Luke?” Stopping abruptly in your tracks, you stiffen and squeak out his name. “What—what are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey.” He comes up to you and immediately takes your arm, pulling you from Joel’s side and over to his. “Tommy told me you might be out here. I was just coming to look for you.”

It takes thirty seconds for Joel to size him up. Luke’s younger than himself, definitely closer in age to Tommy—somewhere around his mid to late forties. He’s a lot more clean cut than most of the other rugged men in the commune with his short, neatly kept dark hair and a clean shaven face. Though he’s on the thinner side, he’s in decent shape, but Joel’s wider, broader and far, far more intimidating.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again.

“Now, is that really how a loving wife should greet her husband?” Luke laughs, pulling you even closer into his side. 

Joel isn’t all too fond of the way he’s holding you. 

He’s rough, harsh.

“I decided to come and check it out. See what all the fuss is about,” Luke says. He glances at Joel, his green eyes giving him a once over—sizing him up, just like Joel had done to him. “Don’t be rude, honey. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”

You speak softly, almost too softly.

“Luke, this is Joel Miller.”

“Ah. You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”

Joel tries not to sound too curt, but fails. “That’s right.”

“Joel, this is Luke.” You can’t even look him in the eye as you introduce your spouse. “He’s my husband.”

Luke extends a courteous hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Joel.” His other hand finds and takes yours. “I do hope that my wife here hasn’t been bothering you tonight. She can be quite the little chatterbox. Makes me wish she came with a mute button sometimes.”

Joel’s dark eyes briefly flit to Luke’s hand holding yours, taking note of the way he’s gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Between that and the comment he’d just made about you, Joel had every fucking desire to connect his fist to the side of Luke’s face.

“Luke, please,” you whisper, throwing him a tiny glare. 

“Oh come on now, honey. Where did your sense of humor go? You know I’m only joking,” Luke states, squeezing your hand a little harder, causing you to squirm.

Something tells Joel he’s not kidding around.

He’d meant what he had said.

“She hasn’t been a bother at all,” Joel speaks in your defense. “Actually, I came out here to talk to her and to thank her for bein’ so kind to my kid, Ellie. Your wife here, she’s been nothin’ but good to her since we arrived.”

“Well, as long as she wasn’t being a bother.” Luke glances down at you. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s a few people that I still need to see and say hello to inside. Come along, honey.” He glances at Joel, a strange glint in his eye as he tells him, “Welcome to Jackson, Joel.”

His jaw clenches as he watches him drag you into the barn.

Nothing about Luke sat right with him.

The way he’d spoken to you, touched you, treated you.

And then there was you.

The light had instantly left your eyes the second he’d come around. 

Something wasn’t right.

A rough hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts.

“Really, Joel? Really? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy hisses, yanking him over to the side of the barn where nobody would overhear him. “What the fuck did I tell you yesterday in the mess hall?”

“The hell are you fuckin’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

His brother glares at him. “I know that you ain’t as fuckin’ dumb as you look, Joel. What the fuck were you doin’ out here alone with her? Huh?”

Joel purses his lips together tightly in silence.

What had he seen?

Having read his mind, Tommy shoves his shoulder. “You were dancin’ with her you fuckin’ asshole? Did you fuckin’ forget that she’s a married woman?”

Joel rolls his eyes at him and aggressively shoves his hand off of his shoulder. “We were just dancin’ together, alright? Ain’t like we were makin’ out, Tommy. Can you fuckin’ relax?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Joel! If I saw any man that wasn’t me dancin’ with Maria like that, I’d be fuckin’ pissed. I’d kick his fuckin’ ass,” he spits. “Her husband just showed up to the goddamn party. You’re fuckin’ lucky that it was me who saw you out there with her and not him. What if he’d seen you two? Then what?”

“Christ, Tommy. Relax,” Joel tries again to calm him. “It was just a dance, alright? It was nothin’ more than that. Okay?”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good, ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ gonna say it again, big brother. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout her. I don’t need you to go around stirrin’ up any kind of trouble,” Tommy says, his voice firm. “We can’t have that kinda shit here. Maria won’t tolerate it, and y’know what, I won’t either. Don’t fuckin’ cause problems. Got it?”

“Didn’t plan on it,” Joel mutters, bitterly.

Tommy narrows his eyes at him.

“Just fuckin’ watch yourself, Joel,” he warns. “I fuckin’ mean it.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

[kiwisbell]

Whiskey Sour

chapter four: between the sheets

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 7.7k

a/n: let the fucking commence!

chapter 4: between the sheets

Joel's birthday.

Your car is still in the shop by Monday—Joel’s birthday—so you’ll be sleeping at your dad’s place. 

And so will Joel. 

“Is this what you guys usually do for birthdays?” you ask, looking up from your studying toward your dad, who's stocking the cooler with beer. “Drink, eat, and watch TV until you rot or pass out?”

“Any better ideas?” 

You roll your eyes. “Guess not.”

He opens the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t have a piece of—”

“Do. Not. Eat that cake,” you warn without looking up from your textbook. 

“Jesus. Bossy.”

“That’s Joel’s cake, Dad.” You look at him over the couch and grin. “Once he gets the first piece, you can pig out.”

“I didn't say pig out,” he mumbles. 

There's a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you offer, jumping upright and knocking your textbook off your lap. 

“Did you have an extra shot of espresso in your coffee this morning?” calls your father from the kitchen, but you're already in the foyer, opening the door for Joel. 

He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt, as usual, but wears them so nicely it's almost as exciting as a new outfit altogether. You opted for one of your sundresses, white and printed with daisies. “Hi,” you say, sounding more out-of-breath than you feel. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Fuck, this dress. Is he supposed to sit right next to you all night without reaching his hands under that flowy little skirt? It’s his goddamn birthday—he should be able to do whatever he wants to with whatever you offer him. But Mike’s here, in between the two of you, forever. So, all he can do is kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”

You beam up at him, and he’s not going to last the night when you look like this, dress like this. “You’ll love the cake,” you tell him, ushering him into the kitchen. 

“Happy birthday, you old asshole.” Mike pulls him into a hug and slaps him on the back. 

Joel chuckles. “Real nice, man.” 

“Don't mind my kid.” He jerks his head in your direction, where you've settled yourself on the couch again, surrounded and engulfed by textbooks and notebooks. “She doesn't know how to relax.”

“I know how to relax,” you say, nose still buried in your work. Joel knows you do. He helped you relax just a few nights ago. “Unless you two want to write this test for me, I’ll be multitasking tonight.”

Joel and Mike crack open a bottle each of Sam Adams and clink them together. “To gettin’ old,” says Mike. 

I’m the one who sat your daughter on my lap and made her come all over me. Can a young, stupid kid do that? Joel just grins, feeling a little bit of primordial pride. “To friends who should learn to shut the fuck up.” 

They drink at the same time, and you hold up a glass of water from your spot on the couch in cheers. “To being around long enough to remember when the Colosseum was built.”

Oh, you think you’re real fuckin’ funny. He’s got half a mind to drag you upstairs and stuff your mouth with his cock just to make you remember how good he makes you feel. Maybe it’ll fix that attitude; maybe it’ll just quiet you down for a bit. Joel shares a look with Mike, who’s trying not to laugh. “She said it.”

Mike sits in the chair next to the television before Joel can subtly usher him into the seat next to yours. He sets his jaw, lowering himself next to you, the corner of a textbook briefly jabbing him in the ass. If he looks long enough, he will see that your skirt has slipped up your thighs and the barest sliver of your ass is visible from where he sits. He would not know, of course, because he isn't looking. 

“Can we do gifts now?” you ask, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Joel’s heart squeezes at the thought of getting a present from you. 

Arms around his neck. Layers of clothing between you. Your body rubbing up against him, taking what you want. Sweet moans that hang from the ceiling of his brain. Stalactites. 

What more could you give him? 

“I don't see why not,” says Mike. “But since best goes last, you should give your present first.”

You roll your eyes and set all your things on the table, leaning over the armrest to produce a giant gift bag brimming with blue tissue paper. Joel, of course, does not look at the shape of your ass in his face. “Blue’s your favourite colour,” you tell him. 

It is. He doesn't even remember telling you. Joel takes out the tissue paper and pulls out the first item. It's a cowboy hat, tied with ribbon to a green plaid-patterned flannel. 

He looks at your pretty, smiling face. “In case you want to go back to your roots,” you supply. “I could see how much you missed the farm you grew up on, and I think you'd look great in a cowboy hat.”

Joel’s throat is tightening. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely. 

The next item makes him frown. It's bright pink and slightly squishy and—

“A yoga mat,” he says. Mike snorts, hiding it behind his beer bottle. 

“It matches mine!” He recalls the mat in your bedroom the day he helped you unpack your things. The tight black pants moulded to your ass. Do you want him to do yoga with you? “I know you've got a bad back, and it really helps reduce pain. Plus, flexibility is always important.”

Joel wants to bend you over that goddamn armrest and leave bruises on your ass in the shape of his fingerprints. You're awfully fucking bold, making him picture you folded in half and sweating, right in front of your father. But it's thoughtful. It really is. You want to help take away his pain, as if you don’t do that with every second you're in the same room as him. “Might have to teach me,” he says. 

“I’m a fantastic teacher, luckily for you.” You clap your hands together and tuck them under your chin, and he's falling, listing, into a place he cannot crawl out of. “Open the last one.”

It’s in an envelope—whatever it is. Joel gently tugs out the piece of paper inside and reads it. The lump in his throat has migrated to his eyes, prickling the nerves behind his nose. “You named a star after me?”

“Shit,” says Mike. “I should've gone first.”

“It’s official and everything,” you tell him. “NASA has this program. I thought it might be cool to look up and know one of them belongs to you.”

He’s getting fucking soft with age. Joel clears his throat, his fingers trembling a little as he puts everything safely back in the bag and meets your gaze. He wishes Mike weren't here. He wishes he could pull you up against him and show you exactly how fast his heart is racing. You know him. You're so kind, so thoughtful, so bright. He doesn't deserve to have these things, but Jesus, he needs you so badly it aches. He doesn't just want you. He likes you. He’s excited by you and he’s nervous around you. 

How can he simply move beyond a feeling like this? He doesn't think it’s possible for a person to walk past you on the street and simply forget. You demand attention. You deserve it. 

“Thank you,” he says, because there's nothing else to say. He's a man of action. He will show you his gratitude. But it will have to wait, and so will he. 

Your eyes twinkle, and somehow he knows that you're thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Mike's gift to him is a new toolkit, since his current one is approximately as old as you, and a new nine iron, “since your back will be on the mend soon and you can hit the course with me again.”

You wrinkle your nose. “You’re such a guy, Dad.”

“Yeah?” He pulls you into him, attacking your head and your cheeks with a flurry of kisses as you squeal with laughter. “That'll show you, smartass.”

Joel cannot ruin this. But he finds he doesn't have many reservations about ruining you for every other man you'll ever meet. He’s going to be selfish with you tonight. It’s his birthday, after all. 

The doorbell chimes its broken melody, and you open the door to find an unfamiliar man staring down at you with a crooked smile on his face. He has shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes, and he's wearing a denim jacket, holding up a six-pack of the same beer Joel and your father are drinking. 

“Well, hello,” he says. He's certainly Texan. 

“Hi,” you return politely, though it sounds a bit like a question. “I’m sorry, I don't think we’ve…”

“Sorry, darlin’. Tommy Miller.” He’s quick to shake your hand, and your brows shoot up. Now you know why you recognise that smile of his. 

You can't help but grin up at him. Good looks must run in the family. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy.”

“You must be Mike’s girl.” He clicks his tongue, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes glimmer with something you can almost call mischief. “I like your dress.”

You lift your brows. “I like your double denim. Very with the times.”

“Tommy, stop harassing her,” says your father from behind you. “Good to see you, man.”

He and Tommy slap their palms together in a purely male handshake while you take the beer from him and hurry back to the kitchen. “Your brother’s here,” you tell Joel in a hushed voice. “Didn't tell me he was so handsome.”

He cocks his head to the side, leaning his hip on the counter. “Yeah? He tell you he liked your dress?” 

“He did.”

“That's his favourite.” Joel steps closer to you and you have to tilt your chin up to see him better. “He once said that to a girl who was wearin’ pants.”

You let the laugh slip out before you can stop it. “He brought you beer.” You lift the case onto the counter. “He must be good for something.”

“Yeah.” A hand slips indecently between your thighs and two fingers snap the waistband of your panties (white and lacy, because you need to have a little fun). “Toyin’ around with what ain’t his,” he says gruffly. 

You gasp, practically jumping back from him when your dad and Tommy enter the kitchen. If you look flushed or nervous, neither of them say a word. Joel hugs his brother. “Good of you to finally show up.”

“Jackass.” Tommy claps him hard on the back a couple times. “If I’d known such a pretty lady was here, I’d have dressed better.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his unabashed flirting. He’s not a lot younger than Joel, but he's certainly got the brashness of someone who is. Joel pulls him into a headlock while your father ruffles Tommy’s perfect hair. “If you flirt with my daughter, Miller, you’ll have to match your nice outfits to your bruises.”

Tommy laughs, wriggling out of the headlock and giving you a wink as he smooths his hair down. “I think I look good in black.”

Tommy’s always had a bark five times the size of his bite, but Joel isn't fond of the teasing. Sure, he knows it's only teasing, getting a rise out of his brother, but he doesn't like the way you blush for him. “All right, I’m calling in the food.” Mike picks up the receiver and points at Tommy. “Don’t think I don’t mean it, dickhead.”

Tommy lifts his hands in surrender and Joel shoves him in the side with an elbow for good measure. You sit back down with your pile of books, and the younger Miller lowers himself next to you, breaking your concentration with all his questioning and schmoozing. 

Joel grits his teeth. If he can't get a fucking second alone with you tonight, he’ll burn up from the inside. He takes a swig of his beer to cool down as you politely entertain Tommy’s conversation. He’s sleeping in the guest room tonight because you offered to take the couch. It’s his birthday, you told Mike, and his back will thank him. 

The rest of the party is pleasant. The guys eat wings while you pluck away at a caesar salad, refusing to get your hands dirty if you're touching your books all night. Tommy leaves around ten, and Joel and Mike are both somewhat drunk by the time midnight rolls around. 

It’s two o’clock in the morning, no longer his birthday, when he sneaks downstairs. He feels mostly sober now, chugging back a glass of water at the sink. Mike’s been asleep for an hour or so, but you haven't. In fact, you're still working, sitting upright on the couch with the lamp on as you study. Joel’s stomach sinks. The salad from hours earlier is not even half-eaten. You’re yawning every minute, rubbing at your eyes as you attempt to finish your problem set. 

You hear a noise from the kitchen and look up to find Joel standing, watching, at the counter. “Hi,” you say in a groggy voice. 

“Oh, baby,” he says, meeting you at the couch and sitting next to you. His hand finds your thigh, at last, squeezing and kneading your flesh like he's wanted to do all night. It feels like victory: restraint paying off. It feels like his erratic heartbeat can finally settle. “You gotta sleep. This ain't healthy.”

“Chemistry doesn't sleep,” you say with a pout. He wants to nibble that pout right off your lips. Your eyes are lidded and reddish. “Looks like you don’t, either.”

Joel plucks the notebook out of your hands and sets it on the table. “Enough,” he says softly, his hand winding around your waist and resting on your lower back. He relishes the way your body melts, your shoulders sinking and your spine decompressing under his warm palm. “C’mere, baby.”

You go easily onto his lap, your dress bunching around your hips. His mere closeness raises goosebumps on your arms, your legs, his large hand caressing your right thigh. He was right; you're so fucking soft. 

Your eyes blink sleepily at him, your fingers threading through his brown-silver locks. “I like your hair,” you whisper. “I like your eyes and your smile and your moustache.”

Joel’s hand finds the crease between your thigh and your hip. He rubs circles into your hip bone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your thumb traces his mouth, your touch so reverent even in your half-asleep haze, and he will never have enough of you. “Would feel so good… between my legs.”

His cock is stirring in his pants again, warmed by your telltale heat. “You know how hard it was not to touch you today?” He keeps his voice quiet, knowing Mike’s snoring away upstairs, knowing you're both playing with fire. “This fuckin’ dress. You wanted to tease me?”

“I wanted…” You gasp when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. It swirls around his head and turns it fuzzy. You’re an aphrodisiac. “I wanted you to touch me. Just like this.”

He huffs into your throat, his strong nose guiding the path of his mouth. He cares little for caution when you smell the way you do— taste the way you do. His tongue darts out to place open-mouthed kisses up the veins in your throat, your pulse fluttering under his attention. You are the heady pull of closing eyes at dusk and the sweetness of dessert. 

Your hips grind against his cock the more he kisses his way up your neck, your wet pussy soaking through your little white panties. You feel so much closer to him than the last time, his need thick and insistent against you. He reaches the spot below your ear, sucking at a spot that makes you clutch the back of his head and press him to you, your cunt slick with your arousal. He grunts into your skin, licking and nibbling your earlobe, marking your body as he sinks further into the senseless plane of desire and he forgets that he isn't supposed to be doing this. 

“Joel,” you whisper, urging him back to look into his pitch-black eyes. “I want you to kiss me.”

No sane man can look into those sleep-soaked eyes and say no to you. He tips his chin up and presses his lips to yours. It's soft, gentle, and it feels like Rapture. 

He cradles the back of your head and gently pries open your mouth for him to lick into, sliding his tongue along yours as your breathing shifts and little gasps pour like honey from your throat. This is what he needs. This is the line that will reel his soul back up from hell. 

Your lips are soft and your skin burns for him. His hands become needier, bunching your dress higher up your hips so he can guide his fingers higher up your thighs, squeezing your ass and shifting to the juncture of your thighs. The white lace. He keeps your mouth against him as he toys with the waistband, feeling it give and slide under his touch. 

Your sighs send blood surging down to his cock until there's nothing left in his brain. All he knows is finding a way to get more: drawing more of those noises from you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body, giving you so much of him that you’ll never want anyone else. 

Joel groans softly into your mouth and breaks away to put his mouth to your jaw, your chin, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back so he can have better access to your throat. 

“Oh, my—” Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a stripe up your throat, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, every mild touch electrifying your body. 

He reaches your sternum, right above the neckline of this godforsaken dress, roughly tugging down the straps off your shoulders so he can finally— finally —see your pretty tits for himself. It isn't a dream this time. The dress pools around your waist, sitting on his lap in your father’s home, rocking your hips against his stiff cock and looking so fucking tired, so fucking beautiful, that he wants to sink right into you and become one. It’s the only way to cure this itch. 

He can never be close enough. 

“Joel.” Your fingers are still in his hair as he kisses all the way down your chest, a rough hand grasping your ribs and rubbing a thumb over your hard nipple. He’s taking his time exploring you, his hand secure around the base of your neck, the other adventuring across the planes and curves of you, indulging because he finally can. You let him, because it’s not his birthday anymore, but he’s been so patient. He's waited so long. 

And fuck, it feels good. Every tweak of your nipples, every playful nibble and suck sends jolts of pleasure to your cunt, the only spot of you he hasn't yet admired. Joel’s mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck.” It's more of a squeak this time, less of a whisper, and he squeezes your ribcage as if to stop your lungs from expanding, as if to say, Quiet. 

“That feels good,” you gasp, your head falling back, the back of your neck still warmed by the press of his palm. “Dreamed about this.”

You're waking up, though still a bit groggy, with everything he gives you. He kisses his way back to the hollow of your throat and looks up at you with those deep brown eyes, glimmering silver in the moonlight. “So have I,” he says. 

“You don't sleep.”

“No,” he agrees. The hand at your neck slides down to your lower back, to your ass, where he presses you down onto him. The graze of his zipper against your clit makes stars burst behind your eyes. Joel cocks his head. “Why do you think I can’t sleep lately, hmm? It’s because you wake me up. You and your body.” Another roll of your hips makes you drop your forehead to his. He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Can’t fuckin’ sleep when you're all I'm thinkin’ about, now, can I?”

