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#so sorry for how long this took maria!
mariatesstruther · 3 months
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okay hear me out modern au where Tommy and Maria first meet in a club in their 20s and they bump into each other while dancing and just start dancing together and they just hit it off but in the end they both forget to give each other their numbers so both of them go back to the same club the next week to hopefully meet each other again (also Tess and Maria definitely go clubbing together because I love them as best friends)
cowboy!!!! yes yes YES i LOVE this. and u could extend this meet-cute into like a whole thing where tommy and maria keep trying to meet at the club and exchange information, but something gets in the way everytime!!!! kid emergency!!! bar fight!!! cocaine bar on the loose!!! zombie apocalypse—who knows????
im thinking the first time, tess drags maria to a bar she likes because she’s been trying to get the attention of this hot dilfy guy at the bar, but he’s always tailing along with his friend. by tess’s design, maria and tommy meet and and hit it off and dance (to maria maria by santana) the night away. they fall in love and decide they want to go home together, so maria goes to the bathroom—but joel randomly comes up and is like “tommy, hey sorry selena’s mom called, sarah had a nightmare and she wants us both to pick her up, we gotta go” and in true miller dad-uncle panic they BOLT. by the time maria comes back, tess is like “idk dude, mine got a call so they had to go. seemed like an emergency. bummer” and they assume thats that
on the flip side: everythings okay with sarah, but after tommy and joel tuck her in tommy’s suddenly just like “fuck—fuck!!!!!” and joels like “what? what???” and he’s like “i didn’t get her number :(:(:(:( fuck” and so joel’s like “it’s okay, i see her friend there all the time” and so tommy’s like “omg :D do you have her friends number?” “well… no” “joel… what the fuck man.” so they make a plan to go back next week with the hopes of at least seeing tess and getting maria’s number from there—tommy also wants to get tess’s number for joel, but he doesn’t need to know that
little do THEY know, tess and maria are already plotting for next weekend. they show up to that bar looking fine as FUCK—they quite literally turn heads walking through the door. of course the miller brothers are there, sitting in a booth all the way in the back and waiting, making eyes. tess and maria are not shy, so they start making their way over. unfortunately, some drunk asshole decides to try to get handsy with tess on her way there—which results in her punching him in the face, which results in him trying to punch her in the face. she dodges, of course, but it starts a full-on bar brawl that the miller boys jump into without hesitation (joel manages to tackle and land a few good ones on og drunk asshole too so. slay.). none of them get arrested or anything, but they definitely don’t get eachother numbers on account of joel and tommy having to duck the cops
so i guess they gotta keep trying ;)
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rokurodokuro · 1 year
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Howdy, just dropping by to say I really like your SF OCs! I like the backstories you've given them, especially Maria's :^] I'm definitely curious, what would Judas and Maria be doing after the fall of Shadaloo?
Ah, thank you! Here's what I have for post-A Shadow Falls:
Judas tries to blend in with regular society to the best of his ability, even going so far as to get employment at a mom-and-pop convenience store. He tries his hardest to, y'know, not kill anyone, but sometimes... he slips up, or someone tries to get the drop on him to try to mug him. Sometime later, around the events of SF6, he's found by Maria, who invites him to see to Shadaloo's resurrection. Will update this when SF6 comes out.
Maria feels like her whole world has ended with Bison's death. She falls back on her previous career in marketing bioweapons, using the funds to travel the world in search of any remnants of Shadaloo to aid in her goal of resurrecting Bison. She finds Josef Urquhart, my friend's OC that acted as the therapist for Shadaloo and one of Bison's advisors, in her travels, and he advises her to learn to use her years of rage and grief to hone her strength. Inspired by footage of Urien, she picks up the art of pankration, and becomes a terrifying force when crossed. Her, Josef and F.A.N.G gather together and begin a project to return Shadaloo to its former glory. Also will update with SF6's release.
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softlyspector · 5 months
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Born lucky, under a bad star.
Summary: Joel has always been lucky, in the worst of ways.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Word count: ~13k (sorry)
Warnings: game!Joel, major spoilers for tlou part 2, angst with a happy ending, major injuries and recovery, anxiety, depression, relationship healing, mentions of death, mentions of violence, suicidal ideation
Disclaimers and A/N: Though this fic was based around some events in tlou part 2, almost all of the canon after the divergence from the canon timeline is thrown out. This fic is also based entirely around game events, characterization, and canon. This is honestly one of the most difficult things I've ever written. It took months and many many drafts, but I'm very proud of her. I hope you love her too, she was a labor of love.