You bite your lip, but this time, he can do something about it. He nudges his nose against your cheek and fits his mouth to yours. He dreams about you. He thinks of you. He wants you. 

“I don’t sleep much, either,” you tell him when he lets you up for air. 

“I know,” he says softly. You hold onto his wrist when he cups your face. “Such a thinker. You gotta let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel.” 

“I…” His cock is so hard. It’s a strong, thick pressure against your thigh, catching on your clit with each drag of your hips. You won't come like this again; you need him to feel good. “I want you in my mouth.”

You can feel him twitch against you, his pulse hammering against your mouth as you suck on his pressure point. “Jesus.” His hands fly to your hips. “Baby, I… Goddamn, we can’t… can’t risk it.”

He's right, of course. It doesn't stop you from grinding down against him and nibbling his lobe. “But it's your birthday.”

“Not—fuck, not anymore.”

“I want you to feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his cheek. 

“Jesus Christ.” He pulls you away, looking you hard in the eyes. “When I fuck you, baby, I want to hear you. I want to make you scream. I can’t do that here.” His mouth seeks yours, slow and sweet. “Lie down.”

Your eyes close on instinct when he kisses you, but your confusion lingers. “What…” 

“Lie down, and go to sleep.” He kisses your forehead, and it feels like finality. “Tomorrow night, when you get off work, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”

You shift reluctantly off his lap, resting your head on the arm of the couch and spreading your legs slightly so he can get a look at the wet patch on your panties. Your tired eyes are doe-like in the darkness. “And?” you ask, trailing your foot up his thigh. 

“And…” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs and leaving you bare underneath. You watch him with black eyes and a heaving chest as he stuffs your panties in his pocket. “I want you to wear that black thong you've got. You know the one I’m talkin’ about?”

You swallow. He’s seen your underwear collection? “Yes,” you say breathlessly. 

“I never thanked you,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to your soaking wet cunt and spreading your folds open, “properly. That was one hell of a birthday gift, baby.”

You can’t help but smile. “I want you to be happy.” 

Two fingers slide languidly through your wetness, making you twitch. “I’m real happy,” he says, “when you're with me.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

“Joel,” you whine, spreading your thighs wider, inviting him to touch you even though you know he can't. You know it's wrong. 

“Tomorrow night.” He's tired of denying himself of you. He's tired of letting you go on thinking there isn't a soul in this world who's willing to fight for your affection. “Go to sleep.”

For good measure, he closes the textbook on the table and stands up, leaving you wet, wanting, and dreaming of the promise of tomorrow. 

~

You’re quivering with anticipation when you hop up into the passenger’s seat in your little skirt and little black thong. 

“Show me,” is how he greets you, his eyes sliding lazily toward you and taking in your whole body. His jaw ticks as you slip the hem of your skirt up above your hips and show him the scrap of lace tucked between your cheeks. Apparently satisfied, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives you to his home. 

Inside, too impatient to bother flicking on the lights, he pushes you up against the front door and kisses you hard. His hands slide up your back as you wind your arms around his neck, your lips parting to welcome his tongue and feed your contented sighs into his mouth. Fuck, you're tense, your shoulders tight and your leg muscles strained from being on your feet all night. When his hands begin to wander, you have a feeling he knows exactly where you're hurting. 

You whisper his name, passing it from your throat to his mouth, and you realise it's the first word either of you have spoken since you got in his truck tonight. He growls your name, not once letting you up for air as his hands feel up your arms, your spine, your ribs, the flare of your hips. He touches your body like it's marble, and kisses you like you're water: he could chip you away, and you could slip right through his fingers, but you're here, and he cups you so gently in his palm that the marble will not crack. The water will not drip. 

All of the windows and doors are closed. All of the curtains are drawn, the lights off. But he wants you in his bedroom. He wants you where he knows the world will wait patiently outside a closed door and he’ll never have to worry about another soul seeing you the way he wants to see you tonight. He turns you around, backing you toward his room as you stumble to keep pace. All the while, his hands never leave your body, and his mouth never offers reprieve. His moustache and his beard scratch you, merciless, unrelenting. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, Joel kisses you until your lips are swollen and your pupils are so wide they engulf your irises. He cradles your head in his hand, and you place your palm to his heart. 

“You're wearing it,” you say with a grin. “The shirt I bought you.”

“Sorry I couldn't wear the hat.” Joel kisses his way from your cheek to your earlobe, nibbling slightly before he changes his trajectory downward. 

“That's okay,” you sigh, holding him to you as he playfully bites your collarbone. “I want you naked, anyway.”

He chuckles into your neck. “You first.”

His hand finds your ass, squeezing roughly over your little skirt. “Teasin’ me,” he grunts, grabbing at the fabric, so blind with need that he can't think straight long enough to find the waistband. Instead, he’s pulling the skirt up and over your ass just to grab handfuls of your soft flesh. “Jesus, you're beautiful.”

“What did you do with them?” Your soft voice breaks in half when he snaps the band of your thong against your hip. “The panties you took.”

“You wanna know?” Joel finally yanks down your skirt, leaving you in your shirt and that pathetic black fabric barely covering your pussy. “I took out my cock and I jerked off into them. Came on your pretty white lace, thinkin’ about the way you looked last night.”

Your breathing stutters, your grip tightening around the collar of his flannel shirt. “Fuck. Take this off, please.”

So polite. So sweet. Joel clicks his tongue, backing you toward the bed. “Arms up,” he orders. 

You obey so easily, letting him drag your shirt over your head. Joel unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, squeezing your tits in his rough hands and splaying his fingers over your ribcage. “I think about you,” he says lowly, “when I’m sleepin’. When I’m awake. When I’m supposed to be workin’. You have any idea how much company time you've lost me?”

You giggle, crowding him so you can press your lips to his throat. “You're your own boss. No such thing as company time.”

“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.” He hooks his thumb in the band of your thong, his other hand grasping your chin. “You gonna be good and listen to me? Let me help you feel good?”

There's a change in your eyes. Pouring cold metal into a cast and watching it melt. Reshaping it into something soft, malleable, warm.  “Yes, Joel.”

Fuck, if that doesn't send all of his blood soaring to his cock. Joel smiles down at you. “Take ‘em off, baby.”

You back away to give yourself enough room, looking right into his eyes as you make a show of sliding your thong down your legs, stepping out of it and lowering yourself onto the bed. He takes his eyes on a path over your stiff nipples, your pretty, glistening cunt on display for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and it makes you push your chest forward with a bit of pride knowing he likes you like this. 

“My beautiful girl.” He steps close to you, nudging your legs open so he can stand between them. You're naked for him. You're on his bed, wet and wanting for him. There is no compromise when it comes to you: he cannot let another man see you like this. A selfish man guards his treasures. A selfish man does not want, because he does not give away what he has. 

You sit primly on the edge, peering up at him with a pleading look in your eye. “Let me undress you.” You pop open a button on his shirt. “Please, Joel.”

He likes the sound of your begging, so he nods, allowing you to indulge, your fingers slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “So handsome,” you muse, dispensing with the flannel and putting your lips to his chest, his soft stomach, the freckles on his body that you've never been so lucky to see until now. He’s beautiful. He is the sum of years you've never seen, the experience of a man who's made his way in the world with his strong, capable body. He is the only man you ever want to know so intimately. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, backing away to take in the sight of your naked body. “Let me see you.”

And fuck, you want to make him so happy. You want to make him proud, make him feel good. Your hand slides leisurely down your body as you maintain eye contact, tracing the path from your sternum to your navel. His eyes look black in the darkness. You ease your thighs open, giving him a good view when you finally dip two fingers between your folds and bring them to your mouth, licking up your wetness. Slicked up with saliva, your fingers circle easily over your clit, your eyes fluttering and your head falling against the pillows. 

“That feels good,” you tell him, pinching your nipple. “Fuck, Joel, I need you. I need you.”

“You’ll get me, sweetheart. Just keep goin’.” He likes watching, it seems, making you go a little crazy, making you teeter precariously on an edge you'll never tip over. You push two fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your palm against your clit. Your moan turns high-pitched, your core burning with need you cannot satiate. Not when he's so close, looking at you, forcing you to touch yourself when all you know is the fire only he can stoke. 

But that's what he wants. He wants you to know that he’s got you liquified in the little pool in the palm of his hand. You're his. “You…” Rubbing your clit slowly, you try to meet his eyes even though yours are closing. “You get off on this? Sick bastard.”

Joel tuts. “Did I say to close your eyes?”

“Joel, I—”

“Keep. Your eyes. Open.” You increase your pace, your hips bucking a little into your hand, and peel your eyes open. “Keep ‘em on me. Just like that.”

“I need…” You sigh in frustration, trying to give him your best pitiful look even though you know it's fruitless. You’re putty in his hands. You'll touch yourself for as long as he wants you to, even if you never come. “I need…”

“Say it,” he says, and you hate how soft he sounds. The kiss of a warm breeze at nighttime, the silvery wisps of air that curl up from between lips at the intake of the cigarette smoke. He coaxes you, coos at you, and it could be mocking, if he didn't like you so damn much. “Say what you need, baby.”

“I need to come, Joel. I need you. Fuck, I need you to touch me. I’ll… I’ll die if you don't touch me.”

Joel lifts his brows. Spoiled. You’re fucking spoiled and it's all his fault. It's your fault he's so hard, close to ripping a seam in his goddamn jeans, his cock throbbing and leaking precum. “Tell me why you're so fuckin’ wet. Tell me why you're cryin’.”

“You!” Head tossed back on the pillows. Eyes barely open, tears blurring your vision. Fingers frantically rubbing your poor clit to no avail. “You, Joel. You. It’s you. I’m yours.”

That. 

That's what he wanted to fucking hear. 

Joel unzips his jeans and disposes of them so fast it's like they're ablaze. Your fingers slow their relentless pace on your clit to watch his thick, hard cock slap up against his stomach. “No underwear?” you rasp. “That’s a little whorish of you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel grabs your ankle and manoeuvres you so you're lying flat on your back. You yelp, arousal shooting pants of pleasure through your body at his manhandling. “You wanna fuckin’ talk?” he grunts, crawling onto the bed and situating himself between your legs just so he can bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts with shock.

He holds firmly into your thighs, leaving wet kisses from your navel to your needy clit. It's where he's wanted to be since the first fantasy. The first dream. The first sight. You look down at him, silver locks of hair shining in the darkness, and your gaze is so reverent that his heart wants to beat its wings and unshackle itself. A heart cannot be contained with a look like that—it must go free. It must expand. 

Your fingers thread gently through his hair, and it’s all the affirmation he needs. Somewhere in the air between you, two hands lock, and two souls intertwine. 

His tongue is hot between your slick folds. There are already tears in your eyes from your teasing, but it's something different altogether when Joel’s mouth finds your clit. The pleasure is so hot it freezes your veins. You're locked in place, the space between your brows creasing, your mouth falling open, as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 

Defibrillator. Each measured lick is a patch wrapped around a rib, a nerve, a muscle. Each administration hurls you through space. You're crashing into the stars on the way, bright white flashing behind your eyes. 

Tactile. The scratch of his beard and moustache rubs your soft skin raw. Your smell, your taste, tang and potency and the nectar of your sweet, soft gasps. He's spreading you open on a banquet table. He's licking into your cunt and making you mewl like a whore. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, so happy. 

He can't be going to hell. Hell is not the taste of you. Hell is not the way you fist his hair or cry his name. Hell is not—has never been—your face, your body, your voice. Hell does not know the shape of you. 

This is the other place. 

His tongue circles your slick entrance, but it does not push past. Not yet. He moves back up toward your clit, dragging his tongue across each electrified nerve over and over and over—

His fingers bruise your thighs. His grip does not relent. Neither does yours. You cry his name, wet and gasping, a drowning woman seeking the muffled, distorted light above the surface. Joel’s lips seal around your clit, sucking and lapping at the rest of you until you're shaking and he can barely hold on. 

He does not stop when your orgasm crests. When your chest heaves in a ragged moan that sounds like pulling an open wound over broken piano strings. When your body stiffens, then relaxes, riding out the rhythm like a heartbeat as you come with such force that the pleasure has nowhere to go. Only up. Up. Up—

He isn't stopping. He's closed his eyes, drowning your anchor, forcing you to squeeze your own shut. He keeps going —licking broad stripes through your pussy, making out with it like he's fucking drunk off the taste of you. 

He’s drunk. He registers your orgasm, but he does not register that he needs to pull back, let you rest, fit his cock inside you to relieve his own arousal. He can hear your weak, whimpering cries, can feel the way you jerk against him when his nose nudges your sensitive clit. He cannot grasp anything except this. You taste so fucking good. You taste like relief. You taste like all the chances he wants to take. 

“Joel, I…” You're so weak you can barely speak, pushing him closer to your cunt, letting him take you even though you're not sure you can—

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs tremble as you come a second time under his expert tongue. Joel grunts, apparently satisfied this time, finally lifting his head up from between your legs and pressing kisses from your thighs to your calves. He lifts himself up to his knees, securing your thighs around his hips. 

His cockhead taps your cunt, a small puddle of precum gathering on your pretty clit. Just because he can, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the pearly white liquid over your pussy, notching himself at your hole. 

You catch a glimpse of how his girth dwarfs your tight entrance and your eyes widen. “Joel… you’re…” 

“I know,” he says. “You gonna be okay?”

A steely determination settles in the crease of your brow, and you hug your thighs tighter around his hips. “I can take it.”

That's his girl. Joel pushes his hips forward, watching your hole seal over the head, wet and fucking warm. “Jesus,” he mutters. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter. 

“Focus right here, baby,” he says, patting your cheek. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking right into his as he feeds his cock into you. 

You gasp, blinking away tears as he bottoms out, so thick and heavy you can feel him in your belly. And he’s so smug, the bastard, giving you that wicked smirk. When he rolls his hips, pushing the head of his cock so deep that it kisses your womb, you choke on your moan. “You’re… such an… asshole.”

“Tell me all about it,” he says, securing his hand on the back of your thigh and pushing it toward your chest. The angle deepens, stars soaring across your vision, and he begins to fuck you. 

It's the cloying haze of ecstasy. Being inside you burns holes through him, cigarettes on skin. He's vaguely aware of the slick noises his cock draws from your wet pussy, the slam of the headboard against the wall as he fucks you into the mattress. His back pinches in pain and he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but you look so cock-drunk, your head lolling and your eyes rolling back, that he can't bring himself to care. 

Your hands claw at his chest, his shoulders, trying to pull him down toward you even though your leg is bent back toward your head. He gives you a moment of reprieve to lean over you, his hand braced next to your head and his mouth slanting over yours. You hum happily, your fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, and he will do anything—anything—to make you feel good. 

In a flash, he twists your leg so you're on your stomach, then hauls you up by your hips so you're on your hands and knees, all without pulling out of you. “Joel!” you squeak. 

“Fuck. This body.” He slides one hand up your spine as he slams into you from behind, gritting his teeth and pummeling your ass with his hips. “This tight… fuckin’… body.”

“Ah, fuck—” Your body jolts forward and Joel grabs the headboard just to steady you, stopping it from slamming against the wall. He slips his hand around your chest and hauls your body up against his, lavishing your throat with his hot mouth. “Joellllll,” you whine. 

“Feel good, baby?” he grunts, grinding his cock deep. You cry out, your hands blindly grasping behind you for a purchase on his hips. 

“So— fuck! —so good. You’re so big.” The breathless praise fills his head with air, ballooning his ego, making him pull you closer. 

“You can take it,” he says into your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts perfectly attuned to the response of your body. He's learned you, mapped you, and you're all for him. 

You gasp his name, your head turning to bite down on his bicep as he fucks you so thoroughly that your brain is liquifying to warm honey. Joel grits his teeth at the twinge of pain, his balls pulling up as his orgasm nears. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, letting your upper half bend back down onto the mattress so he can rub your clit. 

“Oh! Yes, yes, yes.” Your hands flex against the sheets, wrinkling them between your fingers as your cheek presses into the mattress. The rippling of your ass with every slap of his balls against your clit is a delicious sight, and the way your thighs tremble only makes his hips stutter. He’s going to come. He’s…

Your pussy clenches around him, your whole body seizing as you come on his cock, pushing out a weak cry. “Joel, I… oh, fuck.”

“I got you, baby. It’s okay. Let go; that's a good girl.” He removes his fingers from your clit when you begin to buck and cry from the overstimulation, his hand leaving the headboard to grab your hips. Now, he can fuck you hard and fast, your body limp and pliant underneath him. “Just let me… shit, let me… gotta—”

Your gasps are wet and your cheeks are drying from your tears. “Oh, my—” Your mouth drops open at his relentless pummeling. “Oh, shit!”

He feels the telltale splatter of wetness on his balls and his thighs before he registers that you're coming again. Your body shakes without abandon, your eyes squeezing shut and your pussy sucking him deeper, deeper still. It’s loud and smacking and slick in his ears, and he loses his goddamn mind. 

His orgasm pinches every nerve in his back without warning. He groans, fisting your hair, instinctively pushing his hips flush to your ass and drowning your cunt in his hot cum. 

“Goddamn… shit. Jesus.” He covers your body with his, his forehead pressed to the space between your sweat-slick shoulder blades. You can feel his breath puffing out against your skin. 

“Joel,” you moan weakly, your knees close to giving out, your hips aching. 

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He hauls himself upright and pulls out, his cock pulsing at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used hole. “I came inside you.”

“I can feel it,” comes your muffled giggle, wiggling your ass at him. “I’m on the pill.”

He collapses next to you, tucking you into his side, his nose nudging yours before he slots his mouth over yours. You kiss him happily, sleepily, draping your arm over his broad chest. “Gotta clean you up,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

You put your lips to the corner of his mouth, the patches in his beard, smiling against his cheek. “Shouldn't have manhandled me so good, then.”

Joel chuckles, smacking your ass. “Funny girl. C’mon, get up.”

You huff, taking his hand as he helps you off the bed, catching you around the waist when your knees give out. “Easy,” he laughs. 

“Your fault.” You steady yourself by holding onto his arm as he takes you into his bathroom. “You took me by surprise. Didn't think an old man could fuck like that.”

“Smartass.” Joel gives your ass another slap and closes you both inside. He wets a washcloth and wipes it between your thighs, enjoying the little whimper that leaves your mouth when it drags over your puffy clit. “Almost done, baby.”

He cleans up the cum that has dripped out of your hole and your own wetness, leaning in to kiss you softly when he's finished. You smooth his hair back, smiling fondly at his tousled appearance, the way he looks so relaxed, so calm. “I like you like this.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, observing the marks you've left on him through the mirror. “Scratched up like a goddamn cat post?”

“Couldn't help it.” You lean into him and press gentle little kisses to the crescents and red marks on his chest and shoulders. “Now those other ladies knocking down your door will know you're not up for grabs.”

“You tell me where those ladies are first, and I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind,” he chuckles, roaming his hands up and down your arms. “I’ve certainly never seen ‘em before.”

“Well, we women have a secret code,” you tell him. “A girl can tell. You're a hot commodity around here. Big, strong, tall, working man…”

His ego is getting a little overinflated at the ministrations of your sweet voice. He rubs his thumbs over your hip bones and shuts you up with a kiss. “Anyone ever tell you you're trouble?” he mumbles into your mouth. 

“Mmmhmm,” you reply. “But you can handle it.”

Goddamn right I can. 

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #whiskey sour #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo

[cyi-can-you-imagine]

Hey my friend, since you’re taking requests how about this?

When Sam and Dean get back to their hotel room after hitting the local bar to have a few drinks after a successful hunt, Sam is going to remind Dean who he belongs with and to. Marking him up for everyone to see.

Thanks!!

The Game

One shot. Because why not. Yes, it’s wincest.

Sam’s across the bar, leaning against a stool, drinking a beer. He’s watching some guys play pool. Dean’s just watching. Making sure Sam stays safe. Plays by the rules. But he’s also been watching this one particular guy - who hasn’t left Sam alone since he walked back there. But Dean’s not worried.

The guy puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder, and Dean’s cheeks burn.  He takes a shot of whiskey. He knows Sam’s his. He knows the rules of this game. He’s not worried.

Sam laughs and touches the guys knee and the guy suddenly leans closer to Sam and says something Dean can’t hear. He sees Sam look in his direction, just for a second and turn away. He shakes his head ‘no’ to the stranger. Dean feels a pull on his heart, but he’s not worried. He takes another shot of whiskey.

Sam knows better than to break the rules.

Sam takes a long, slow drink of beer, finishing the bottle. Dean watches intently as he sees the guy eyeing Sam’s neck. Sam doesn’t bring the bottle down soon enough. The man licks his lips and leans in - and kisses Sam unexpectedly on the neck. Sam doesn’t move and the man leans in again.

The music suddenly sounds way too loud. Dean stands up and clenches his fists. Sam should probably stop the guy there. Sam likes to play, but he never lets another guy touch him. 

Sam doesn’t pull away though. His body is relaxed and loose. 

Dean feels his stomach drop. The man pulls away and Sam smiles at him. He looks the guy in the eyes and nods. Dean can see what’s behind Sam’s eyes and his head starts to spin. Sam looks up at him and winks. Dean knows instantly what Sam’s done.

He hasn’t played this game in months.

The man steps away and touches Sam’s face as he excuses himself to the restroom. Sam’s eyes follow him, and the guy turns to look before heading inside. Sam waves at him. The guy winks back.

Dean’s walking up to Sam now, ready for a fight. But before he can open his mouth, Sam’s on top of him, pressing his lips hard onto his brother’s. He pulls away and laughs, dragging Dean outside with him. 

“That game doesn’t work anymore Sam, I’m not jealous. It just pisses me off. You’re only supposed to flirt. that’s why we -,” Dean pauses as they reach the car and slide inside, closing the doors quickly. “That’s not the game we were playing, why’d you change the rules on me, baby?” 

He doesn’t sound pissed off, thinks Sam.

“Why, are you jealous, big brother?” Sam teases, his lips right by Dean’s ear as he puts the keys in the ignition. The hot breath on his skin turns Dean on more than he wants to admit.

“I’m certainly not jealous!” Dean continues to argue even as he backs out of the space. He hasn’t looked over at Sam yet.

“Yes you are, you should have seen your face! and your body language? Admit it,” Sam laughs as they drive away - just as the man walks outside looking for a someone that would never be his.

“Am not!” Dean says through clenched teeth. His hands grip the wheel.

“Okay, De,” says Sam softly as he unzips Dean’s pants and slips his hand inside.

“Sam, don’t, I- oh…”

“I knew it,  Sam breaths hotly in Dean’s ear again, and he nearly swerves off the road. Sam laughs and backs off. 

“Shut up Sam,” moans Dean as he looks for the nearest motel.

#wincest #Dean's totally jealous #Sam plays a dangerous game

[safarigirlsp]

🌭🍔🥑 for the fic asks! Love ya!!

This was such a fun couple days thanks to you @babbushka ! We need to keep this up! It’s beyond wonderful to have you back! 💗💗💗

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

Ok this is the most fun question! We should just have a weird and random HC day lol!

Flip loves vintage advertising. Those old sporting calendars you used to see in hardware stores and sporting goods stores that have nostalgic paintings or action scenes from the old west with cowboys and gunfighters and hunters and mountain men. They're his primary decor in his cabin. Walking through that heavy wooden door, you could just as well be stepping back one hundred years, especially since it's far enough from town that no lights shine at night and there are no sounds other than those made by the forest and wildlife.

Flip loves dive bars. He can take you out dancing or wine and dine you somewhere swanky, and he does often. But there's something about the gritty familiarity of a dive bar - the neon lights, the bad taxidermy, the sticky floor, the smell of greasy food, whiskey, and smoke, Johnny Cash playing on the jukebox - that really gets him riled up and hot under the collar.

Friday nights after he gets off, he asks you to meet up with him and the guys for some greasy food and a beer. Work weighs heavily on his shoulders and he takes it seriously. His usual approach to stress is to sweat it out with a vigorous workout. Weights, running, or punching a heavy bag are best. A vigorous fuck works too. He tries to get his heart racing with one method in the morning and the other in the evening. But he takes Friday nights to unwind in more traditional ways, out someplace with friends and his girl. In a dive bar, he can be boisterous and crude, laugh loud and tell raunchy jokes with Ron, make you sit on his thigh and shamelessly grab your ass, kiss your neck and growl absolute filth in your ear. For his money, it beats the hell out of going someplace he actually has to behave and act civilized.

Challenging you to a game of pool is a favorite go-to. He usually throws the game just to watch you gloat. And more importantly, to watch you bend over the pool table and stretch out prettily to make a shot. It makes his blood run hot, makes him hard in his jeans, when he looks down your shirt or eyes your ass like a dirty old man. He loves that you're all his to eye all he wants. You know this, of course, and naturally play it up a little extra for his enjoyment. When you draw attention from other men in the bar, you know that too, but it's just so much fun to see Flip puff out his chest a little and glare at your fan club. Once or maybe twice according to Flip's count, this has culminated in a bar fight with you icing his bruised knuckles and kissing his bloody lip late into the night. But you should see the other guys. According to a more accurate and unbiased count - yours - this happens almost annually. It's a nice treat to look forward to once a year or so. And the fireworks he gives you afterwards are a helluva lot better than the Fourth of July.

🌭Do you have any writing rituals to help 'get in the zone'?

I really like watching movies with the vibes I’m going for while I’m writing or having them play in the background. I've currently exhausted my Victorian watchlist while I've been working on my current fic. I also like to read similar things too but that's obviously more time consuming. I recently discovered a fun series you might like with campy Victorian antics by Evie Dunmore.

When I'm a little stuck or need to picture something better, something physical helps my brain function a little. Lifting weights works for me and although I truly hate cardio, it helps to get my thoughts churning. Probably because I'm so bored and miserable, but I'll take what I can get xD.

Then there's always good ol' maladaptive daydreaming.

Omg all the edits that have been coming around the last couple years have really helped keep me rabid. Especially during these content dry spells when there's no new movies on the horizon to look forward to.

I love making aestheics/moodboards for myself and I have a ton that have never seen the light of day because they're just for me or to scratch an itch. It's extra fun because it satisfies both an artsy urge and helps stay in the zone for fics. But sometimes they also derail me with a new idea and I deviate to write a fic for the moodboard xD

These are some of my favorites that don't go with a posted fic. I may have a problem!

This is my recent desktop backgrounds:

🥑What are you currently working on?

I have one big fic that I'm currently focused on. Which is really the biggest challenge for me, just staying focused on any one thing OMG. But I'm right at the finish line for this one, then I have to chose which idea to focus primarily on next. I'm trying really hard to get some bigger projects done just because they have a chance of potentially being serious writing. And frankly because the engagement is down here, but if that changes, I'm more than happy to change with it and get rabid again. Even these HCs today are such a fun little burst of creativity!

Wargrave Hall

Victorian haunted house and occult story with romance of course. I have about 1/3 of this posted now publicly but its gotten too big to update my fic post now, which really pisses me off actually xD. I'm very near the end and it's just under 100k now, so it will probably finish somewhere around 110K and then I'll post it all. I'm having a lot of fun with it and it's much better than I thought it'd be when I started it. In my humble, biased opinion anyway.

Annees Folles

Roaring Twenties adventure story with a love triangle and plenty of romance and treasure hunting. This is hovering around 150k now and has never been published, although I've sent it to my friends here who have shown interest. I'd be happy to send it to anyone who's consistently supported my insanity. It's definitely my favorite thing I've written so far and has everything I love. After I finish the Victorian fic, my goal is to get this one finished too so I have two big quality fics in the bank, then start a new project. I'm probably 7/10 done with this one, so it will be a big one when completed.

I might be obsessed with the aesthetic...

#hearts #babbushka #my stuff! #my writing #flip #65 #jacques #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver

[holykillercake]

PUPPY EYES AND FUN RIDES

Kid x Reader! AU

word count: 3.3k

summary: Eustass Kid was an extravagant man, taking everything he wanted without asking for permission. He was denied so much in his life that he did not say no to himself. If he could take it, he would. Or, maybe, most of it.

highlight: ¨Here´s your tip. Buy yourself something pretty.¨

warning: gun injuries with a side of SASS *sparkles*

notes: I´m back with another one-shot, guys! It has been so long since I wanted to write for Kid, and I really liked the result. I hope you guys enjoy it as well! <3

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!

¨Hey, Pups! Bring in another round!¨ Kid shouted from the table where he and the guys sat with potential future business partners. 

You lifted a bottle of whiskey to let him know you got the message. All of the other orders entered the waiting list while you placed the drinks on the tray, taking an extra for the boss, personally. 

¨Here´s the savior, guys!¨ the redhead said as you approached the table. ¨This is my Puppy, but you call her Y/N. She runs the house.¨ 

¨Puppy, huh? Interesting nickname.¨ one of the men spoke, calling you by the name Kid made clear was only his. 

There was a second of silence. The top ranks looked at each other with a smirk, while the other men seemed confused. 

¨Man...¨ Wire spoke, leaning back on the chair, trying to cover his smile with his hand, ruffling his eyebrows. 

¨Here.¨ you called the man who commented about your nickname, holding his shot glass in front of him ¨Only the boss calls me Puppy.¨ and with that, you drank in one go all the liquid you had poured him, turning and smacking the small glass on the table, hard enough for it to crack. 

¨That´s my girl. What´s the good news?¨ Kid asked, putting his hand on your back, pulling you closer. 

¨Four tables from here, at eight o´clock.¨ you said, leaning in. ¨They got here in a black sports vehicle with tinted windows about forty minutes ago, had a beer each, and don´t stop staring. None of them hopped off from the driver´s seat. I already sent the boys out there to close the streets. They´re waiting for your sign, Captain.¨

¨My night always gets better when you call me Captain.¨ he gave you a grin before turning to the blonde beside you. ¨Killer.¨

As soon as the second in command got up and turned his gaze towards the table, the men put themselves on their feet on alert. Without so much trying to hide their intentions, they mixed in with the crowd to get to the door. 

¨Why am I shooting them?¨ Kid asked, playing silly with you.

¨They left without paying the tab.¨

¨How about your tip?¨

¨Not a single cent.¨ you shrugged, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

¨Oooh,¨ he purposefully overreacted with a frown. ¨I can´t let that happen. Come on, guys. It´s show time.¨

As soon as you turned your back, sounds of chairs dragging on the wooden floor like nails on a chalkboard echoed all over the bar, followed by tires rolling on the pebbles from the parking lot. 

¨These rookies never learn.¨ you mumbled to yourself, laughing. 

It wasn´t long until they returned, clearing space only for the top ranks to pass. Wire dragged the two men from the bar by their collars, and Heat carried another one, probably the driver, on his shoulders. 

Killer walked some steps behind, looking calm and neutral as usual, and Kid took a detour towards you, holding a credit card between his fingers like magicians do with their cards. 

¨Here´s your tip. Buy yourself something pretty.¨

¨Will do.¨ you took the piece of plastic and put it in your back pocket, smiling and blushing at him. ¨Have fun, boss.¨

¨Will do, Pups.¨ 

Kid lingered there for a few more seconds, eyes alternating between your eyes and your lips. 

It wasn't always like this. As kids, you would be on each other´s throats all the time. But when you passed the age of bratty kids and realized that you would stick together for the long run, your relationship started to evolve. Slowly, you started to build this chemistry, but for some reason, nothing ever happened. You would just flirt carelessly every time you met, which would be on a daily basis, but without ever making a move. 

You tried to never take it too far because you know they say, right? It´s fun and all until someone catches feelings. 

So you poured him another shot, and he gladly took it, turning around and mixing in the crowd, passing through an iron door that led to the underground level, where those who didn´t their place were sent. 

The rest of the night went on smoothly, except for the free round of drinks that Kid so kindly offered at the expense of your hard work. Some men started a pool to guess what end the newbies would have. In the end, they all took their cash back since no one thought they would live until the morrow. 

While you cleaned your station, preparing to close the bar, you could not help but reminisce about your rookie days. And how, one day, the three of you were the reckless kids. During that time, you had no idea you would spend the rest of your life around those skinny and sassy boys. 

Oh, life, what a fun ride. 

---

¨Your legs are too short, that´s why you´re slow! Slowpoke!¨ you yelled at the ginger head kid, wincing at the bruise on your knees as Killer tried to attend to them. 

¨My legs are not short, and I´m not slow!¨ Eustass yelled back, forgetting about the tissue he was supposed to hold on his nose. 

¨Y/N, stop moving. And Kid, you´re dripping blood on your shirt. Chin up.¨ Killer said, visibly tired of both of your tantrums. 

¨I told you, Killer. We shouldn´t have taken him with us. Ouch!¨ 

¨We should have, Y/N. It was just a bad day. Now stop moving.¨ 

¨It was that bright red head of his. He looks like a folklore creature from the South Blue.¨ 

¨You look like a clumsy giraffe!¨ Kid´s voice came all nasalized as he stuffed his nostrils with tissue. 

You have met the boys while still living at the district´s orphanage. At first, you weren´t close. You spent the day playing with your friends, crossing paths with them every once in a blue moon without paying them no mind. 

But as the number of orphans and crime in the district grew, the government, the main supporter, ended up abandoning the place, and the staff left with it. Not that anyone would care or notice. At least, no one besides the children living there. 

During the first weeks, you could survive with the provisions you had left. But feeding so many kids required a lot of food, and soon, you were out of it. So the oldest ones, such as Killer, joined to steal around town. 

You tagged along with them since your age was an incognito. You had lost your parents when you were old enough to walk and talk but young enough to remember those types of details. You were taller and stronger than most kids, but your actions seemed of someone Eustass´age. 

No one complained, though. They were short on young burglars anyway. 

Local stores run by old people were the easiest target. If you were sly enough, they wouldn´t even notice you. In the worst-case scenario, you would put your legs to work and disappear into the narrow alleys. 

The gangs in the area soon started to take advantage of that situation, recruiting some kids to do the small dirty work and eventually the three of you. They offered food for your growling stomachs, a roof above your heads, and warm beds to sleep at night. 

As a work of destiny, perhaps, the three of you stuck together, hoping from gang to gang, until you decided to start one of your own. And though you pulled Kid´s leg for wanting to be the leader, you agreed that there was no one better for the job. 

Your relationship developed altogether with your skills, and you went from young brats throwing sharp knives at each other to partners, blindly loyal to one another. 

Many years and many ball drops later, when Kid established his shop and decided it was time to expand his businesses, he put you in charge of the bar. Behind the salon, the iron doors guarded Kid´s office, his ¨playroom¨, and your house. 

You´d sleep there, making sure no one tried to get into your fortress. And when the bar was open, you would be Kid´s eyes and ears, observing every person stepping in and out, reporting in case someone acted suspiciously. 

During the night, when the bar was open, trouble would often arise. It could be drunk men causing havoc or unprepared spies trying to catch a glimpse of Kid´s activities. However, when the doors closed and the lights went off, people would rarely try to break in. You could count on your fingers the number of times such a thing happened. 

This night, however, someone must have had an extra bit of liquid courage. 

You were preparing to hop into bed, applying a nice moisturizer on your body, when you heard the front door being forced open. It was a matter of seconds until you had thrown a rob on and ran towards the bar, with a Glock nineteen in hands, safety pin deactivated, ready to blow some brains.  

Your feet slid on the floor as you moved across the dark hallways, silent and fast. You hid behind the door, leaned in to hear any movements on the other side, and figure out how many were there. However, it was with a deep silence that you were met. 

There wasn´t any sound of usual breaking and entering. No tables dragged or thrown, draws turned upside down, and bottles getting chugged on. You peeked through the peephole that gave you a wide sight of the salon, but other than the breach left open by the intruder and the moonlight coming in, there wasn´t much to look at. 

¨What the fuck?¨ you whispered.

You lowered the gun for a few seconds before a groan caught your attention. With one hand on the doorknob, you let out a deep breath preparing to open it, when at the opposite wall, close to the door, you saw someone move and shot right next to the shadow´s head. 

¨Damn, Pups!¨ 

Instantly, you recognized the voice, activating the safety pin and shoving the gun in the elastic of your underwear. You opened the door and turned the counter lights on, revealing Kid leaning against the wall. 

¨Damn, you, Kid. You´ve got the keys, you know?¨

He cursed something back at you, standing up straight and closing the entrance door. You immediately took notice of his roughed-up state, as if he had returned from a fight or something. His hair was slicked back, and the goggles were down on his neck. His face had dirty spots all over and sweat dripped from his temples. Even his lipstick seemed smudged, probably for cleaning the blood on the corner of his lips. 

¨Tough night?¨ you asked, approaching the drawers under the bar counter to get a first aid kit. 

¨We were caught off guard. But we dealt with it already.¨

¨I don´t doubt that. C´mere.¨ you cleaned a table, putting the chairs down so he could sit. ¨Let me take a look at you.¨

The redhead grunted, taking his coat off and throwing it wherever ¨I don´t need fucking babysitting, Puppy.¨ 

¨Then why are you here?¨ you put one hand on your waist, giving him attitude served cold with a smirk ¨That´s what I thought. Now, did the bullet come out?¨

¨How do you know it´s not a slash of something?¨

¨You said you were caught off guard. There´s no way someone would pass through all of you with a knife or whatever and not be noticed.¨ you flicked his forehead, and he pretended to go for a bite of your fingers. ¨I know my boys well.¨

Besides, you knew Kid would never look for anyone´s help due to a slash. 

¨Don´t go getting cocky, you little shit.¨

¨Too bad, too late.¨ 

Kid opened his signature grin and pointed to the side of his abdomen, where a piece of rag covered beveled skin and more blood. The bullet followed a straight path, three fingers on the left from his belly button to the side of his waist. 

¨Wanna make this more interesting?¨ he suggested.

¨Well, this is not interesting at all, but sure.¨ 

¨Geez, Pups. Who pissed in your fucking cornbread?¨ 

¨Oh, you really don´t know?¨ you stared at him with wide eyes and a fake grin. 

¨Fuck off.¨

¨Genius.¨ 

¨You want it or not?!¨ 

¨I just said ¨sure¨. You should get your ears checked as well. What do you have in mind?¨ you skipped to the question before you two spent all night on a snarky comments contest.  

¨Guess range, contact, and the gun correctly, and you can ask me anything you want.¨ he smiled.

¨Anything?¨ 

¨Anything in the world. I´ll give it to you.¨ 

¨And if I don´t guess those correctly...?¨

¨Then I ask anything I want.¨

¨I don´t see how that´s fair to me.¨

¨Are you chickening out?¨ he provoked you, knowing how much it annoyed being said things like that. 

¨I´m gonna rip your other arm off and eat it like a chicken wing. How does that sound?¨

¨C´mon, Pups.¨ 

¨Alright. But you better prepare your pockets, though, cause we´re going shopping and you´re holding my bags.¨ you laughed, helping ease the tension before you started poking him where it hurt. 

Kid smirked, keeping his gaze locked to the bar behind you. When you began to clean the wound, you felt his breath hitch for a brief second. Maybe he wanted to distract from the pain, too. After all, no matter how strong he is, he is a human being. You couldn´t help but feel a twist in your stomach. 

¨Well,¨ you spoke after seconds ¨as I said, it´s a gunshot. The path was clear and uninterrupted, causing minimal damage, mostly skin and fat tissues. Did it come out entire?¨ you referred to the bullet.

He hummed in agreement. 

¨Good. I see some minor burning and singeing of hair, so I´ll say mid to close range. And there are what I assume to be burnt metal scraps, plus the skin and hair appearance... I´m gonna go with a loose contact wound caused by a rifled arm.¨

¨You assume they are metal scraps?¨ he said, pulling your legs.