As always, thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback!
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Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red. - Kait Rokowski.
The lights of the clinic are so bright they’re blinding.
Your hands are still shaking, covered in Joel’s blood. It’s been hours since you returned to the safety of Jackson’s walls but there’s still a frantic, frenetic energy in the air. Everyone is shaken. It feels a little like a thousand year old tree has been felled, like a giant has been swung at and leveled, like something monstrous and infallible has been brought to its knees. 
You’ve seen it happen before. Rebar right through his belly. It should have killed him. It would have killed anyone else. You’ve pulled more bullets out of Joel than you would care to count, and swaddled him in probably several football fields worth of bandages over the years.
Still, nothing like this.
Because Joel has always been lucky, even when he hadn’t wanted to be. 
Lucky, in all the worst ways. 
That fucking rebar, you think bitterly. It should have hit at least one organ, should have severed his fucking spine. But it didn’t. He walked it off, really, mostly, at the end of it all. 
This though — to see him tortured, beaten, bleeding to death slowly—
Your edge of your vision tips black, like your mind is already refusing to go back to that room, like you’ll pass out if you think of it for too long. 
A part of you wonders if maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you forgot to stick lavender in his pocket before he left that morning, like you always do.
Someone pushes the door open, snow swirls in against the tile. Voices, rising and falling. The cold that rolls through the tiny waiting room is frigid. 
It’s still so red, his blood, even dried and crusted around your fingers and up your wrists. 
Tommy is still bleeding and even Maria hasn’t been able to convince him to sit down and let someone look at him. No, all attention needs to be focused on his brother. Anyone with any medical know how, has to be with Joel. 
You agree. 
Tommy, you, anyone else—can fucking wait. 
Ellie is sitting next to you, looking just as numb and shocked as you feel, her fingers twined with Dina’s. 
The chatter reaches a crescendo. Something about the worsening storm, something about tracking folks with that big of a headstart through a storm like this one, something about the rapidly deepening darkness, night coming on, something about well who could do something like that anyway? Who the fuck would we even send? 
The quiet that follows is painful. 
Joel. 
Joel is the one you send. Joel is the one that could get a job like this one done, the one that could track people through a blizzard with a dogged determinism, with pragmatism and infallibility. 
“What did they want?” Someone asks the room at large. You aren’t sure who asks, you can’t make the shapes in the room resolve into people you know. “Why us? Why Joel? They wanted something right? Who were they?” 
You and Tommy look at each other, Ellie makes a half muffled, pained sound beside you. Joel crossed a lot of people, maybe there wasn’t any sense in guessing. 
No one answers. You look at your hands again and wonder if the crimson will ever fade.  
Someone says your name and you look up. A coat is tugged over your shoulders. You didn’t realize you were shivering and you don’t know what happened to your own coat. One of the patrolmen is looking at you, his name slips your memory but Jesse is standing behind him, Maria on the other side. 
You feel the ghost of Ellie’s hand against your arm. Odd, you think distantly, because she hates you. She has for a long time. 
“What happened?”
You look around, but Tommy isn’t where he’d been standing just a moment ago. Did they ask him, too? 
There’s a dark hole in your memory. 
“I don’t know.” 
And it’s the truth. 
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There’s no one more dedicated, more involved, in keeping Jackson safe, than Joel. 
Aside from Tommy, maybe.
Joel is an effective killer, like an executioner with a mission. It’s the thing that scared Tommy the most about his brother, and it’s also the thing that had kept him alive long enough to get his second chance in Jackson. It’s the thing you have always loved most about Joel, the violence born of necessity. 
And, you suppose, that’s what he’d been. Dispatcher, destroyer.  
Protector. 
At the heart of it all, the meat of it is, that it had always been that with Joel. It had always been in the name of protect, provide, survive. He never shied away from telling you of his days as a hunter, or, something close to a hunter. And even then, it was keep Tommy alive, it was survive until Boston, it was we needed fucking food. 
Survive and provide and protect. 
Joel. 
Jackson had been wary of him, at first. The stories of his dealings with infected and raiders alike at odds with the way he moved in the commune, with kindness and a certain gentleness, a competency and dependability, with something so soft in his gaze when it came to that little girl he arrived with. 
That reticence and worry had dissolved as quickly as it had come. 