¨Yeah, but it could be just dirt since you are proving to be insanely reckless and desperate for an infection.¨ you smiled condescendingly. ¨I would have to send it to a lab.¨ 

¨No need, punk. Final considerations?¨

¨Let me see.¨ you pretended to examine a little more ¨You are extremely lucky for a man wearing barely any clothes in the middle of an open fire or extremely skilled for dodging a bullet, preventing it from causing more damage.¨ you both laughed ¨So, which one are you?¨ 

¨Are you asking if I am a dumb manwhore or a stuck-up asshole?¨

¨Your words, not mine.¨ you put both hands in the air, laughing through your nose. 

The two of you kept throwing small talk and snarky remarks while you finished patching him up. The redhead told you what had happened and that everyone got out pretty much unscathed. Apparently, it was revenge for the guys that went to the bar and never returned. Who would know for sure? They got beat up so hard all they could do was moan and cry. 

¨Done. You´re as good as new, Cap.¨ you said, cutting the last suture line. 

¨Yeah...¨ Kid replied, letting out a short yawn and cracking his neck bones. 

¨You... wanna stay for the night? You look tired. I don´t think driving is a good idea right now.¨ 

You gently scrubbed the cloth on a dirty spot you overlooked, not missing the slight sway of him leaning in your touch. You kept looking at him, from his pearl-white skin marked with pink scars, his ferocious red locks falling on his face to his torso. The muscles, the new and old scars, and the part when skin turned to metal. Eustass Kid had become a remarkable man. 

Meanwhile, Kid himself thought the same things of you. As he tried to internalize your touch in his soul, he wanted to memorize every little detail of your face. From the way you parted your hair, how your brows furrowed, and your lips twitched when you focused on something to the warmth of your skin. 

Eustass Kid was an extravagant man, taking everything he wanted without asking for permission. He was denied so much in his life that he did not say no to himself. If he could take it, he would. Or, maybe, most of it. Ever since he established his throne in the District, there has been only one thing he did not allow himself to do. 

Kid knew how cathartic, chaotic and catastrophic he could be. And how he could win the jackpot at times and lead to calamity at others. He has won much and lost the equivalent. He has made the right decisions and fucked up to the same extent. 

And he could not bear fucking up and risk losing you. 

The boiling feelings in his chest and butterflies in his stomach were shut down. He would deprive himself of his biggest desire so he could have you by his side forever. 

He swore that many times. 

But seeing you there, like that, looking at him with the care no one has ever before. It made him wonder what kind of place you had for him in your heart. He didn´t miss your breathing turning heavier and your fingers trembling against his cheek. And though he was brute and tough on the outside, the inside wasn´t so dense. You wanted it as much as he did. He knew, and so did you. 

¨C´mere.¨ he whispered, tapping his fingers on his leg. 

Without thinking twice, you got up from your seat, making your way to his lap, careful not to touch the injured spot. Your whole body caught on fire, and your chest moved up and down with every breath. It felt like your place, like his body was made for yours.

Kid placed his right hand on your waist, massaging the soft fabric of your pajama. Moving on to your face, he caressed your cheek before pulling you closer to him. He was gentle. For the first time, he was gentle. 

¨I don´t wanna fuck this up, Pups.¨ he said, gluing his forehead to yours and fighting to hold back.

¨I´m not gonna let that happen.¨ 

¨I´m not letting you go.¨

¨I wouldn´t go even if you made me.¨

Kid smirked and finished closing the distance between you, kissing you with impatience and despair. You held each other until you ran out of breath, hurting for having to part the kiss. You loved the way you felt in each other´s arms and tasted on each other´s lips. It was addicting. Alluring. Appetizing. 

¨Fuck.¨ Kid cursed, out of breath. 

¨Yeah, fuck.¨ you laughed. 

The two of you kept making out for a long while, talking and cursing as usual, laughing, and even drinking some beers. You kept sat on his lap, using him as a comfortable talking couch.

¨Hm,¨ Kid started, taking another sip ¨so?¨

¨So what?¨ 

¨You won. Mid-range, loose contact, lightweight, semi-automatic, modern sporting rifle.¨

¨Nice tongue twister. Cartridge size?¨

¨Hmm... 5.5 per 45 millimeters.¨

¨Lucky manwhore.¨ you scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

¨I´mma shut this pretty mouth of yours.¨ Kid held your jaw, squeezing your cheeks and smiling at you ¨A deal is a deal. What d´you want, Pups?¨

You repositioned yourself on his lap to face him, embracing his neck and letting the bottle touch his back. A grin formed on your lips when his body jerked up at the cold object against his warm skin. He muttered some obscenities at you, only to watch your smile grow as you came closer to his face.

¨I already got what I wanted. Are you offering to give me more?¨

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!

#eustass kid x reader #kid x y/n #one piece x reader #kid x reader

[graftisms]

CALLIE & ANGEL — DAY TWENTY-NINE

location :   night / post-game / swing

featuring :    @dobits

ANGEL

"how's romi?" he asks, setting himself down in the swing. he passes her over the whiskey sour he'd been drinking, decides to keep jude's pint of beer for himself.

CALLIE

"thanks." she has no idea what it is, but takes a sip anyway. whiskey sour, nice. "uh, she's alright." callie hesitates a little, knowing he's friends with jude. "apparently she's done with jude's shit, so she's going to open herself up a bit more. unless he weasels his way out of it right now." eyes flicker to the firepit for a moment, hoping that's not the case. "i know it's just a game, but jude knew what he was doing."

ANGEL

his eyes follow her's, also interested in getting a little peek at what might be happening over there. "i wish i knew what he was doing. that was, like... insanely dumb of him." as much as he loves the guy, he chose to kiss the only girl in here that would for sure mug romi off. "i dunno, i feel like he'll be able to redeem himself though. he really does care about them."

CALLIE

shaking her head, she looks back at angel. "i hope he doesn't," she tells him, smile bittersweet. "it's been a day, how much can he really care about her if he was so quick to kiss jenny? romi's whole experience here has been with guys who either treat her like crap or don't put her first. it'd be nice to see her break the cycle for once."

ANGEL

long groaned sigh. "yeaaah, fuck. it's hard 'cause they do deserve better than that shit, but i think jude's capable of it. like, he just needs to be smarter. i know he can do it." hard fix. "who else is romi even thinking of? marcus? c'mon."

CALLIE

the fact that he genuinely believes that makes her smile. "yeah, you would think that," she snorts, taking a sip of her drink.  "don't tell anyone," callie warns him, not wanting her words to go straight to jude, "but she mentioned zeke, stella, and dante. i think she's most interested in dante, although jenny being involved puts her a little off."

ANGEL

it's clear that anyone means most especially jude, so he nods his head in promise. "dante." that makes sense. he leans in, conspiratorial. "between you and me, jenny basically told me she was, like, settling for him which, y'know, not super shocking." not after that kiss between her and jude. "but," he tacks on, tone lowered more now, "dante, jenny, and char all hooked up in the dressing room last night. so, i dunno, i think dante's head is still all over the place."

CALLIE

his news about jenny settling for dante doesn't surprise her very much, unfortunately. the blonde dating a seemingly nice guy seemed a little too good to be true, especially considering her taste. "wait, what?" he says it so casually, callie almost misses the bomb he drops on her, eyes widening. "in the dressing room? all of them? charlene?" it entirely doesn't surprise her that jenny's name is thrown in there, and she doesn't know enough about dante to think otherwise, but she hadn't expected charlene to get thrown into the mix. "is she into jenny?" her face is the math meme, trying to make sense of everything. "they did kiss yesterday in the dressing room, but i didn't even think jenny liked women."

ANGEL

fingers drum against the pint glass, wonders if there was any other kinda way he could've worded that. eyes flit briefly toward the kitchen, then magnetize back to callie. "i -- well, i think she did come in trying to graft jenny. but she's been vibing off dante and..." head shrugs, infers charlene could probably tell a lost cause when she sees one. "it sounds like it was an in the moment thing for her... char likes you." he's not particularly happy to have to say it out loud, doesn't come packaged in the usual smile, but he's not gonna mince words. his laugh is dry. "they all do. you know that."

CALLIE

she does know that, at least somewhat, but it doesn't make it any easier when he's pointing it out, especially after the game. grimacing a little, callie runs her fingers through her hair.  "i'm starting to pick up on that," she says wryly, though it's true all the same.  "i feel like i've been three steps behind this entire time. i mean, i thought i gave a pretty shitty impression yesterday, and i'm not used to, like... having people interested. and i don't mean that in a self-deprecating way, but so far being here has been pretty straight-forward." she's not used to having options, she wants to say, but it sounds braggy when she says it like that. she doesn't particularly like it, because it means she'll have to be the bad guy eventually. "are you included in that they?" she thinks she knows that too, but she needs it to be spelled out for her.

ANGEL

now his chuckle is a little more genuine, definitely more filled with wonder. there’s a surprised wrinkle in between his brows. “seriously?” he refuses to believe she’s not used to having people interested in her. “there’s no way. maybe you stay three steps behind,” he teases, knee gently knocking against her’s. “it’s like i said, even when you’re in a little mood, you’re still adorable. of course they’re into you.” as for him, well, it feels like the most obvious answer of them all. had all but smuggled her away from her adoring fans. lower lip rolls inward and he bites down, nodding. “you know i am.”

CALLIE

"i mean, it's not like i've been in friendship couples this whole time," she snorts. some would argue liam was one, but she did genuinely like him. he was fun to kiss. "i just didn't expect it here, i guess. i was planning on being more closed off coming here, which probably didn't help. it's all a bit overwhelming," she admits, knowing it's probably not a turn-on or whatever to admit, but she's grown comfortable enough with angel to at least be honest about everything. callie offers him a small smile at his words, probably lackluster compared to the warmth that's spreading in her chest, freckled on her cheeks. "good." she doesn't even know what else to say at that, laughing despite herself. "i do really like charlene, but... right now i think it's just a friendship thing. stella, too."

ANGEL

“yeaah.” the history of callie’s couplings is a topic he’ll happily sidestep for awhile longer, but it’s hard to avoid when her sentiment provokes so many questions, so much curiosity about her. “right, the filter. but you feel like you’ve been pretty open with everybody, right? like, people you wanna partner with.” to him, it’s the more interesting thing than just being a hot commodity for the length of the show. it’s more valuable. he wishes he could be as cavalier as callie, who looks pleased but altogether cool. he’s fighting off a big grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. “good?” just wants to hear more of that. all excited nervousness aside, he feels increasingly at ease next to her. “how’d the kiss feel?”

CALLIE

"i've been trying." whether the bombshells think that's true or not remains to be seen, but she'd like to think she's been doing something right, if a few of them are interested in her. but it's a lot easier dealing with everyone here, considering the ghost of frankie still looms over her. she hadn't popped up on callie's head once during the game, which is refreshing, and she does her best to push her away now. it's a lot easier to do so when he's grinning like that, making her laugh. "which one?" her smile is coy, before shaking her head. "it was good, i won't lie. i was a little impressed. i don't love challenges like that when everyone's watching, but... it was good." she's grinning now too, she can't help herself. "any complaints?"

ANGEL

“stella’s,” he rolls his eyes with amiable sarcasm, shoulder leaning heavy into her’s. “impressed?” that makes him laugh, head tilted back. “you expected me to be shit?” nodding, her sentiment definitely resonates. “yeah, it’d be sick to kiss you without jude screaming shit in my ear.” a thumb sweeps the apple of her cheek, tucking baby hairs behind her ear before dropping away. “no complaints. it was good... well, maybe one small complaint.”

CALLIE

"i didn't know what to expect," she admits, laughing. "nobody here half-asses challenges, that's for sure." all of her kisses were good, she really can't complain. the mention of jude makes her eyes roll, a knee-jerk reaction at this point, even if he is touching her face. "what, could you taste stella's lip gloss?" callie asks dryly, meeting his eye curiously.

ANGEL

"yeah, no lie," he agrees, can't help but let his attention fade briefly to the firepit, mostly because he can see romi standing up now. her guess grabs him again, scoffs a wry laugh. "god. no. just felt short." shrugs, angel takes a long pull from the pint. "so i take it you're sleeping outside with romi tonight?"

CALLIE

"you think?" it didn't feel short to her, at least compared to the ones that came before, but her gaze flickers to his lips briefly and she can understand what he's getting at. talk about sleeping arrangements makes her grimace. "i did offer," she tells him, "but jude cut in before she could really say anything. so i don't know, i don't want to leave her alone outside." there's a bit of an apology in her tone, because it's not hard to get where he's going with this.

ANGEL

“no, yeah, i get that.” he’d do the same thing. frankly he doesn’t imagine jude staying inside if romi’s outside, but who knows what the hell those crazy kids are gonna do. “if you guys do stay out here, maybe i could crash on the other day bed or something.” he’s not sure if that’s against the rules, willing to challenge them either way. “we could talk across the way.”

CALLIE

she doesn't expect such a sincere offer, chest swelling when he mentions the other day bed. shaking her head, she opens her mouth to say something—but callie doesn't really know what to say, either. it's been a minute since she's been at a loss for words. so instead she grabs both their drinks and puts them down, so there's nothing between them when she takes his face in her hands and pulls him in for a slow kiss, crawling a little closer on her knees.

ANGEL

he's laughing a little at first, decidedly confused when she takes their drinks. is just about to ask when she turns back and tugs him into a kiss, a real kiss now, doesn't feel like anybody's watching or even really exists, the whole villa falling away 'til all that's left is his hammering heart. he hums into her mouth with some surprise before he meets her rhythm, slow and increasingly deep. both sets of fingers encircle her wrists at his jawline, slide down her forearms. their kiss stays steady, searching, as he pulls her into his lap.

CALLIE

kissing angel comes with a rush of adrenaline that she hadn't expected to feel, in this moment and during her time in casa. it should stress her out, honestly, and maybe it will later. but right now all she can do is sink into the kiss, hands lightly trailing down his neck to wrap around it, drawing him closer as she feels him pulling her onto his lap. without an audience this time around, they can take their time, fingers light in his hair as she gets used to being in his warmth, the softness of his lips. this time, she's not going to be the one to pull away first.

ANGEL

everything feels a lot more solid now, more tangible. his arms slung low around her hips keep her flush to him, for the first time feels like there's some entitlement to a moment between them, like they aren't just ships passing in the night. feels safe enough to press his forehead against her's to break the kiss, although his eyes are still hooded, their lips an inch apart. "yeah, that's how it shoulda been," he throws it back to his 'complaint', to the lack of eyes and public commentary. "nah, you gotta be with me tonight." a breathless chuckle, he slides his nose against her's.

CALLIE

she hums lightly when they eventually pull away, hands falling to his shoulders, feeling a little like she needs something to hold onto. it had been so easy to get lost in the kiss, no thoughts at all, but his voice brings her back to reality, a twisting in her stomach that feels more like anticipation than anxiety. callie can't help but laugh once, eyes fluttering shut as she revels in the closeness, before she pulls back enough to get a good look at his face, meeting his eye with a wry smile. "you're not sleeping outside," she shakes her head at him. not only is that crazy, but romi would definitely not appreciate it. "let me talk to her. for all i know, her and jude could be fine." she forces herself to look away to find romi, spying her over in the smoking area with seb. who knows what that could mean.

ANGEL

"i am if you are," he argues, shoulders shifting in a shrug under her touch. "romi can use all the support, right? and i don't even gotta talk." now he's just mostly being funny, bites into his grin. he follows her gaze, notices romi's change of scenery. "doesn't look good," angel notes, imagines they would probably be having makeup sex somewhere if they had managed to reach some kinda 'good'. "you should go touch base with them anyway." and he should probably track down jude, wherever he went. fingers reach up to brush through her hair, beckoning her attention again. "hey."

CALLIE

her eyes roll at him, lips pinching together to hold back a laugh. "i doubt she'd appreciate the support from you." she doesn't even know if they've even talked, but it's starting to seem like angel is jude's closest friend here—a fact in itself that should give her the ick, but somehow doesn't. "yeah," she sighs, not really in the mood to move from this spot right now. angel's lap, but also the little bubble they've found themselves in, away from drama and other people's opinions. once they leave it, the reality of what she's doing will probably start to set in, when she has to explain it to everyone who asks. his voice pulls her out of her own head, dark eyes glancing back to meet his.

ANGEL

he sucks his teeth regretfully, wanting to argue that, too. him and romi are socal people, they can always find common ground, right? callie's probably right though, imagines romi wouldn't want him there on principle. if not for the fact that he's jude's bestie, then for the fact that he's grafting callie. whatever, it's a problem for later. callie's eyes on him produces an automatic smile, pulls gentle at the corners of his mouth. he presses it to her's, a chaste, but lingering kiss. "what you thinkin' about?"

CALLIE

there's something so tender about the way he's looking at her that callie doesn't know what to do with it. she can't remember the last time she's felt so seen, and his question doesn't help, reminding her of what he had said this morning about the way she tends to look like she's holding something back. and what had she said back to that? no bullshit. "how i don't want to get up," she admits with a laugh, eyes bright. it feels sort of impossible to look at him and not smile. "are you used to all the drama yet?"

ANGEL

"i wasn't actually gonna let you anyway. was just being nice," he grins sardonically. more than anything, he just wants to extend this as much as possible, but not for any wariness about the future. if anything, he feels increasingly optimistic, can't imagine there would be any possible bad consequences to what they're doing right now. "no," he admits, chuckling dryly. "i don't think i ever will be. it kinda sucks, huh? like, it'd just be cool if everybody could be happy all at the same time."

CALLIE

his comment makes her laugh, hands sliding to rest on his shoulder blades, casually exploring the muscles she's admired during their time in the pool. "yeah, it does," she nods, thumbs drawing light circles on his back. "i wish i could say it gets easier, but..." it doesn't. she admires the optimism though, even if it feels more idealistic than anything. "it's like you've never even seen the show," she drawls. though it does make her realize she doesn't even know how much of the season he's seen; callie has to assume he's seen it all.

ANGEL

chin is tipped up a bit as his eyes flicker over her features, the little button of her nose, the way her smile curves all girlish. between that and her sentiment, angel has to chuckle in wonder. “— i haven’t. have i not told you?” one hand comes off her waist to shrug, then sweeps the curtain of her hair over her shoulder. “juno would send me, like, youtube clips and shit and i watched a couple episodes from the beginning. i know stuff, but…” he shakes his head. “it’s not the same as being here anyway. but i also feel like… i dunno, how much drama could we be in?” optimistic to the point of ignorant. his arms drop around her waist again, squeezes her in. “the bombshells are chill, they’re the homies. they’re not gonna be, like, pissed at me or anything. they get it.”

CALLIE

eyebrows raise thoughtfully, before it really sinks in. "wait, seriously?" she had just assumed that all the bombshells here would already know the intricacy of the main relationships and friendships here, or whatever the edit deemed worthy. having been a bombshell herself, she can't imagine going into the show without as much information as possible, head shaking in wonder. "how much have you seen about me?" she has to ask, unable to hold back a laugh. she hadn't even been in the first couple episodes. "does your sister watch, then? is that how you ended up on the show?" she hadn't even been thinking about drama for them, her mind still on romi, but he says that and her mind immediately goes to frankie, who she's realizing he must not know much about. it makes it a little more nerve-wrecking, like he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, but she's not ruining this moment with reality. "oh, i'm sure they'll be fine," she snorts, doubtful that anyone will care that much. seb might give her some shit, but let him. "i'm just thinking about romi. tomorrow watch it be about seb and rhys. it's always something."

ANGEL

“umm,” he lets his gaze lift up, searching his mind. when he was binging bits of content, callie had just been a hot surfing australian, hadn’t been able to get a real sense of who she was aside from just a face on a screen, same as everyone else. “not a lot, just little moments. your entrance, kenny kissing you and then dylan, or something. then you and frankie, like, in the shower, sleeping on the terrace.” he tries to recount the blips, finds the details have definitely gone fuzzy. “you can fill in the gaps,” angel suggests earnestly with a curious tilt of his head. “i wanna know the details, y’know. like, with context.” fair to presume the edits probably butcher the reality of all she’s experienced in here. head nods in confirmation. “yeah, she’s into it. definitely a seed she planted in my head.” mouth stretches into a smile when she agrees, glad that they can place themselves firmly out of the drama. only have to deal with it in the periphery, on their friends’ behalf. “but romi’s shit really sucks. i know they probably think jude’s just gonna ricochet into jenny or whatever, but i’m telling you, this is really gonna mess him up, if they really do call it quits. i think he assumed they were, like, stronger than that.” it’s a difficult line to toe, wanting to defend his bestie, but staying sympathetic to romi. “i mean, seb and rhys are… i don’t even know what the hell they’re thinking.” his gaze pulls away from her to find either of the guys faces. “i can’t tell if they’re playing a game with each other or what.”

CALLIE

a grin breaks out on her features at the mention of kenny, a moment from being on the show that she had conveniently forgotten about for a minute there. between that and hearing about her and frankie in the shower she groans, moving a hand to rest on her cheek in slight embarrassment, nose wrinkling. "oh, good," she laughs, tone dry, "so the important stuff." god only knows how she's seen on the show, the surfer who immediately jumped in frankie's pants as soon as she arrived. "god, i wouldn't even know where to start, but sure. do you think your whole family's watching?" it's hard not to think about whether they'd approve of them in this situation right now, considering how much they had talked about family earlier today. leaning down, callie grabs their previously discarded drinks and offers angel his, needing a sip of her own if he's going to continue to talk about jude. "well, who knows. but if he wants to get back in romi's good graces, he could start with cutting jenny off entirely." which makes her feel a little bad to say for jenny's sake, but it's a hard truth. her eyes roll lightly, glad they're on the same page about seb and rhys. "yeah, i don't know. i don't think they know what they're doing, either." she'd say more, but her eyes flit over him for a moment, studying him. "is something going on with you and seb?" mostly because she doesn't want to complain about him if there is, but also considering she's still in his lap, it might be nice to know.

ANGEL

“you seemed like you were having fun,” he laughs with her, shoulder rolling in a shrug. the clips of callie getting cozy with her partners wouldn’t prove as interesting of an edit as dejan antagonizing romi or the jenny/josh/naomi fiasco, details he could remember more easily. “don’t trip on it,” he insists, doesn’t want to confirm that, yeah, his family is almost definitely watching. if they start becoming too conscious of that, they’re gonna get all fucked up on it. the drink is happily accepted, could use a hit of whiskey to cool out after the whirlwind of the last hour. “man, i know,” angel agrees solemnly, was thinking the same thing. knows it’s probably the part jude’s gonna have trouble with. “we’ll see. if he’s not all in on romi, i’m not sticking my nose in it.” it’s only gonna work if jude decides to cut jenny off on his own, angel’s been in enough relationships to know that when you start making rules for your significant other, you’re already doomed. he blinks in mild surprise at the question, though decidedly amused by how upfront she’s being. he takes a moment to consider. “there was vibes, for sure,” he admits. after a beat, a shake of his head. “the him and rhys thing kinda put me off from the jump. i didn’t really get the vibe he was looking for a relationship. or, like… not my kinda relationship anyway.”

CALLIE

she can't stop thinking about how the shower scene must've looked on the cameras, something she very much had not been thinking about in the moment. "oh, yeah. i'm sure," she snorts, sure she's turning a little red. her hand presses on her cheek as if to stop it. "don't trip on it? so that's a yes," callie smirks, but she's not surprised. "don't worry, it's easy to ignore after a while." clearly, after making out with frankie in the shower, knowing good and well her grandparents are watching at home.  "are you and jude close, then?" it seems obvious, but she doesn't know much about the dynamics between the bombshells, not really bothering to pay much attention to it so far. if she tried to keep up with all the new and broken friendships in the villa, callie would probably go mad. she can understand why seb's relationship with rhys would've put him off, choosing to hear the past tense of it all as reason to believe it's no longer a thing. "yeah, that's fair," she nods. "i was talking to stella about that, too, because i know she was interested in him. i think their mindset is that both of them want to bring someone back for the game of it all, and then probably get together afterwards? but i don't know," she shrugs. "i just don't want to see anyone get hurt." and that includes rhys and sometimes seb.

ANGEL

thumb and forefinger gently pinch the apple of her cheek, admiring of the blush that thankfully he's not mirroring for once. "-- your grandparents don't watch, right?" there's a please say they don't watch look in his eyes, suddenly acutely aware of her proximity in his lap. instead of dwelling on the panic of that, he takes a centering gulp of his drink, lets his other hand trail absently down her spine. "closer than you and jude," angel quips with a cheeky smirk, finds it funny to point out the distaste she has for him. "yeah, he's my boy for sure. we've just always been able to talk, y'know? gotta have somebody to vent it all out to. i guess romi's that for you, huh?" a pause, there's a knowingness in his tone when he tacks on, "not naomi anymore." information he'd been given by the brunette herself only today. the statement reads more like a question. "i feel like stel's totally given up on seb," he supplies. "which, i dunno, i feel like maybe if him and rhys were just upfront with everybody - especially themselves - it'd be better. like, if they friend-coupled with other people so they could go back and be with each other? there's somethin' romantic about that."

CALLIE

her nose wrinkles at him when he pinches her, hand dropping from her cheek to rest on his thigh. "suuuure," she drags the word out, in a tone that very much implies her word can't be trusted. at this point, she's made peace with everyone in her life watching her actions: dad, grandparents, friends, exes. it doesn't make her more cautious than she should be, but it definitely has her thinking twice about recording a sex tape for the show to own forever. her eyes roll when he brings up her and jude, pushing him lightly in the chest. "are you close with all the other bombshells?" she nods at his question about romi, though naomi makes her pause. is that what she had told him, that they weren't friends anymore? crikey, all callie had wanted was another apology, but maybe that's too much to ask for from naomi. blinking away her thoughts, she shakes her head. "if that's what she's telling you," callie says vaguely, really not in the mood to talk about her. it was only a matter of time before she came up, seeing how quickly they've become friends, apparently. "yeah, she has." stella had basically told her as much. "they also could, y'know, just go back alone for each other. it's not like they need to bring someone back.  they're just thinking about the game of it." and it's clear from her tone she doesn't approve.

ANGEL

god, it better be easy to ignore after awhile, can imagine the thought'll pop up in his head like a cold sweat at the most inopportune time. he'll just count himself lucky that her brother isn't currently living in the same villa on top of that. "mhm," angel answers easily. "i usually chill with jude and char the most. me and dante are gym bros. zeke's a good chat even though i get kinda distracted by that mug. oh, and stel wants to go to mexico with me after this." musing smile follows that bit, hadn't exactly realized he was tight with all of 'em 'til he listed it out. callie's pause lasts a fleeting moment, but anybody could probably see the train of thought steamrolling through her head. "she says you guys aren't really talking right now," he corrects. "she's not exactly, like, jane here's-what-i'm-thinkin'." not entirely true, he thinks naomi's gone into some detail with him about certain things, but it seems obvious that she's not the kind of person to go into depth about the stuff she feels particularly vulnerable about. he'd imagine callie rates high on that scale. "it's kind of funny," angel decides, snorting at the thought of rhys and seb playing these little games with each other. "like, they really do deserve each other. it's a good match. just... y'know, sucks for the bombshells."

CALLIE

his expression makes her laugh, tapping his chin lightly. "it's fine," she assures him. "they know what we signed up for. if they're still watching by now, it's on them." callie can already hear her grandma's lecture about her shower stint in her head. now that she knows it was aired on the show (which she really hadn't thought they'd do, but maybe she was just being optimistic), she's going to be a little more careful about what and where she does out in the open. "so all of them," she grins, thinking it's nice they all get along. if only her islanders were the same way, although they've known each other a lot longer, so maybe that's all it is. her smile fades a little as he continues talking about naomi, holding back a roll of her eyes. "she seems to tell you enough." with naomi not speaking to romi or callie today, it's hard not to watch her hang out with angel and not feel a bit replaced. "i don't want to talk about naomi," she tells him, knowing it's not exactly making her the open book she said she is, but talking about naomi means talking about frankie, and she's not ready for that presence to shape in their conversation. "yeah, i guess," she nods a bit, never really thinking about it like that. "it happened so suddenly, i'm still trying to process it. but rhys seems happy, so good for them. it does suck, though. i really like all of you." well with one exception, but she doesn't need to say it.

ANGEL

“it’s on them,” angel repeats, amused and incredulous. can’t help but roll his eyes. “so easy for you to say, you aren’t sticking it on somebody’s granddaughter.” with them watching, no less. but he’s playful, he’s breezy. angel leans his forehead heavily onto the top of her shoulder as he gets the sense there’s nothing he can say about naomi that callie won’t repeat back at him with vague distaste. “who else is she gonna tell?” he pulls back to watch her face, smiling with some levity. definitely isn’t connecting any dots back to frankie, though it probably wouldn’t change anything anyway. “no? i dunno, i got a big mouth. dunno when to stop talking. no idea how you’re gonna shut me up about it.” well, some ideas. head nods thoughtfully, more unwilling to broach the topic as it pertains to the reality of casa ending, of his new friends leaving, of him potentially leaving. “well, good news is there’s still time for somebody to go fuck their shit up,” breathless laugh at that, sardonic. “things have been moving fast, everybody figuring each other out and stuff.”

CALLIE

"what, like you don't have a grandmum? i'm pretty sure i was the one to stick it onto you, twice," she gives him a pointed look. with his head buried in her shoulder, callie's eyes are free to roll as they please, smirking as he pulls away. she'll take it as a rhetorical question, when the obvious choice feels obvious, and because she knows he probably means well. still, it does make her feel a little anxious, not know what else naomi has said about her to him. "you're an idiot," she shakes her head, amusement in her features as she leans forward as if she's going to kiss him again—only to pull away after their noses brush, smile smug. "everything moves so fast here, it's true." this time yesterday, she certainly hadn't expected something like this for herself, but for the first time in a few days, callie feels hopeful. "all we can really do is take it day by day, yeah?" she's not just talking about casa as a whole.

ANGEL

"oh, please, challenges don't count." unless you're jude, of course. "and it's totally not the same thing." after all, callie's a cool, interesting australian girl. angel's some fuckin' dude. now, though, he's mostly just arguing for arguments sake, too amused by trading attitude with her. there's a groan that vibrates lowly in his chest, taking as much proximity she lends him, his nose sliding against her's 'til he's left hanging with a pursed smile. "you're beautiful." even when she's teasing him. "but also somehow brutally slow," angel adds onto her sentiment with a wry chuckle. "like, breakfast feels like ages ago, doesn't it?" it's the same kinda feeling he gets with naomi or jude, too, like they're strangers, but not. as if they've lived a life in here already and he knows them so well because of it, but it's only been two days. weird. "yeah," he agrees with a short, relieved exhale. although he knows he's gonna walk away from this chat with a diving-board-sized spring in his step, there's the distinct understanding that pressure is gonna follow along shortly. "day by day sounds perfect. i just wanna keep comms open between us, y'know? i wanna keep talking to you. no bullshit, all that. that's what i know for sure."

CALLIE

"oh please, it's defo the same thing." she could bicker with him all night, if for no other reason than to run out the clock, until the time comes when they're hustled into bed. but thinking about bedtime reminds her that she needs to catch up with romi still, to figure out where she'll even be sleeping tonight. callie misses the days of her name on a bed, the finality of it all. her nose scrunches across at him from being called beautiful, paired with a shy smile to show just how awkward she is at taking compliments. "no, literally," she laughs, nodding. "the days go by so slow, and then suddenly everything's changed in a matter of, like, two days. it's crazy. i feel like i'm gonna leave the villa and all my friends will have aged five years." time definitely moves different here than it does in the real world, that's for sure. "no, for sure," she nods, grateful but not surprised they're on the same page. "that's all i want, too. and if that changes, you'll be the first to know." it makes her nervous that she doesn't see it changing in the near future, a tide turning in what she had thought would be smooth sailing. but right now she's feeling good, which is why she doesn't love what she has to do next. "alright," she sighs dramatically, gripping his shoulders as she turns her body to slide off his lap, fixing her dress once she's stood up. "i should go find romi. i'll let you know what happens, yeah?"

ANGEL

"defo not," he volleys automatically, a slight mimic of her accent. angel snorts, nodding, understands exactly what she means. "right? or we'll be aged five years." the mention of her friends makes him realize he knows nothing about them, just another detail to add to the list he needs to learn about her. feels like there'll never be enough time. the idea of this changing hasn't not occurred to angel, especially considering that this is only this as of, like, a few minutes ago, but hearing the words like fine print on callie's lips tightens his chest a bit, an involuntary kneejerk even he hadn't been expecting. still, he nods, genuinely pleased she agrees, that they're on the same page. "yeah," he matches her sigh, looking up at her with a crooked smirk once she's stood. "i should go make sure jude hasn't flung himself off the terrace... 'kay," he takes her hand as he heaves himself up, squeezes it before they start parting their separate ways, "i'll catch up with you in a bit. tell romi i'll, like, do all their dishes or something."

#one of these days im gonna get tired of transcribing discord shit #but today is not the day #callie & angel 004 #callie & angel ; #callie ;

[aot-fan-fic]

Armin x reader

part 3 : hectic

Series content : modern au, wet dreams, horny, sneaky, (sorta cheating but not really?? you’ll get it later), always on each other, pregnancy….

———————————————————

Moments go by, and you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It doesn’t sound like Jonathan’s usual heavy stride, so it must be Armin coming up after the warning you sent him. Another loud set of steps follows closely after Armin’s, and you wish you had something to fiddle with.

A knock on your door sends shivers down your spine and you get nauseous - it’s Jonathan, and you’ve already got a pretty good idea of exactly what it is he wants.

“Babe open up.” he calls out in a stern voice. Reluctantly, you get up and unlock the door, but only open it enough to barely see him.

“What’s up?” you hold back the anxiety in your voice.

“What’s up is I want to be inside of you and I think you already know that.” His eyes glare down at you as his massive figure looms over you through the crack in the doorway.

“Honestly, Jonathan, I’m really not feeling that good... I think I’m supposed to start my period soon so I’m cramping and feel ugly.”

He pushes the door open fully, ignoring that he hit your forehead with the door as he pushed his way in.

A slam of the door behind himself makes it official - this is really going to happen right now and you want to hurl.

“Then get a towel, bitch. I couldn’t care less if you start your period. Not like I plan on eating you out anyway since you probably didn’t shave that ugly patch of hair you insist on keeping.”

He’s referring to the landing strip you keep above your vagina. You’ve always liked the look of it on yourself, and up until recently Jonathan liked it too - loved it even. But, after growing up with an alcoholic dad, the behavior wasn’t abnormal. Alcohol changes a persons cognitive abilities, even well after drinking if they are consuming too much, and Jonathan hasn’t gone a day in the last almost two months without drinking at least a handful of beers, if not a half a bottle of whiskey or vodka, whichever suits him more that day.

Reluctantly, you grab a dark towel and strip down to your plain tan bra and lilac thong that you had put on that day and lay down. Out of nowhere, a beer appears in Jonathan’s hand, and he shotguns it right beside the bed before mounting you, spilling beer both on himself and on the floor.

You shut your eyes and let out light moans to get him to finish quicker, pretending to be interested in his unimpressive moves and his beer breath - you’re ready to hurl.

After five agonizing minutes of faking it all you could, he finally finishes and gets off of you, but something felt off this time…

“I felt you cum at least three times on my cock. Come on, baby. I know I did a good job. And I know you liked how I finished inside you.”

“You WHAT Jonathan?!” you scream back. Never, in all the years you two had been together, had he finished inside of you. Neither of you had ever discussed having kids, and you definitely couldn’t afford one at this point.

“Shut up, bitch. Don’t be so surprised. It’s better I fill you than let the new guy believe he’s got some chance. Now you’d just be sloppy seconds to anyone else.” he lets out a loud burp and rolls off the bed, throwing on a pair of shorts as he walks through the door. “I’m getting more beer. Come get me for bed.”

Panic fills your entire body, and you run to the bathroom sink thinking you’re going to puke out of anxiety and disgust.

Immediately you look up the best ways to get sperm out of yourself, coming up with one main direct answer - taking Plan B. All the others don’t have a very successful outcome, so Plan B it is. There’s no way in hell you’re having Jonathan’s child, especially not right now and not under these circumstances.

You turn on the shower, scrubbing away every bit of Jonathan that was left on and in you as much as you can, then throw on a new bra and thong, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. You grab your purse and keys on your way out and head a few miles away to the drugstore, praying they’re open at 6pm on a Thursday and praying even further that your insurance covers some amount of Plan B so that you don’t have to pay for it fully out of pocket.

Luckily, both fall in your favor and after signing a waiver and showing your ID, you’re back in your car with the pill in under 10 minutes.

You quickly read over the side effects, understanding fully that you’re about to kill a potential future child, and decide it’s for the better - this isn’t how you want to bring a child into this world. Not with this man; not under these circumstances.

You swallow the pill with some water and rest your head on the steering wheel.

“I can never let this happen again...” you say to yourself. “He’s already gotten what he seemed to want, he has some issue with Armin and decided this was his best way of claiming me. Now, in his eyes, I’m claimed. I’ll use that to my advantage for any future.... encounters.”

Fuck him.

You drive home and slip back through the front door quietly so as to not alert him of your arrival, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. Armin is in the kitchen pantry with a spoon full of peanut butter and he peeks around the door to see you.

“Hey! I’ll pay for part of your groceries, I just wanted a snack and this was - hey... are you okay? You look....”

“I’m fine, just tired. I didn’t realize how tolling today was for me. Thank you for the Panda Express though, it was the highlight of my day for sure. Goodnight.”

You’d like to stick around and talk, especially since he genuinely does seem concerned, but it’s probably for the best that you stay to yourself and just go to sleep. You’ve got to get up early in the morning for work anyway.

You head up the stairs, giving Armin a weak smile as you disappear.

Disappear... how nice it would be to simply disappear right now...

You put on pajamas and doze off for the night, dreaming away the experience you just had and hoping for a better tomorrow.

————————————————————

Tomorrow comes and passes, and then the weekend, and then a full week. At some point during all of this, you truly did start your period which gave you confirmation of not being pregnant, but everything felt a million miles away.

After a week and a half, Armin pulled you to the side and asked you what was going on. Your best guess was that the Plan B just took a deeper toll on your body and mind than you initially thought it would, but there was no way you could say something like that to him.

You couldn’t even recall the last time you had eaten though, and you hadn’t gone for groceries since before Armin moved in.

“Come upstairs with me. Jonathan is drinking in the garage with his friends, he’s not looking for you.” Armin grabs your arm and leads you up to his bedroom, where he shuts and locks the door, then further into his bathroom where he again shuts and locks that door.

He grabs a wet facecloth and dabs your flushed cheeks. “You look like you’re sick. What’s going on? You’ve been like this for over a week.”

“I’m just on my period, that’s all.” you find yourself staring off past him. At some point you ended up on the counter in his bathroom right beside his sink, and he moved from the running water to directly in front of you.

He grabbed your face in his hands and forced you to look him in the eye, which brought you back into the real world for the first time since everything happened last week. No, wait, it wasn’t just his touch, it was the cologne he was wearing too. It was strong and musky, but not overpowering... It was enticing, sexual.

His eyes were staring directly into yours, and he watched your eyes light up as you came back into the world.

“There you are.” he whispered, his hands still cupping your cheeks. He’s only inches from your face, and his smell filling the air around you along with the instant rush of feelings makes your mind go crazy with ideas of Armin all over again, just like they had that first night.

“Hi...” you croak out as you stare dumbly into his eyes. You want to wrap your legs around his waist and draw him in close to you and kiss him, but that’s not really possible, right?

He gives you a sly smirk and leans in a little closer, as if seeing your naughty thoughts of him straight through your eyes.

“That pretty mind is thinking on something, isn’t it?” he says sweetly, then pulls away from you and wrings out the washcloth.

“Yeah, but...” Why must he be so much sweeter than any guy you’ve ever known?

You watch as the muscles in his forearms tense up as he wrings out the washcloth a few times... they’re well defined, but not insanely large or overly dramatic like bodybuilders. He cares about how he looks, and it shows.