They describe him as quiet and funny, because he’s prone to good natured teasing. They describe him as fierce and short to anger, because no one can say a word about him or his. They describe him as wonderfully dependable, ask Joel for something on a supply run and you would have it in short order; sigh about the state of something in your home and it would be taken care of, fixed, the very next day.
Jackson loves Joel.
Especially that softened up, gentle creature that had emerged in the wake of everything that had happened between Boston and Jackson. Joel had always had a soft interior, trotted out in brief glimpses over the years, but the shell he wore had been so thick and sharp it was near impenetrable, nearly unknowable. 
Ellie is around plenty in those first couple of weeks after. She even takes to sleeping on the living room couch. She doesn’t say much to you or Joel, hardly anything at all, but she’s there and you figure that’s what matters. It seems like she isn’t sure what to say, and desperate for the connection that nearly shattered. 
The first few days when Joel comes home from the clinic, someone knocks on the front door every couple of hours and you open it and have the same conversation over and over and over again. It’s always people worriedly asking after Joel’s wellbeing, dropping off food, expressing their anger that something like this could happen to one of their own, that it could happen to someone so widely and wildly beloved.
When the knocks finally stop coming, and you can convince Tommy to go home to Maria, before Maria has to walk over and collect her husband again, you take the stairs slowly up. 
You’re exhausted. You hardly sleep and when you do, you have nightmares of Joel. Formless, mind numbing dreams that you can never remember when you wake up gasping. You aren’t sure if Joel dreams of it, too. He’s always mumbled in his sleep, eyes flickering behind closed lids, so it’s hard to tell. 
And he hasn’t really been coherent enough, awake enough, to ask, anyway. 
“Hey,” Ellie says when you round the doorway into the bedroom, lowering the comic book in her hands. She’s beside Joel, sitting on your side of the bed, back against the headboard. “Sleeping again.” 
“Was he awake?” 
“A little. Drank some water.” 
Despite the tension of the last few years, you know she’s thinking of another time that Joel had slept a lot, injured and only half alive. 
Now isn’t like then, but in some ways, it’s worse. 
You nod and take a seat at the edge of the bed by her feet. “That’s good,” you reassure her. “It’s a good thing that he’s sleeping. He needs it.”
Ellie just holds up the comic in her lap and then jerks her chin at the box on the bedside table, Joel’s glasses and book about space pushed aside. “I, uh, found them in the study.” 
You shrug. “He always picked up any he found on supply runs.” You watch her from the corner of your eye and then shift your gaze to Joel. The slow rise and fall of his chest is reassuring in its steadiness, though you hate how still he is. 
The skin by his temple is puckered and red, the stitches a neat little row up to his hairline. It still looks raw as a live nerve, the swelling extending to his eye, purple and shadowed in a dark bruise that trails down his cheek and jaw. 
“He never said—” She stops and shakes her head. “So stupid.” 
“Well,” you scoot closer and pat her extended leg. “You didn’t exactly want to talk then. We tried giving them to you, once. Left them outside your door. They got a little rained on.” 
“Yeah,” she says, mouth twisting to the side. “Some of them are. . .can’t fucking peel the pages apart.” In that moment, she sounds like that little kid you left Boston with, being told not to touch something and doing it anyway.
That might have been when you fell in love with Ellie, watching her snap at Bill, and watching Joel react like any father would. It had come back to him so quickly, so naturally. 
There’s a long pause in which Ellie flips rapidly through the comic book and doesn’t say anything, her fingers nervous. She looks how you feel — exhausted. “Why don’t you go get some sleep in your own bed?” You ask, reaching out to twitch a fallen lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “You’re just across the yard. If anything happens, you’ll know.” 
She looks up at you, eyes flicking over your face. “I was fucking mad at you too, you know,” she whispers suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You drop your hand and shake your head before looking back at Joel. He sleeps deeply now, deeper than you thought possible for someone like him, even drugged and injured. 
There’s a knot tangled in your chest, that only tightens further with her question. “It wasn’t my place. He didn’t. . .he didn’t say anything to me about it for a long time, either. Wouldn’t explain what happened while we were separated. He told me the same lie. And you were going to be mad at me, too, no matter what. It had to be between the two of you.” 
“And you think he was right,” she accuses hotly. 
“And,” you level your eyes to hers, “I think he was right.” You dip your head. “I wouldn’t change anything, Ellie. I wouldn’t. You know Joel wouldn’t either. You matter more than that.”