“Hm?” he follows up. He must’ve asked a question while you were completely caught up in hyper-analyzing his forearms.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t hear you.” you become overly aware of how you must look right now, sitting there gawking at his body.

“Come on, pretty mind, don’t go zoning out on me again. I just brought you back! I asked what’s on your mind, I want to know what has the gears in that pretty head of yours turning.”

“Do you really want to know the truth? And if you do, I don’t want to be made to feel stupid so you’re not allowed to judge what I say, got it?”

“Well now I’m very curious... I won’t judge, I promise.” and with that, he sets the washcloth down on the counter beside you and gives you his full attention.

“Okay, well then...” you start out, blood rushing to your cheeks as you realize what you’re about to say could make everything insanely awkward for the foreseeable future. “Truth is, I was thinking about how nice it would’ve been a few minutes ago to wrap my legs around your waist and kiss you. I think it was just an in the moment thing, but I kinda got lost in the idea I guess.”

Armin’s entire face flushes and he goes wide-eyed.

“You promised you wouldn’t judge.” you remind him.

“This isn’t judging... I uh - I’m just surprised I guess. I didn’t think you found me to be the least bit attractive since Jonathan is basically the complete opposite of me. That’s all.”

“Okay... so then... what are your thoughts about it?” you egg him on, partially hoping the feeling is mutual but knowing how bad things could get if they were.

“I uh- I don’t know..” your heart sinks with his response and your partial smile fades away.

“No no no... it’s not like that.” he acknowledges the change in expression from you. “I just don’t think I would’ve had the balls to say something like that in all honesty like you just did. I guess I’m just not manly enough.” he lets out an awkward laugh.

You look up and meet his blue-ish/gray gaze again, and the drive to kiss him is still there, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. He doesn’t seem sure about the idea, and the moment where he was inches from you is -- is he leaning closer?

His hand reaches up to your face again, and his lips land on yours briefly, then attempt to pull away. You’re hungry though, and you don’t let him slip away that easily. You run your fingers through his hair to hold him in place, keeping him close as the two of you go in for kiss after kiss, each one getting more intimate until you finally decide to pull away.

You hop off his bathroom counter and run out of the room, feeling frisky and energized, as if a new world had just been created in front of you. You’d never felt that much passion from a kiss alone...

Your phone vibrates.

Armin : “well then…”

You : “well then to you too…”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #armin arlet #writing #fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #captain levi #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman #eren yeager #fyp #fun #write #for you page #this took forever

[rebelyelling]

That time again: things i have overheard at the dive bar i work at!

——

P1: Girl, it is freezing only wearing a sports bra

P2: Well if its any consolation you look great

P1 buying and putting on a bar shirt: Well youre gunna have to pay to see it again

——

P1: im sticking to you over here

P2 just minding his own business and zoning out: huh sure

P1 proceeds to talk his ear off for the better part of an hour: if i knew my phone number i would give it to you. Wait have my facebook!

P1 leaves

Me: you got a girlfriend

P2: a stripper girlfriend at that. Ima send her a friends request

Me: shes going to block you

— the next day —

P2: my stripper girlfriend declined my friend request

——

P1: that guy looks like a lumberjack

P2: and the girl hes with looks uncomfortable

P1 starts narrating whats happening

P2: shh wish.com lumberjack is going to hear you

——

P: well time to leave and never return

Me: why?

P: do you hear whos singing outside? Shes blowing us all away!

——

P1 and i singing a duet for karaoke

P2 at the end: fuck you guys. I have to follow that?

Me: good luck

Heading inside with a crowd of people

P2: and you took everyone with you

P1: well yeah cause you suck

——

P1: we brought the guy that pissed in the parking lot

P2: im sorry for that i really had to go

Me: we just wanted to throw our trash away

——

P: i need more pool shooty fluid

Me: what?

P *waves beer bottle*

——

P1: i call interference!

Owner: youre calling interderence on a pool game?

P2: we are

Me: we need to red flag this play

O: run it again. Too many defenders

P1: the felts too lose

——

P1 after p2 just fumbled a pool shot: you should get the batteries checked in that thing

——

P *reads bar riddles*: ITS COKE!

Me: its is not coke

P: its coke to me

——

P1: durring covid the bathroom was so clean that you could do a line off the toilet paper dispencer

P2 to me: what happened? The bathrooms are gross now

Me: we got tired of cleaning drugs up

——

Me: if you dont live here, work here, or sleep with someone that works here it is time to go

P: marry me!

——

Me: its [closing time] you dont have to go home, but you cant stay here

P1: thats from a song right? What song is it

P2: its closing time

P1: i know, but this song is bugging me

P2 sighs and drags p1 away

——

P1: hey [me]

Me: yeah

P1: why arnt you wearing your ring?

Me: my ring?

P1: yeah the one i proposed with-i never gave it to you!

P2: you forgot to give her a ring?

——

P1: crazy? If there is a crazy in [town] i probably have her number

P2: how?

P1: cause im a slut

——

O: if a cop comes in, we were here the whole time

Me: ok

P2 coming up behind her: we broke like every law!

——

P1: can we change the channel from the naked people?

P2: please do ive seen to many ass shots to be comfortable

——

P1 and i watching tv

Me: they just made whiskey out of milk

P1: thats one famous cow

P1 and i make sounds of disgust

P2: whats going on over there

P1: milk whiskey

——

P1: do you want another beer?

P2: only if [me] comes and rubs her boobs against me

Me: is that how this is going to go?

——

P: hows your day?

Me: well im here

P: upright and breathing

Me: not crying

——

Me to other bartender: you should read the com log theres some hot goss inside

P: am i in there?

Me: no even worse you in the [liquor commission] log

——

P1: [me] can you help? The balls didnt drop

Owner slightly tipsy walks up and kicks the table causing the balls to drop

P2: shes magic!

——

P1: going to go home and lay in bed

Me: that sounds like youre sharing a bed

P1 laughing: it does

P2: you got to watch what you say around here. People are gunna think we share a bed

P1: what do you mean? We do

——

Many many more but this post is getting long

[or-something-better]

October 16, 2022

Nightly RP      Guardian’s part 2     by Charlie

Charlie

pacing the main room of the bunker, checking my watch they should be here soon

Patience

walking in the bunker with some of the others after leaving the roadhouse

Henry

walks into the bunker what's up?

Patience

Hi Mrs butters and Charlie. What's going on

Mrs butters

sets out a tea pot, coffee, whiskey beer, some cookies and sandwiches on the table and then goes back into the kitchen

Charlie

Have a seat guys…I’m afraid you may have stumbled onto something big… Sam and Ruby didn’t come with you??

Alex

Take a seat and my hand went through my hair from stress out

Patience

taking a seat as Charlie asked  I can't eat but would love some hot tea

Charlie

taking my phone out of my pocket, I dial Sam’s number

Henry

grabs a cookie and sits on a chair

Sam

At Ruby's apartment my phone rings and I pick it up from the kitchen counter, noting the caller ID. Hey Charlie, what’s up?

Charlie

Hey Sammy… with everything that happened at Ellen’s… I’d like to have a meeting. Can you and Ruby be here??

Sam

Yeah sure, I think we’re almost finished here. Holding the phone against my chest, I call back into the bedroom. Hey Ruby, Charlie needs a timeframe on our return.

Ruby

Looking around, just about finished 10 minutes I think.

Sam

Not sure if you heard that, but she said give us about 10, probably closer to 15 minutes.

Charlie

Sounds great, thanks Sam. See you soon. hangs up

Sam

Great, see you soon. I hang up and slip the phone into my pocket. Then turn my attention back to our task at hand.

Ruby

Finally finishing the cataloging and am ready, I pop us over to the main room at the bunker.

Charlie

seeing Ruby and Sam appear I get everyone’s attention guys, now that we are all here… I’ll share what I learned so far… based on what you’ve told me and I’ve been able to dig up….

Sam

Sitting on a chair at the end of the map table, listening to Charlie

Alex

Listen to Charlie

Charlie

Based on the description… it sounds like one of the guardians…. What they’re guarding I’m not sure yet…. But it’s a big deal. There are three guardians, and they’ve all been concealed…. Looks like bill was hiding one…. Which means there are two more somewhere. If the three are brought together …. They unlock some sort of power…. Which based on what I’m reading will end the world again…..

Henry

That is terrifying

Alex

THEY NEED TO STOP IT!!!!!

Patience

hanging my head in disbelief thinking about my dad  umm yeah this is one of those times I miss my dad

Ruby

Sitting on the edge of the map table, I wonder out loud. Where would we even begin to start looking for the other two?

Alex

But how?

Charlie

I’ve got a couple leads… but honestly it’s not much….

Sam

Hey, I know someone that I bet could possibly have more information we could use.

Henry

Who?

Sam

Grinning at Henry. His name’s Bobby, he lives up in Sioux Falls. The man knows everything about everything and if he doesn’t, then he’ll know where we should be looking to find it. I can’t help chuckling. When you meet him, you’re just going to think he’s just some crotchety old hunter, but that man practically raised Dean and me. There’s none better.

Alex

Jump up from chair let go see him!

Sam

Alex, I think that’s a good idea and since it seems that artifacts of some sort are wrapped up in all this, I suggest maybe we take Bela Talbot along for the ride on this one. Regardless of her caustic personality, she’s quite the expert in that field.

Ruby

Shaking my head, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Of all the untrustworthy, lowlifes to work with…

Alex

Smiles yeah that great idea

Charlie

seeing the look on Ruby’s face I decide to speak up maybe Sam is right…. I mean last we heard of Bela her deal was up…. Crowley must have brought her back for a reason….

Ruby

Fine! Just remember if this goes wrong, I told you so. Frowning I pop to Bela. It takes a few minutes to locate her. Seeing her alone, no doubt sizing up her next mark, I walk over, take her by the arm, and pop out with her before giving her a chance to complain.

Bela

Ruby??? What? Suddenly popping into the bunker with her what the hell? I'm really getting sick of demons just grabbing me and popping me wherever the hell they want! Get your hands off me....

Ruby

Letting go of her No problem

Bela

What's the meaning of this anyway???

Alex

Heya Bela you want drink? You can sit we won’t bite you

Bela

Drink yes but I will stand if you don't mind.... Crossing my arms still pissed about the unwelcome hitched ride from Ruby.

Patience

sipping my tea I look up at Bella with a dagger stare suit yourself

Bela

I don't plan on being here long anyway

Alex

Oh okk Went sit next to Charlie

Henry

smiles and hugs Bella we won't hurt you

Alex

Drink

Bela

grabs a drink yeah.... Last I checked nobody trusted me so I don't even know why I'm here.... Still upset I sit next to Henry

Henry

Maybe in the end we can help you too

Bela

That will be the day.... Wishing Crowley was around as I'm nervous about why I'm here

Charlie

Bela, I know you have no reason to trust us…. But you saw the same thing the rest of them did at the roadhouse….

Bela

Ppppfftt yeah rolls eyes that about cost me my soul AGAIN....

Henry

What do you mean?

Bela

Stupid deals as always.... Crowley wanted me to help with getting some stupid map.... At least that's what he said... But then there was her there when we got there .... Now says we would have to win her over. For what I don't know.... But that's the only way to get my soul back so I agreed to help him...

Patience

listening to what Bella has to say  yeah that bastard has been a pain in our butts for to long he can't do anything without it costing a price

Alex

Drink never trust Crowley Put my drink down he almost cost my mom!  Never forget what happen what he did to my mom

Bela

Yeah well little to late now.... He's the only reason I'm ever here right now....

Sam

Look Bela… Ruby and I have a few things at our disposal that might could help, but we need to know you're going to work with us and not against us.

Bela

Why the hell would I do that??? You've never exactly trusted me either... Spoiled some of my best catches and cost me money....

Ruby

Are you forgetting who we have on our side? Someone WAY beyond Crowley’s pay grade.

Bela

He's the king of hell..... But.....what the hell do I need to do?

Sam

I’ll fill you in on everything, just as soon as we know a little more of what’s happening. I hold up the Charger keys First thing is we’re talking a little field trip.*

Bela

You don't even know yet??? And not via demon airlines again I hope? Glaring at Ruby

Charlie

We can take my car too… I’ll grab my gear…. picking up my keys I head towards the garage

Sam

It didn’t take long to pack the things we needed and load up the Charger for the trip to Sioux Falls. I pull the Charger into Bobby’s Auto Salvage Yard and park it as close to the front of the house as the junked cars will allow me to get.

Charlie

I pull in carefully behind Sam, and put my bug in park before getting out to stretch

Bela

get out of the charger and look around kinda keeping my distance a bit

Bobby

hereing the familiar sound of engines, I come out to where Sam parked. I smile. Sam, hey! I give him a hug then look around at the other faces. Wanna introduce me?

Sam

I wrap Bobby in a tight hug Good to see you again, Bobby. Stepping back, I indicate the others who are all getting out. Not sure how many of Team Free Will you’ve actually met so far, but this is Henry, Patience, Charlie, Alex and along for the ride is someone I’m sure you’ll not have forgotten… Bela.

Patience

gets out of the car at Bobby's

Charlie

I give Bobby a wave and a grin

Bela

waves quietly... Hoping he doesn't remember

Henry

gets out of the car

Patience

walks over to Bobby and gives him a handshake

Ruby

Getting out and stretching, I stand back, waiting.

Bobby

well, I WAS smiling. At Bela’s name I scowl. Oh not you! Hey, you keep you sticky fingers to yourself, understand?! Because I count things!

Henry

stands there hi waves

Ruby

I quietly smirk at Bobby's remark

Bela

glare at you they brought me here to help you old goat!

Bobby

she’s her hand but still has eyes on Bela

Ruby

We stopped in for a little help, Bobby.

Bobby

Phff, I grunt and fold my arms I’ll believe THAT when I see it.

Bela

Oh not like you don't have any ghosts in your closet to be trusted perfectly right? Anyway...

Bobby

Yeah, well, I expected as much. Come on in. I lead everyone inside.

Bela

follow the others inside

Patience

following Bobby inside

Bela

choosing to stand again

Sam

I take a seat on the edge of the small sofa I've spent countless nights sleeping on. Bobby's place always looked the same.

Bobby

At least my ghosts are nicer!

Bela

When they aren't trying to kill people right....

Charlie

heading inside I grab a seat in the armchair in the middle of the room

Henry

sits on the floor

Patience

sits next to Henry on the floor

Bobby

I will not hit the thieving bitch. I will not hit the thieving bitch. I will not hit the thieving bitch-

Bela

Thinking this geezer doesn't even have anything of value anyway in this trash dump

Ruby

Sitting beside Sam, I watch Bela carefully

Charlie

So…. When the team was at the roadhouse… they mistakenly released a guardian. I can’t find a lot of information on it Bobby…. Except that there are two more…. They were hidden…. Bill had it hidden in a picture frame…. Somehow it released her… I do know all three can’t be brought together by the wrong person… these guardians are like a key to something….

Bobby

after listening, I bob my head down with a sigh. Then I cross the room for another drink. I pour. I was afraid this might happen…

Henry

What do you mean?

Bobby

I helped with this years ago. Me and Bill found two of the guardians and we hid them.

Alex

The first one wasn't just found she was awake

Bobby

I pause and look toward you. I stomp a foot. Balls! You know with that much power hanging around, lots of others will come looking for it!

Patience

shocked with everything we've read there are 3 if Bill hid one and you know where one is where the hell is the third

Bobby

shrug They’d never find it. Trust me.

Bela

Start pacing around the room just looking through things watching the others carefully while I guestimate what the value of things are .. pocketing a random old coin.... And continue looking around as everyone is distracted but not wanting to draw attention. I just keep looking while listening to everyone

Bobby

I catch what Bela is up to mid-sentence and snap a finger at her. Hey! Watch it, princess! I know about you!

Bela

Not that you have anything of value anyway moving back to stand near the couch

Bobby

still, I watch her, not trusting her for anything. Anyway. They only found the first two because of some old journal bill found.

Sam

Bobby, where did Bill find the journal?

Bobby

On the body of a hunter, I say seriously, thinking about the damn shame it is to lose a hunter.

Ruby

My eyes widen with a memory

Bobby

I glance to Ruby It was some of your kind responsible. They exorcised the meatsuits and took care of the hunter. Whatever information he had, it died with him. I shrug, lost

Ruby

Doing a quick calculation of the last time I was here, the memory of that time becomes clear.

Bobby

I straight now But he didn’t know where he found it to begin with.

Sam

It was always a heartbreak to hear of a Hunter’s death Well, that gives us a place to start from at least. There’ve got to be clues somewhere.

Alex

Bobby do you have the journal still?

Bobby

Yeah, I got it, I say in a low voice. I go out of the room and return a minute or so later with the journey. I pass it to Alex.

Alex

Thank Bobby Smiles

Sam

I can tell by the look on Ruby’s face that she has more than a passing knowledge of the story Bobby’s telling. Reaching over, I give her arm a light squeeze. Want to share whatever it is you know with the rest of the class, Ruby?

Ruby

Giving Sam a ‘thanks a lot’ expression, I look down uncomfortably and then back up at Bobby I…was one of those demons.

Sam

Stiffens and whispers Really?

Bobby

my eyes widen and I gawk at her. I almost died in that, you know!

Ruby

Sorry, Bobby. I didn’t know you then. We’d been sent to find the hunter that knew the location no matter what. But you stopped us.

Bela

looking at Ruby... oh this is good... They worry about me but she was involved in killing hunters...smirks hearing the rubbish coming out of her mouth thinking likely story to cover your ass

Henry

Do you still have those days left on earth?

Ruby

I give Henry a wry smile Luckily, Henry, when you’ve been a demon as long as I have, it’s because you’ve done what you had to to survive. Fight, kill, but mostly, stash things away for another time when needed. I am pretty sure I still have it!

Patience

giving Ruby a dagger stare what do you mean?

Bobby

harumph

Ruby

Giving Patience a wink, I pop out without saying a word.

Sam

Surprised at Ruby’s unexpected vanishing, I look to the others and kind of shrug She does that, sometimes.

Ruby

Popping back, I have an old folder in my hand. Sorry it took so long. Lots of files to sort through. I open the file and take out a scrap of paper, handing it to Bobby.

Bela

Shocker.... That's what demons do

Bobby

I take it, reading it, or trying, and scoff. How are we supposed to read that?

Alex

Ruby! What is it?

Ruby

Shrugging my shoulders, I explain. Not really sure Alex. It looked important and I figured what the hell. That’s why I hid it in the first place.

Sam

I keep my relief at Ruby’s quick return to myself and manage a slight chuckle at her always quick thinking.

Charlie

looking at the paper it looks like some sort of code…. opening my laptop I’ll see if I can find anything similar on the interwebs….

Alex

Ohhh

Bela

my attention sparks up as I pay closer attention to the paper they are looking at, as I look over her shoulder at it I begin thinking oh now this is good... If only I can get my hands on that.... That could fill my pockets

Charlie

studying my laptop screen I have a few windows open these are close…. But I don’t see anything exactly the same…

Bobby

I notice Bela’s sudden interest in the paper and snap it away from her. Get your own damn paper. I grumble.

Alex

Reading over Charlie shoulder took a deep breath

Bela

I was just looking at it like everyone else.... Y'all brought me here to help remember

Bobby

Oh I think you’re up to a little more than lookin’ and helpin’.

Henry

Do you have any snack food

Bela

Not any more than you...you're not human or perfect soo.... Who's to say you're actually helping and not leading them all into a trap?

Bobby

I point to the kitchen, still watching Bela like a banshee in disguise.

Sam

Watches Henry go to the kitchen and wonders if it's safe for him to go in there alone and unattended.

Henry

heads to the kitchen and raids it yes! I found gummies!

Bobby

I can’t believe this British speaking, Idjit. I wouldn’t go making accusations if I were you, Bela Talbot.

Patience

getting an idea I find a pencil and paper but getting frustrated I can't come up with anything throwing the pad and pencil across the room dammit it to hell

Bela

She assisted with killing your hunter friend.....

Alex

Ugh my head hurt went to go grab a tea

Sam

I can see that people are getting frustrated at our lack of progress. Okay, let’s go back to the basics for a minute. Whatever this Guardian was, we know that it’s old… maybe biblical or pre-biblical even. Maybe we should get our prophet Henry, looking at some of the Cuneiform tablets.

Ruby

I gasp. Biblical! Wait! I pull Charlie’s laptop toward me. Sorry, Charlie. I give her a chagrinned look. Quickly typing in what I think it is, I turn it back to her. King James Version 1611. Reading through the 'code', I tell her Write these down…Judges 8:11. Words 11-13. I continue until I’ve gone through them all. Don’t forget to add the last word on the note.  What do you have?

Sam

Show off… Then I chuckle I knew you could do it.

Ruby

I give him a dazzling smile

Charlie

I jot down the words as ruby tells me what to do and read out what I have written Had taken it and they pursued him younger brother took it into the mountain cabin

Bobby

I nod slowly Don’t mark me, but I might have some insight on that.

Bela

taking mental notes of everything and storing them back in my mind of everything I'm hearing and the info from the paper as ruby isn't the only one with self preservation skills

Bobby

I dig into my pocket for my wallet, ignoring all my dozens and dozens of fake ID’s, and pull out a piece of paper.

Sam

I watch Bobby pull a piece of old, thin paper from his wallet and hand it to me, What’s this? Across the top of the page is the heading ‘Safe Houses’ and I look up meeting Bobby’s eyes. Really?

Bobby

I unfold the paper and hand it to Sam. hunters didn’t used to work alone. There used to be a whole mess of them in networks.

Alex

Wishes thing that stayed that way I don’t know what I would do without her family

Henry

Life was hard before the bunker

Patience

While I had a family this one means more to me than anything you all accept me for who I am and I love you all hopefully no one thinks me weird

Bobby

Normally I’d agree, but… it’s a lot easier to place blame than take responsibility, or admit you weren’t fast enough or strong enough to fight what you set out on fighting.

Sam

I nod at his words Yeah, Hunters are a protective bunch, there was a time period when Ellen used to hate me.

Henry

I can’t believe that

Ruby

Turning to Sam  Can I see the list?

Bela

Thinking about what the others are saying I decide to keep my thoughts to myself family... Protective. Yeah.  Wouldn't know anything about all that but maybe things could be different if I get to know this group more?

Sam

Sure, I hand the slip of paper across to Ruby.

Bobby

I point to the last set of coordinates try this one here.

Charlie

I type the coordinates into my laptop and it ends up in some dense forest area in Colorado Colorado it is…long drive

Ruby

I can pop us all there when we’re ready.

Patience

grabbing my bag and stand with Ruby

Sam

Getting up, I search though my Go Bag to make sure it was still supplied for just about a little of everything. Stepping closer to Ruby, I wait for the rest to get ready.

Alex

Alright! LET DO THIS SHIT!

Charlie

grabbing my bag let’s go I walk over with Ruby

Alex

Pick up my bag and walk over to Ruby

Bobby

I don’t see much I need to do besides grabbing a bag I packed for events such as these.

Bela

checking making sure I have my gun in my waist and wait ready to go

Henry

touches Ruby

Alex

Hold on to Ruby

Bobby

Going to Ruby

Ruby

Everyone ready? I pop us to the coordinates.

Patience

popped in the middle of maybe a forest looking around I trip over a rock well fuck you know it would be me to trip

Alex

Help pat up you ok Pat?

Charlie

looking around the wooded area we end up in, I wait for my phone to catch up and lock onto the pin, once it does I turn to the group c’mon, it’s this way!   turning to the right I make my way through the trees

Henry

I’m hungry Bobby didn’t have good snacks wines like child

Bela

appear with the others and see Charlie head through some trees ugh seriously? I didn't NOT wear the right shoes for this as I start following Charlie

Patience

Thanks Alex I'm on

Alex

Turn to Bear and go down try

Ruby

Looking at Bela's footwear Louboutin? I shake my head Figures!

Alex

Bela just take off

Bobby

We’ll eat once the work is done.

Alex

Them off

Bela

But.... I can't go barefoot.... Oh...Damnit.... Rolling my eyes as I take them off and carefully keep walking

Bobby

I cast Bela a narrowed glance as I pass her. Oh quit whining, princess.

Sam

As we make our way further off any kind of regular trail, I stop and turn back to everyone. Hey, guys… please pay attention to where you’re stepping and putting your feet. Be careful. Most of the Hunters I’ve ever met were pretty damn good at setting traps.

Alex

Bear rise my eyebrows you going be fine

Charlie

I keep walking carefully

Bela

You wear heels out here and see how you do... Still walking the path right behind char

Bobby

Not when I’m sober! I call back in a dry joke

Alex

You will live you not going to die Bela Smlies

Bela

Ok then shut up.... Ok Alex... I kinda figured that... I'm still going aren't I?

Alex

Bear wink

Patience

seeing a break on the horizon hey what's that

Bobby

Yeah, that’s where the cabin will be.

Charlie

Well let’s keep moving then…. I make my way the rest of the way to the cabin and head up to the door

Sam

Finally at the cabin, I cautiously enter inside and must admit that it looked cleaner than I would have expected it to look.

Alex

Walking with Charlie sweet

Bobby

As we walk in, I take in how clean and unused it is. Wow, I say honestly surprised. Most things hunters use normally go to shit pretty quickly. it’s just like I remember it!

Bela

Oh finally! Heading inside with everyone I lean on the wall and put my heels back on before looking around noticing how nice the place is

Henry

walks into the cabin this is really clean

Alex

Walk in Gabe damnnnnn this place is neat! I should’ve take this place

Bela

I as per usual look around judging the value of everything

Patience

going in the cabin I sit on the couch when a vision hits me.  Hey guys I'm having a vision there's an older man hiding something under the floor of the bedroom

Ruby

That’s a good sign! Smiles Good job Patience!

Sam

Agreeing with Ruby, that it is a good sign. I get up and go with Henry into the bedroom. I step around on the floor, listening to anything that might sound out of place. Near the end of the bed, I can feel a floorboard is loose and it makes a slightly different noise.

Hey Guys! Come here! I think we’ve found something! Getting down onto my hands and knees, I pry up the loose end of the board and remove it completely.

Charlie

hearing Sam I head in towards the room and see the lifted board just as Henry reaches in

Patience

as my head clears I follow to the bedroom

Ruby

Heading toward the group, I stand back and watch.

Bobby

I go to see what they uncovered

Bela

follow the others into the other room while looking around

Alex

Follow others

Henry

Picks up the box and my eyes roll back into my head you no not of what you seek, sower so

Henry

Henry’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he speaks in a voice that is not his own “you know not of what you seek, the sower sows, and the reaper reaps. The one you’ve thought of as your friend, may not be in the end….”

to be continued…

………………………………………

1.  Patience, Alex, Henry and Ruby come into the bunker after leaving the roadhouse to meet up with Charlie to learn more about what they had dealt with at Ellen’s. As they enter the room mrs butters sets out some refreshments and Charlie tells them to take a seat, as she calls Sam and Ruby. Henry helps himself to a cookie and grabs a chair, Alex sits down but is fidgeting with nerves. Patience says she can’t eat but will have a cup of tea. Sam answers the phone, he and Ruby have gone to the apartment for some magical supplies, he asks Charlie what’s up and she says that she wants to have a meeting, and she would like to have them present for it. Sam says they’ll be there soon as he and ruby finish gathering things. He hangs up the phone and ruby pops them over to the main room at the bunker.

2. Charlie explains what she knows about the guardians (there are 3, they’ve all been concealed. If they are all woken and joined they can lead the one who joined them to great power. The kind that could rival an archangel at least) Henry says that is terrifying. Alex says they need to stop it, but how. Patience says this is one of those moments she missed her dad…. Ruby asks if Charlie has any knowledge on where to begin looking for the other two. Charlie says she has a little, and Sam speaks up saying he bets he knows someone that may have a little more. Henry asks who and Sam grins as he tells them about a crotchety old hunter in Sioux Falls.

3. Alex suggests going to see him. Sam says that’s a great idea. He also suggests that since they’re going after what seems to be artifacts of some sort… maybe Bela wasn’t a bad one to have along. Ruby scowls at the idea, and Charlie steps in and says maybe Sam is right. Last they had heard of Bela—her deal was up. Crowley must have brought her back for a reason. Ruby still isn’t happy about the idea, but she pops out and brings Bela back who shows up arguing wondering why Ruby is manhandling her. She’d had enough of the demons in hell. Alex offers Bela a drink, and a seat. Bela says she will stand—- she was sure she wouldn’t be here long. Patience says suit yourself and sips her tea. And Henry smiles at her, helping Bela relax, and tells her they’re not out to hurt her. Maybe in the end they could help her out too. Bela scowls but sits next to Henry.

4. Charlie reminds Bela of what she saw at the roadhouse. Bela snarks at the team telling them it almost cost her her soul, AGAIN. Henry asks what she means and Bela tells him what Crowley offered. Patience says that’s dirty and makes a remark about Crowley. Alex says Crowley was never to be trusted. She would never forget what he did to her mom. Bela makes a comment about knowing too little too late. Sam and Ruby say they may have some ways to help. But they may need Bela to work with them instead of against them. Bela questions why she would do that, and Ruby reminds Bela that they have a higher power than Crowley on their side at the end of the day. Bela thinks for a moment and asks what she needs to do. Sam says he will explain once they know more. First they were taking a road trip. They pack up Sam’s charger and Charlie’s bug and head to Sioux Falls.

5. Sam and Charlie pull into Springers auto salvage, Bobby comes out to greet them-giving Sam a hug and asking for introductions. Sam goes around and each of the team mates greets bobby. Upon hearing Bela’s name bobby gives her a look and tells her to keep her sticky fingers to herself. Bela glares at bobby but tells him she’s here to help this time. Bobby grunts and says he will believe it when he sees it. Ruby speaks up telling Bobby they came for some help. Bobby laughs saying he expected as much and invites them in. Once they’re all seated Charlie shares what they know so far, and what happened at Harvell’s.

6. After hearing the story Bobby gets up and gets another drink, telling the team he was scared this would happen. Henry asks what he means, and Bobby says that he had helped with this years ago. He and bill had managed to get two of the guardians and hide them. Alex shares that the first one wasn’t just found she was awake. Bobby swears and tells the team when that much power is around, lots of others will come looking for it. Patience says that everything they’ve read so far, points to there being three. If Bill had one, and Bobby knew the location of the second—where was the third. Bobby just shrugs saying they’d never found it. Bela is wandering around the room, picking things up and mentally giving value to them all. _He looks over and sees Bela touching things. “Watch it, Princess! I’ve heard about you!” he tells her. They’d only found the first two because of some weird journal that bill found. Sam asks where they found that journal, and Bobby solemnly says on the body of a dead hunter. Ruby’s eyes go wide and she reacts. Bobby tells her it was some of her kind responsible for him. They’d exorcised the meatsuits and taken care of the hunter. Whatever information he had, died with him. But he didn’t know where he found it to begin with. Sam says that’s a start but there had to be some clues somewhere. Alex asks if Bobby still has the journal. He does, and he goes to get it and passes it to Alex.

7. Hearing Bobby’s story a spark of recognition appears in Ruby’s eyes and Sam knows something is up, so he tells her to spill. Ruby tells the team she was one of those demons and Bobby gives her a look- reminding her he was almost killed. Ruby apologizes but moves on and tells her story. Henry asks her if she still has anything from those days left on earth. Ruby reminds Henry that her whole existence has been about preservation.  Patience asks what she means and with a wink ruby pops out, only to return with an old file folder. Alex asks what it is, and Ruby explains she had never completely figured it out. It was in code so she knew it had to be important, which is why she hid it in the first place. Sam laughs at her forethought and Bobby asks how they’re supposed to read that?! Charlie takes a look and says it looks like a code of some sort, she opens her laptop to see if she can find something similar. Bela looks at the paper thinking about the value of it if she could just get her hands on it!

8. Charlie finds a few that look similar, but none identical. Henry asks Bobby if he has any snacks, and Bobby points to the kitchen. Alex is reading the laptop over Charlies shoulder and says looking at all of that is making her head hurt, so she goes to get a cup of tea. Patience grabs a notebook and pen and starts to write down some ideas.  She’s not able to get it and gets frustrated, throwing the pencil across the room. Sam suggests going back to basics, whatever this guardian was, it was old… maybe biblical even. This sparks an idea for ruby, who is able to translate the message. Sam grins saying he knew she could do it.  Charlie asks where this cabin might be, and Bobby says he may have some insight into that. Bela takes mental notes and tucks them away. Ruby wasn’t the only one with self-preservation tendencies!

9. Bobby pulls his wallet out of his pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. Sam looks at him curiously as Bobby hands the paper to him. At the top of the page it reads “safe houses”. Bobby explained there used to be a whole network of them, hunters didn’t always work alone. Alex says she wishes things had stayed that way. She didn’t know what she would do without her family. Henry agrees, saying life was a lot harder before the bunker. Patience says while she had a family, this one meant a lot to her now too. Bobby nods and agrees, but then tells the team when people get hurt or die—-it’s easier to place blame than it is to take responsibility, or admit you weren’t fast or smart enough to beat what you fought. Sam nods, telling the team how much Ellen used to hate him. Henry says he can’t believe that. Ruby asks to see the list, and Sam shows her as Bobby points to the last set of coordinates on the list. Charlie punches in the coordinates and it shows up as Colorado. Ruby offers to pop the team there, they all gather their bags and ruby takes them.

10. The team ends up in the middle of some trees somewhere in Colorado. Patience is looking around and trips over a rock, Alex helps her up while Charlie is using her phone to find the original pin, she locks down on it and tells the team this way and leads them further into the forest. Bela is complaining that she didn’t wear the shoes for this, and Alex tells her just to take them off. Bela protests but listens. Sam tells everyone to be careful, any hunters he’d ever met were pretty good about setting traps. Henry complains that he’s hungry and Bobby didn’t have any good snacks. Bobby tells him they’ll get food after they finish the work. Patience sees a break on the horizon and Bobby says that will be the cabin. They go inside and it looks clean, but unused. Bobby says it is just like he remembers. Patience sits on the couch and a vision strikes of an older man and hiding something under the floor of the bedroom. Ruby says that is a good sign.  Sam and Henry go into the bedroom and Sam finds a loose floorboard, he lifts it and Henry picks up a small box. The second the box is lifted out of the floor Henry’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he speaks in a voice that is not his own “you know not of what you seek, the sower sows, and the reaper reaps. The one you’ve thought of as your friend, may not be in the end….”

[provokedgoalie]

the sheriff's leather encased hands trailed a path down your arms; goosebumps forming at the surface of your skin.

your head lolled to the side, showcasing your neck to his hungry, steel blue eyes. it took all of his willpower not to attack your pulse point, to leave behind a scattering of violet patches.

instead, he leans in close – the scent of whiskey clouding your senses, “when you're in bed at night, with that sorry excuse of a partner, you'll be reminiscing about what I've done to you... how my touch alone can leave you a shivering mess.”

#he's probably more of a beer guy but i like the sound of whiskey better #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker blurb #tdatt #the devil all the time #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #sheriff lee bodecker #tdatt lee bodecker #alcohol mention #sebastian stan characters #darkbucky writes #sebastian stan #seb stan #chubby!bucky

[whaleofatjme1920]

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

#masky #masky x reader #masky scenario #masky creepypasta #tim wright #tim wright x reader #tim wright headcanon #masky headcanon #tim wright marble hornets #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets headcanon #marble hornets scenario #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta scenario #angst #hoodie #kate the chaser #ticci toby

[whimsicallyreading]

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

[idreamofplaid]

Whiskey and a Cabin

Square Filled: Skinny Dipping for @spnkinkbingo; Free Space for @spnfluffbingo; In Vino Veritas for @spndeanbingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Summary: The right mood, the right place, the right woman, and some whiskey help Dean realize the truth about what he wants. 

Word Count: 3628

A/N: It took me weeks to deliver the fluffy Dean smut I promised to everyone who voted for it. Life intervened. My muse left, and then she returned. So, here it is.

Whiskey is not my friend. I mean, yeah it’s gotten me through some tough spots. Hell trauma, an apocalypse or two, and boatloads of guilt. But last night, it turned on me.

This wasn’t the first time you helped Sam and me on a case. You’re the best damn psychic I’ve ever seen, even better than Pamela. You’d think I’d learn after what happened to her, but there’s no denying your kind of skills are helpful.

It was just a celebration of the end of another case and everybody still alive. That’s all. A few beers that turned into a few shots. Sam bowed out, like he usually does, after a couple of drinks. I should have known when I gave him the car keys, and sent him back to the motel, that I’d wake up in your bed. Hell, who am I fucking kidding? I did know. I knew, and it’s exactly what I wanted. 

This is the hard part. It’s time to leave town, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again. This could have happened before. I’m surprised it didn’t. Well, I’m surprised I didn’t try. I’ve gotten hard more than once watching you move, and thinking about the way you moved with me last night is making me hard again. 

I can’t do this. I can’t think about wanting to see you again. I can’t think about those sounds you made while I was buried deep inside you, and your body was tightening around my cock milking every single drop out of it. 

I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my fingers hit my cell phone. Damn it. I at least want to hear you again, maybe set something up for the next time I’m in town. I scroll through my list of contacts and stop when I get to your name. My thumb hovers over it, and I remember the way your hair smells like strawberries and flowers. I tap the phone against my forehead a couple of times. 

What the hell am I doing? My life is on the road with Sam killing monsters. There’s no room in that for a girlfriend. What woman in her right mind would sign up for that? I fling my cell phone on the bed and get up to finish packing. 

I’m shoving my shaving kit into my duffle when there’s a knock at the door. I zip my bag up, roll my eyes, and head for the door. “C’mon, man, you gotta do better than this. You’re slippin’ Sa…”

My mouth probably fell open. I’m pretty sure it did. It’s not my brother standing there; it’s you, and you walked into the room like you belonged there, like you’d been invited. I mean I would have asked you in, but….you were already there.

“Don’t look so surprised, Dean.” You got right up next to me, so close I could smell the sweet fragrance of your skin.

I watched you run your fingers straight up the center of my chest and play with the top button on my shirt before you let it go and dropped your hand. “Did you think I was just going to let you leave without even a good-bye after last night? And I know you would have. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve known you too long.”

I didn’t know what to say. Words usually just roll out of my mouth around women. Sometimes it’s too easy, but I had no idea what the hell to say to you. I couldn’t just stand there looking like an idiot though. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.

I ran my hand through the hair at the back of my neck. “I wasn’t gonna just...leave. I was about to call you.” You smiled at me, nodding your head in that silent “Uh, huh. Right.” kinda way. “I was, Y/N..because I want to see you again.”

You sat down on the bed next to my duffle, looked at it and ran your hand over the canvas. When you turned back to look at me again, you had that irresistible flirty smile on your face. “Are you saying that because I took advantage of you last night, Dean?”

I swear I felt the beginning of a blush making my cheeks warm. “You...you didn’t…’take advantage’ of me, Y/N.” If there was anything left that I could have pretended to pack, I would have, just to give my hands something to do, but you were too close to the bag.

Last night was a little hazy, but I remembered all of it. I could pretend I didn’t remember, but I doubt you’d let me get away with that, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend that things weren’t the way they were between us, like I wasn’t the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe it was the happiest I’ve been ever.

There was no flame burning in the fireplace, but the logs were still there. We were deep enough into spring that it wasn’t cold enough for a fire anymore, but it was still nice sitting on the floor in front of it with you. The logs might not be burning,  but I could smell the earthiness of the hickory. I liked it. It made this place you’ve created for yourself seem even more like a home somehow.

You poured more whiskey into my glass, and the bottle clinked when it touched the rim. The sound seemed almost festive, if those kinds of things happened in my life. For me, it was a little sad. It reminded me I didn’t have moments like that, couldn’t have them.

I let my mind wander for a second, longer than I should have. You looked so pretty sitting there on that rug that I know you picked out special just for this spot, just so the floor wouldn’t be bare. Uncovered floors felt temporary. They were as is. Nothing about them said “I’m going to stay here. This is my home.”