Her bottom lip trembles for just a second. “Even knowing this happens?!” She gestures around the room, maybe just the situation at large. 
Some of the tension knotting up your shoulders bleeds away. “He’s still here. It’s not too late.” She glances away and sucks in a harsh breath. You wait until she meets your eyes again. “And Ellie, it is not your fault. It’s not. None of it.” 
“It almost was.” Her voice is strained. “Too late.”
You shrug. “He knows you care. Trust me, he does.” 
She scrubs roughly at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie. “Yeah, uh, well, I’m still gonna sleep on the couch.” 
“Why don’t you just stay right here, then? With Joel?” You ask and stand. “I’ll take the couch tonight.” 
It is the ultimate admission of how scared she is, that she does not argue, doesn’t even try to.  
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For the first few weeks after the attack, Joel is in and out of consciousness. He sleeps much more than he’s awake.
And, it’s hard to tell, at first, why he’s sleeping so much. The pain medicine? That carefully doled out, nearly impossible to come by miracle drug — was it just knocking him out? Was he just sleeping because that’s what his body needed? Or, was it something deeper? Brain damage? 
“He’s fucking. . .old!” Ellie says to you one morning around a mouthful of toast. It’s kind of odd, how easily she’s taken to old routines. And how weird the old routine is, because the third piece of your puzzle is missing, sleeping. “Old people take longer to heal, right?” 
Right. 
But he’s also Joel. And he isn’t that old. 
It feels wrong, that he’s so still and silent. 
“It’s not—” Her fist opens and closes. She sets down the toast in her other hand on the plate and turns, pacing the length of Joel’s kitchen, fidgeting with her fingers as she goes, white morning light slatting over her. You eye the toast. It’s hard to get her to eat, these days but you figure most of one piece is better than nothing. “His leg. It’s not infected or something, right? We’d know if it was.” 
“It’s not infected,” you agree. When your own hands start to shake, you set down your mug, afraid to drop it or spill hot tea all over the floor, and make Ellie even more anxious in the process. 
You don’t like to talk about it. You don’t like to think about it. The memories are like a hot brand. 
The staircase creaks with the heavy thud of footsteps, before Tommy appears in the kitchen archway. You’ve always thought Tommy and Joel resembled each other, but now you see similarities in the kinds of expressions they make, too, the quirks in their movements that only siblings could share, and Tommy is sometimes a little hard to look at. 
“Heading out?” 
“Yeah, he’s, uh, sleepin’ again.” He leans against the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest.
Ellie doesn’t say anything, just slips past Tommy and heads up the steps. Tommy looks after her and then back at you. “She won’t say it but she doesn’t like leaving him alone,” you explain. 
Tommy nods and then pushes away from the door to settle at the kitchen table. “Well, I don’t like the idea of it either. Good she’s with him.” He tips the chair onto its back legs and tilts his head. “How ya holdin’ up?” 
“Probably about as good as you are.” 
He huffs a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Maria told me you want off partols.” 
You swallow and look away from him as you take the seat across from him at the table. “I - I know we’re down people already but I can’t. . .Tommy I can’t even look at the goddamn gate without feeling like—” You shake your head. “I just don’t think I can do it. I’d get somebody killed.” 
“All right,” he says, not unkindly. “We’ll figure it out. It’s okay.” 
A burn starts at the back of your eyes so you stand again and swipe your fingers against your cheeks. “You want coffee before you head out?” 
“Nah, save that for Joel.” Then, “How you think this is gonna go? When he’s awake more?”
“I don’t know. You’d know better than me.” 
Tommy laughs. The chair scrapes against the linoleum as he stands. He looks tired, and worried. It’s an odd look on him. It isn’t like Tommy at all. You and Tommy have always bonded over teasing Joel. There’s none of that now. 
“Like hell. You’ve spent the last fifteen years with him, not me.” 
“He’s your brother.” 
“And you’re the love of his damn life.” He pauses and leans on the counter next to you. 
That makes your mouth twitch, the pleasantly warm feeling in your chest consumed in the next second by a lancing pain that can only be an approximation of grief for someone and something that still breathed. 
“I just can’t help worryin’,” he continues. “This might be enough for us, but not for him. If Joel can’t ever do anything again—”
“He just needs time, Tommy,” you cut him off quickly. Not able to stomach the thought. “We’ll figure it out. He’ll figure it out,” you say with more conviction than you feel. “We can probably figure something like a prosthetic out. People have been making them for thousands of years. We can do it. It’ll be fine. But it’s going to be different.”
Tommy’s right. You’ve spent the last fifteen years with Joel. You aren’t sure who you are without him anymore. You aren’t sure you know how to get along without him anymore. And you never want to have to find out. “He’s alive,” you finish with a nod. “Everything else, we can figure out.” 
He nods. “You think we shoulda went after ‘em?”
“Maybe. But this is more important.” 
Before he goes, Tommy wraps you in a hug. “So long as you and that girl stick around, it’ll be all right.”
“Ellie’s been playing the guitar up there,” you answer. 
He nods and pulls back, one big hand clapping down on your shoulder. “See? Things might be all right yet. Always told Joel she’d come around eventually.” He releases you and heads toward the door then. “And get some sleep. Y’look terrible,” he calls over his shoulder. “Orders from Maria.” 
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For the first time in weeks, Joel wakes with some semblance of clarity. The bedroom is warm and dark, the tiniest pool of light washing over the form next to him from a little light plugged into the wall.
It’s the nightlight he found for Ellie when they first got to Jackson and her nightmares gave her more grief than she cared to admit to. 
His whole body aches. He feels sick. 
The sharpness of the pain is disorienting. He’s only been awake in brief, muddled flashes, the dulled fingers of drugged pain lancing through him and consuming most of his thoughts. He’d only been awake long enough to eat or drink or be helped to the bathroom like some kind of damn—
He remembers Tommy at his bedside. He hears the ghost notes of music in the air, your voice in his ear, the gentle slide of warm fingers over his skin. He remembers Ellie reading aloud, curled on her side next to him, like she used to do when she was younger, like when they’d stop for the night on the road.
That can’t be right, though. She hasn’t done that in years. She wouldn’t do something like that. Not anymore. 
You’re next to him now, face tilted against the edge of his pillow. It’s hard to make you out in the dark, the shape and slope of your features hidden in the dim light. 
When he says your name, you twitch, the slightest wrinkle to your nose, the tiniest spasm of your fingers against the sheets. “Darlin’,” he tries again. His voice grinds, catches and snags around his teeth. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in years. 
He reaches for you and it’s agony, because his shoulder must be broken. His ribs contract painfully right, like the shrapnel of the bone is digging up into his lungs, piercing his heart. But your skin is soft and warm, pliant, beneath his fingers. It smells like you’ve been burning sage again. He wants to burrow his fingers beneath your skin, you’re so warm. 
The cut of your cheekbones are sharper, the angle of your jaw reminds him of winter in the QZ, winter traveling with you and Ellie. Discolored circles line the space beneath your eyes like little hollows. You look exhausted, wan. 
You blink, slowly at first, then more rapidly. “Joel?” Your voice is a whisper, like the dark is stealing it away. 
Your fingers slide through the backs of his against your cheek when you shift closer, so careful about it, until you’re pressed to his side. “Joel,” you repeat, eyes sliding shut, forehead against the edge of his sore jaw.
He breathes you in, the warm scent of your skin, the smells of hearth and home, lavender and sage and woodsmoke. He closes his eyes for just a second when you shift up and tilt your forehead against his, breath whispering against his chin. “Joel.” 
“You all right?” His voice still sounds rocky but clearing it doesn’t seem to help any.
Slowly, you sit up, hand still in his when you pull it away from your face. “You’re asking me that? You’re kidding, Joel,” your voice creaks. You’ve never really been a crier, but there’s a thickness in your mouth, softening out the vowels and snapping at the consonants. “Are you - We didn’t want you to be in pain. But you’ve been sleeping for so long, we gave you a lower dose so that—” 
“I feel okay,” he interrupts your fretting, sweeping his thumb against the back of your hand. “Considerin’.” 
You swallow and nod. “Hungry?” You glance at the window, where a gray, pale morning light is starting to leech into the room, the color of dirty snow. 
“Yep.” He wishes you’d keep your eyes on him. “If you’ve got somethin’ ready.” 
“We have anything you want,” you assure him. “Anything.” 
Joel nods and attempts to push himself up next to you, chest and shoulder aching something awful. He bites back a groan but it still pushes past his teeth.
“Careful,” you say sharply. Before he can protest, you’re up and around the bed, one hand behind his back. “Your shoulder is broken in a million places.” 
“A million?” He grunts. 
“Three.” 
“That ain’t a million.” 
You don’t laugh and your hand doesn’t move from his back. “And broken ribs. Now lean back.” He does as you ask, real careful about it so you don’t worry.
An odd feeling creeps up inside his chest, dulled by the lighter dose of pain medicine coursing through his veins. It ain’t just a sick feeling, but something else. A helplessness, maybe. It feels wrong, in more ways than one. 
Joel becomes acutely aware of what he already knows, every single injury, the graveness of them. He knows about the broken shoulder and ribs that had to be reset, torn skin that had to be stitched together, that he has internal bruising but by some miracle no internal bleeding. His face throbs suddenly, his temple tight with pain. He feels his heartbeat behind his eye and in the swelling in his cheek. 
And, the worst of it, leg amputated to just above the knee. Sick crawls up the back of his throat. He doesn’t dare look. 
The feeling in his chest swells until it chokes him. 
Helpless, useless — something hard and fanged digs into his mind. It feels like grief, but what is he supposed to be mourning, exactly? 
Everything, maybe. 
His whole damn life. 
“I’m fine,” he grunts suddenly. Sharply. “Quit fussin’.”  
He feels like fucking crying. 
“Just - shut up, Joel,” you snap back. “You almost fucking died.” 
A fist curls around his throat, warm and tight. He almost can’t breathe through it. “Yeah,” he croaks, voice breaking the word in two.  
“Yeah,” you snarl. “So shut up and let me fuss.” 
You turn and leave before he can say anything else, footsteps rapidly descending the stairs. Voices trundle up, creased and folded, rising but muffled. You’ve always been mean when you got scared, ever since Joel can remember. You were mean as hell when he first met you, a hissing kind of frustrated, new to the QZ and new to trying your hand at smuggling. 
You’ve softened up over the years. He hasn’t seen you like this in a long time, maybe not since you got separated in Salt Lake City. 
More footsteps, this time heavy, stomping, coming upwards. 
Ellie appears in the doorway a second later. Her hair is messy; her eyes are wild. She’s in sweatpants and a shirt that’s too big for her. She looks tired but unharmed. The knot tangled up around his lungs eases just a little. “Hey, kiddo.” He tries not to sound surprised. 
Her eyes flick over him and then away. She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t leave either. Instead she picks up a book from the corner of the dresser and settles in the chair across the room. 
A firm but unyielding presence. 
He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the wall, and tries to push down the feeling of failure rising in his throat like a tide. 
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Joel’s fingers are clumsy. 
He can’t walk, can’t work, can’t do much of anything without irritating every ligament and tendon and bone in his body. 
But even worse than that, he can’t remember how to play the guitar. 
And nothing makes him feel so helpless as that. 
Even after not playing for twenty odd years, the notes and the placement of his fingers on the strings and frets had come back easily to him, almost like he’d never stopped playing at all. 
Now, it doesn’t. 
In part his shoulder is to blame. Even nearly healed, it’s stiff. But the other part of it is that he can’t remember how to play. Every note seems wrong, and he can’t decide if he’s hearing it wrong, if there’s something wrong with his hearing, his perception, or if the note really is just wrong. 
Ellie plays for him, instead. 
It’s easier than talking. Neither of them are really good at that, anyway. He’s just glad she’s around at all. 
He can’t help but think of that last conversation he’d had with her on the back porch, that she wants to try to forgive him, even if she thinks she might never be able to. He supposes this is her way of trying her hand at that.
Sometimes he wonders if it would be like this if he hadn’t almost died, if he wasn’t collecting sympathy from everyone like there was some kind of shortage. Maybe that conversation on the porch would have meant nothing, otherwise. 
The thought hurts him, no matter how glad he is that she’s there. 
One evening, pretty late, as snow peppers down through the early winter black that curtains the window, she stops playing. 
The living room is quiet, aside from their breathing and the crackle of flames in the fireplace. 
“I was going to invite you over to watch a movie.” 
The metallic twang of the last note she plucked hangs in the air. 
“I was - I was going to fucking ask you to watch a movie with me. That night. One of those dumb action movies you like. Like the ones we used to watch, remember? Curtis and Viper 2.”
She doesn’t look at him. She stares at her fingers, idly, nervously, twisting the tuning pegs of the guitar. “Think I saw that one before,” he answers, voice a little choked. “Pretty good.” 
Ellie rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Yeah, you would think so, old man,” she replies eventually but still doesn’t look up, her mouth twisting to the side. “I just - don’t want you to think I’m only here because you—” She shakes her head, and props the guitar against the wall before she stands and paces the room twice, toying with her fingers in that way she always has. “I never wanted anything bad to happen to you. Even when I was really mad.”
“Ellie,” he says but she doesn’t seem to hear him. “I know.” 
“Anyway, I meant what I said.”
“Ellie.”
“I wanted things to get better. I wanted to try. I was going to.” 
“Ellie.” 
She spins suddenly toward the front door, one hand on the back of her neck, rubbing awkwardly. “I gotta get going.” 
“Kiddo.” This time she turns and finally looks at him. The scent of pine and smoke fills the room. The red of the flames flash across her face, so serious and anxious. 
When they first came to Jackson, they spent a lot of nights on the couch together. His neck always ached the next morning from sleeping upright but he’d never complain about it. Then the distance between them had grown, and he doesn’t know when the last time something like that had happened. 
But that same distance is slowly shrinking now, even if things might never, never be the same again. 
So many times when he looks at her, he still sees that fourteen year old kid. He’d had the same problem with Sarah, looking at his twelve year old and seeing her at five and eight. It was just how it went, being a parent. 
“I know, Ellie,” he reassures her. “I do. It’s all right. Even if you didn’t mean a word of it, it’s all right. I meant what I said, too.”  
And even though she said she needed to leave, she nods and sits down again. She plucks a few notes out on the guitar when she pulls it back into her lap. 
“D'ya still wanna watch it?”
She does. 
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Joel is whittling.
It is decidedly not going well. 
He’s too distracted for it. He never realized how much pressure settled on his shoulder, how much it pulled at the muscle around his ribs, from doing something as simple as this, and he doesn’t like the nausea that comes with the pain. 
But it’s something he can do, so he does it. 
It’s snowing outside again, wind raking against the siding, rattling the window panes. There’s a thin stream of air coming in around the window’s frame, cold. 
His hands are chapped and raw, blood pooling at the seams of his knuckles. 
The fix would be easy enough, but everything he needs to do it is in the basement. And the basement is a near impossible location for him to reach, so he puts up with it, hands growing more frustrated by the second because he wants to fucking fix it. 
You use the office, his work space, often enough, and it’s one thing for him to be cold and uncomfortable, but another thing entirely for you to feel that way. 
But he can’t make it down to the living room without help these days, let alone down two flights of stairs to the basement, and then back up them, too.
“Joel?”
He glances over his shoulder to find you standing in the doorway. You have a pair of shears in your hands. 
“Still want me to cut your hair?”
He wants to do it himself. But you’d offered earlier, because you’ve been doing it for him for a long time, for years and years now. And he’d always liked it because your hands are kind with it and you’re better at doing it, anyway. But now it just feels like one more thing he can’t do for himself, one more thing he’s relying on someone else for, and that makes guilt and shame choke him. 
Joel can’t seem to do a damn thing, not for himself, but, worse, not for anyone else either. 
“Joel?” You ask again when the silence stretches until it’s uncomfortable. “I don’t have to; you can do it yourself.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s all right, darlin’.” You start forward when he labors up from the chair, teeth gritted, but quickly stop when he meets your eyes, warning you away with a glance. 
You don’t say anything else, just back out the door and pad down the hall to the bathroom. 
He isn’t sure if your feelings are hurt or not, all his focus directed on hauling himself upwards and then limping down the hall with one crutch under his arm. Feeble threads of pain lance up his leg, centering in his joints, the hinge of his knee. The space under his arm is sore too, from the crutch, even wrapped in cloth. 
Joel is used to pain. He’s used to temporary aches, the sharp stab of healing wounds, the quick rip of a bullet or knife through skin, chronic pains from age and long healed injuries. On cold days, his side aches something fierce, like that rebar never really came out of him. 
But this pain is different, without origin, and he’s having a hard time adjusting to it. Or maybe he’s just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that this is not a healable injury, at least, not in the way he wants it to be. 
For the rest of his life, he will be disabled. He’ll never get back to himself, never be what he once was. 
The bathroom light is gold. It washes his skin into a better color, not so pale and strained and pained looking. 
He hates looking in the mirror now. Joel never considered himself particularly good looking, never thought about it much, really. And, for most