Being in a place that felt like this, like it had some roots, and being here with you, was making me feel things I usually kept buried deeper than the bones in the graves me and Sam dug up, but I couldn’t salt and burn this feeling away.

I should have stopped drinking, but it felt so good being here with you. It felt comfortable, and all those things together were enough to get me to start talking. You asked an open ended question, the kind I usually deflect in a heartbeat, but I didn’t this time.

“What are you thinking, Dean?” I watched your lips close around your glass as you took another sip of your whiskey. It was the Crown Royal kind you like with some flavor in it, but I didn’t even care that it was something I’d never drink, and why do I remember the kind of whiskey you like?

“Dean?” You were smiling at me and I was way too lost in this moment for my own good. “I asked you what you’re thinking”

I smiled back at you. It felt good to be smiling, for real, not pretending to be okay or trying to be funny to make myself think I was okay. This really felt good. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the most original thing I’d ever said, but it was true. The next thing I said was better. It was so much better. I opened up that vault inside me where I keep my more complicated life feelings locked up and let them pour out.

“You’ve really made something for yourself here, Y/N. It’s the kind of place a  guy could picture himself staying for awhile.” You didn’t say anything. If you had, that might have stopped my grand confession, but you didn’t; and I kept going.

“I think about being somewhere like this, a lot.  I think about having a home and somebody to share it with. Somebody like you.” My eyes found yours, and for the first time I noticed just how pretty they are. I mean, I knew. You’re a beautiful woman, but I don’t think I’d ever seen you before like this. You weren’t just a potential one night thing, or at best a string of nights. 

I’d never thought before about waking up beside you for something really wild, like a whole week, because I was never anywhere long enough for that, much less something, permanent. And I knew, even though I never admitted it, that permanent was something I wanted. It was something I wanted, and right now you were making me ache for it.

You put down your glass and scooted closer to me. The way you were biting yur bottom lip made me want to taste it.

I tasted your lips last night and most of the rest of your body too. The memory of just how sweet you are is still on my tongue if I think about it, and it makes my mouth water wanting more of you.

I swear you can read my mind. That look in your eye, it’s like you know what I’m thinking. Not that it’s all that hard to figure out. I hope you’re remembering last night the way I do.

You lean over to the nightstand between the two beds, open the drawer, and pull out the motel’s notepad along with the pen they provided. Then you start to write something on the top sheet. That’s one of the things about you that makes me absolutely crave you; I never know what you’re going to do next.

I move a little closer, trying to see what you’re writing. Finally, I give up and ask, “Who’s the note for?”

You keep on writing while you answer me. “It’s for Sam, so he knows I’ve taken his brother for a couple of days.”

When you finish writing, you hold the pen and notepad out to me. “Now, tell him you’ll see him back at the bunker.”

I look at the page and what you’d written there. “Sam, Dean’s going to be staying with me for the weekend. Don’t worry. He’ll be well taken care of.” Y/N.

That last sentence was making my cock twitch. I took the pen and wrote: See you back at the bunker, Sammy.

You tore the sheet off the pad of paper and put it on top of the table where Sam would be sure to see it. We both knew it was rare for my little brother to miss anything. I stood there not moving, a little in disbelief about what was happening.

The smile on your face was indulgent and a little amused. You were enjoying this, enjoying me not quite knowing what to do. You closed your hand around my chin, fingers on each side of my face, and kissed me. I could still feel the warmth of your mouth on mine after you pulled away.

You gave my ass a pat as you walked by me on your way to the door and said, “C’mon, lover, I’ve got plans for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your house is off the main road, surrounded by trees with a lake out back. It’s a cabin, but not like any cabin I’ve ever been in before. You’ve got a real kitchen with real cabinets, instead of rough shelves some hunter nailed to the wall just to be functional. There’s a place to eat in the kitchen too. As in, there’s an actual table where you have home cooked meals, instead of something just dumped out of a can.

Your bed is like a dream. You don’t sleep on cheap motel sheets that can be more accurately described using the word threadbare than thread count. Add you, naked and beautiful, to the mix; and it’s better than a dream.

I’m still lost in memories and possibilities of what we could have here together when you walk up behind me, put your arms around me, and rest your hands flat on my chest. I feel you lay your cheek against my back for a few seconds before you turn your head and put a kiss on my shoulder blade.

I turn in your arms and pull you up against me; it feels like you’re even closer than when you were behind me. Maybe because my cock is more than a little interested in resuming last night’s activities when it’s pushed into you like this. I lean down to kiss you, knowing exactly where I want this to go.

The way you kiss me is warm and soft, but there’s fire behind it. You’re everything I want, even the things I don’t let myself think about. Sex is the easy part, but you make me feel. You make me want to hold you always, and that’s a dangerous thought.

You’re the first to break the kiss and take my hand in yours. “C’mon, Dean. I didn’t get to show you the deck last night.”

I follow you outside, and the view out there is unbelievable. It’s hard to believe you live here; you get to see this every day. This is your life.

Your hand is still in mine, and I can picture us sitting there on your deck, sipping a couple of beers and watching the sun go down. Something else is on your mind though, and I don’t have the first objection to that.

You push my flannel back off my shoulders and drag it down my arms. It falls to the wooden floor behind me. You’re looking me up and down, making a big show of licking your lips.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Dean.” You pull at the front of my t-shirt, and I get the hint. I strip out of it, and you make a point of running your eyes over my naked chest. “Still too many clothes.” You say it with a certain gleam in your eye that I’ve seen there before.

I look around, feeling self conscious, like I’m expecting people to appear out of the trees. There’s nothing but pines and water. This is a private show.

I take off everything I’m wearing until there’s not a stitch left on my body. You run your hand down my side. As it gets lower, you move it around to my back so you can cup my ass and squeeze.

My body likes that. It likes that a lot. “Are we going to do this right here?” I ask you.

“Yes, Dean, we absolutely are.” You bite your bottom lip. You’re being all flirty and seductive with me, and I love it. Your teeth let go of your lip, and your tease your fingertips across my chest. “Just not yet,” you say.

I watch you taking your clothes off while my cock gets harder. You’re going to make me wait, and that’s hot. I’ll wait to come for you. I can’t believe I just said that, even in my own head.

You take my hand and lead me down the wooden steps of the deck. When my toes hit the grass, it feels good; but not as good as you look. Your hips curve just right, and your ass is so full and round; I can’t wait to get my hands on it. The way you walk, almost like you’re drifting over the ground, is so graceful. Fuck, but you are beautiful.

Just watching you has made me completely hard by the time we get to the lake, and I follow you into the water. It’s warm enough that my dick and my balls stay full and heavy. When we’ve reached a place where the water is up to my chest and lapping at my nipples, making them hard too, you stop and turn to me. 

The water has completely covered your breasts so I can’t see them anymore, but I can feel them. I cup them in my hands below the waterline and flick my thumbs over your nipples. The sound that comes out of you is breathy, needy, and one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. It makes my dick bob in the water.

“Kiss me, Dean.” You say it through those beautiful hot moaning sounds you’re making. I wouldn’t deny you anything, and this is such an easy thing to give you. I want you so bad right now. There’s nothing but the feel of you in my arms as my lips close over yours, and the warmth of the sunshine on my shoulders.

The taste of your tongue is sweet on mine, and the deeper the kiss goes, the more I want you. You jump up and wrap your legs around my waist, and I grab your ass with both hands to hold you up. Your kisses are getting more intense, and I want you so much now, my cock is throbbing. I’m sure I’m leaking a steady stream of pre come, but it’s impossible to tell. You grind your hips against my aching cock, and I let out a groan louder than I meant to, but who’s going to hear us? We can make all the noise we want.

You’re kissing along my jaw and squeezing your thighs around me. “Take me, Dean. Right here. Need to feel you inside me, stretching me open.”

“Baby girl, you’re gonna make me crazy if you talk like that.” I’m almost gasping for breath at this point, at least if feels that way.

“Then stop talking,” you tell me. “Fuck me right now. Here. Under the sky with nature as our witness. Do it, Dean.”

I lift you up higher; you take my cock in you hand and position me at your entrance. Then I lower you down onto me. You’re so tight and feel so good I could almost cry from the relief and rightness of it.

I’m lifting you up and down, helping you ride my cock, while the water sloshes around us. You reach down between our bodies to stroke your clit and throw your head back, urging me on the closer you get to coming. “More, Dean. Harder.”

For once, I’m glad Sam nagged me about using the gym in the bunker. “We have it” he kept saying. Right now, I’m damn glad I wandered in there on a few occasions. I need all the balance skills I have to navigate the uneven bottom of the lake while I thrust up into you for all I’m worth.

Your pussy is grasping at my cock, choking it, challenging me to last a second longer. I will because you’re gonna come all over me before I let myself go. When I feel your walls start to clench around me and your nails start to tear at my back, I know I’ve got you.

“That’s it, baby. Mark me. Show me how good it feels.” I drag across your sweet spot and push into you as deep as I can. Your body shakes in my arms when you come.

The sound of you saying my name while you come undone is more than I can take. I fill you up, shooting my load inside you; and when I’m done, I drop my head onto your shoulder. “Y/N...that...you...are incredible.” I’m talking into your skin because I haven’t raised my head yet.

Time passes, I don’t know how long, with us wrapped around each other just like that. The next thing I’m aware of is your fingers combing through my hair. Ilift my head to kiss you again, and I can feel something shift inside me. It clicks into place.

Everything I said last night is the total truth, but there isn’t a drop of whiskey in me now. I could stay here with you, want to stay here with you. With that thought in my head, I walk out of the lake carrying you all the way back to the deck.

When we get there, I notice the folded up quilt and the pillows stacked beneath one of the windows. You had this planned all along. “Can you stand, sweetheart?”

Your head has been laying on my shoulder, and you turn it to kiss me right beside my neck. “I can make it,” you answer softly. 

My body has been separated from yours for awhile now, but when I put you down to spread out the quilt and pillows; I feel the loss of that contact in my gut. I need to hold you again.

I get things set up as fast as I can, sit down on the quilt, and pull you down with me. You lay back and put your head on a pillow first, and I can only hope you’re as eager as I am to feel our bodies wrapped around each other again.

It’s probably been less than two minutes since I let go of you, but that still seems like too long when I take you into my arms again. For a little while, my life is perfect. The warm sun overhead dries our skin while I run my fingers lightly up and down your back. Your head is on my chest where it belongs, and a bird singing is the only sound. I want to freeze this moment forever.

“Dean?” I kiss the top of your head.

“Yes, baby.” My fingers are still moving on your back while I wait for you to ask your question. “Do you think Sam would be okay in the bunker by himself for the next week?”

I feel a big smile spread across my face. “Oh, I know he will.” This is definitely the start of something. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911 @calaofnoldor

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

Voters: @just-call-me-kim @siospins @jamzm @deandaydreaming​

#spnkinkbingo #spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #dean smut #dean fluff #dean x reader

[troubatrain]

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin​ @blueskrugs​ & @fenwaynightlights​ for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it? 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV. 

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #My writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[writing-in-april]

A hair’s breadth

Javier Peña x Female Reader

Summary: Javier and Reader can’t help but be at each others throats. Javier gets fed up with the teasing one night.

A/N: Hey everyone! Here’s my nineteenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! Sorry this is out late- I had a job interview!! (I got the job! 🥳) This is based off of this and this request! There’s not as much Spanish in this one- though one day soon I want to try to write all the dialogue for Javier in Spanish- (I am trying to learn how to be better at it im just very nervous I’ll get it all wrong 🙃) Please feel free to drop me a message in my inbox here (I promise I don’t bite) Thank you for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Protected Sex (wrap it up especially with Javier lol), Fingering, Hate fucking, Public sex (who’s surprised), Hair pulling, Choking, Mirror sex

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.9k

“Do that again I dare you.” Javier had you pushed up against the wall of his apartment, with his hand around your throat. How you had gotten in this position was as a result of one of your regular fights you often had with him.

This time it had been over something even more petty than the last time. You honestly couldn’t remember exactly what had started it. It had been something to do with some obscure line in the paperwork you were filling out while over at his apartment late at night past embassy hours. What had been a small issue then turned into a full blown argument, snapping and yelling at each other until it reached its peak.

Javier knew that he shouldn’t have said that just by the look on his face while he had a hand around your throat. You had slapped him after a misogynistic comment, which then had him slamming you up against the wall.

“Fuck you!” You yelled, but did not move to get out of his grip. He was about to respond with probably another biting comment when you were both interrupted.

You both looked over to his front door when there was incessant knocking, which was probably only from one person. “Hey Javi! Do you or Y/N want to go out for a drink tonight?” Steve’s voice being shouted through the walls confirmed the source of the knocks. You were glad his door was closed, otherwise this would've been an awkward situation to explain to your coworker.

Javier looked back at you one last time with a hard look on his face; it was a normal occurrence for you to receive that type of look from him. You smiled despite his hand around your throat as you had gotten what you had wanted, you had succeeded in riling him up.

Steve knocked again, this time a little harsher. He didn’t look away this time, eyes narrowing in on you further, like he was trying to decide if he should release you from his clutches. Though, it wasn’t that you were completely helpless, you could force him off of you if you wanted. But, you wanted to see what he would do.

“Are you going to answer him?” You goaded, biting your lip when you finished speaking, eagerly waiting for his response. No verbal comment came from him, instead he released the hold he had on your neck. You slumped a little, not out of pain as his hold hadn’t been that tight, you had just been surprised when he released you so quickly.

“Lo siento…” Was mumbled under Javier’s breath. You wondered if he meant for you to hear it or if he said it only to ease his conscience.

Javier walked over to the door to swing it open with you in tow, luckily already recovered somewhat from his hand around your throat. Steve jumped slightly when Javier opened it forcefully, then smiling when you both responded to his question, albeit gruffly, “Yeah, sure.”

—-

Javier clenched his fist hard while you took a drink, smirking into the glass was the only indication that you knew exactly what you were doing. You had spruced yourself up a bit to go to the bar, slipping on a dress you had just bought recently and putting on a pair of high heels. As soon as you had appeared back downstairs where Steve and Javier had been waiting for you his jaw had clenched hard, just like his fist was doing right now.

You were sat at the edge of the booth you had all congregated in, Javier was right across from me and Steve was by the window absentmindedly drinking a beer. He didn’t notice how you were sat slightly to the side, inching the dress you wore higher just to see Javier’s fist clench more.

“I’m surprised you guys were actually working together without me there.” Steve scratched at his jaw. We both pretended to partially focus back on him for a moment, Javier’s fist dropped much to my disappointment.

You glanced over at him then giving him one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told, “We’ve found a way to- resolve our differences.”

Javier took an angry gulp of whiskey, somehow it was possible that he was now even more pissed off at you then before. He opened his mouth to probably say something backhanded as usual, but Steve steamrolled him unintentionally, “Well- I’m glad, the office is kinda painful to be in when y’all are having one of your arguments.”

“Well hopefully we won’t bother you anymore.” Javier finally got a word in and it was just as snippy as expected.

You then downed the rest of your drink in one gulp, a little tipsy now from the few drinks you’d had so far. A dull thud from you setting the glass down on the table was swallowed by the noises of the other customers and employees around you. You got up, fed up with getting only little responses from him, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

—-

“Javier what are you doing?” You asked incredulously when he entered the women’s restroom, but weren’t given an answer. You didn’t pull away when he pulled you close, dipping his head to suck a hickey on the underside of your jaw. You only keened into his touch, you may have hated him, but it did feel amazing. Your teasing had worked

“I told Steve I was going to the bathroom too.” Giving a quick summary before continuing his assault on your skin, “You drive me absolutely crazy.” He spitefully said into your skin in between sucking and biting your collarbone. You didn’t care enough to respond, he knew you felt the same. In a flash he pulled your dress off of your head, exposing all of you except what was covered by your bra and underwear.

When he then gripped his fingers around the fabric of your panties and ripped them off, you gasped in anger. He then ran his fingers through your folds, stopping at your clit to run small circles into it. You were still angry about the ruined panties on the floor, and the fact that with just a few touches he was proving why everyone fell at his feet after they slept with them. “I liked those!”

“You seem to like this too.” His fingers sped up their movements, alternating between hard and light pressure. Your orgasm was building embarrassingly quickly, you almost wanted to hold it back so Javier didn’t get a big head. It felt too good though, and you didn’t have a lot of time.

You were both a hair’s breadth away from getting caught, Javier’s fingers continued their movements with no thought. Steve was drunk, he might even be asleep right now. But, one wrong move and he’d hear Javier fucking you in the bathroom.

“Javier!” You shouted, not thinking about the volume, when he pulled his fingers away from you just as you were about to fall off the edge. He then brought his wet fingers to his lips, sucking off any evidence of your arousal. It was hard to be mad when he looked so hot doing that, even though your clit was throbbing now.

“Need to fuck you now- this’ll take too long if we wait for you.” You wanted to snap at him again, his comment flippant and somewhat rude. That was until he pulled his cock out of his pants, already hard just for you. Your mind switched gears after that.

“Condom?” He grunted in response to your question, then pulled one out of his wallet. You were about to ask how long it had been in there, but with the rate he fucks, you doubted it had been there for long.

Once he slipped it on he commanded, “Bend over.” You scoffed, about to retort that you’d never bend over for him. But, Javier beat you to the punch, “I won’t ask again, I’ll leave you here naked and dripping.” You shuddered at that, your arousal was too much to ignore. So, you let him have one victory, hopping off the counter to bend over.

You caught sight of your disheveled state in the mirror, your legs buckling a little because of it. You already looked completely ruined by him, and he hadn’t done much besides fingering you. Javier must have caught you staring at yourself, and him if you were being honest, wrapping his hand around your hair to push you closer to the mirror. “¿Que? You like watching yourself? You like getting fucked while Steve and everybody else could hear you?”

You tried to nod your head, but with his firm grip on your hair while he began to sink into you, all you could do was moan. Once you realized that you were most definitely being too loud you stopped yourself making any noise by biting your lip hard. When the front of Javier’s thighs hit the back of yours he leaned forward to whisper angrily in your ear, “Yeah- you do like this.”

His pace was rough, but not sloppy, quick thrusts that had your ass rippling from the force. This was going to be a quick and dirty fuck, Steve would soon come looking for us if we didn’t get our orgasms over and done with. Besides, all you were looking for was a release, being with Javier for more time than was necessary just sounded like a punishment. Despite the pace he was keeping up, he still managed to keep your head right where he wanted it, looking directly in the mirror.

Your orgasm was building up again, even faster than before since you were already sensitive. At one point when your eyes began to roll back as you got closer Javier snapped that you should keep your eyes open.

“Come on, cum.” He growled out once he noticed how close you were, “Cum while Steve is out there- wondering where we went.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that, your orgasm crashing over you. Javier reached his own peak while you were riding out your own, filling the condom, gripping your hair and hip hard as he did.

Once your highs had abated he pulled out of you with a groan, quickly tying off the condom while you were still bent over and recovering with gasped breaths.

“Hey Javier?” You asked right as he began to turn around to go, letting you put your clothes back on and clean up in peace.

“¿Sì?” He turned around to face you again, looking much more put back together than you were with your makeup still smudged. You had the remnants of the panties he had ripped off of you dangling on your finger.

You wrapped your other hand around his belt he put back on, pulling him back closer to you so you were both chest to chest. You then stuffed the scrap of torn fabric into the front pocket of his jeans until they were completely hidden.

“Now you get to sit right next to Steve while they’re in your pocket.” He gulped a little and you gave one last remark before turning back to clean up your makeup, “And, you’ve got to pay for a new pair, I liked those.”

Though he boiled your blood as you walked back to the table where he had joined Steve back at you realized you were only a hairs breadth away from not hating him.

Ask Me Anything

—-

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Javier Peña/Narcos: @pascalesque

#javier peña #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #narcos #javier peña fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #narcos x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #30 fics in 30 days

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

#clearly i'm very busy at work #yikes writes #egg the cat #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove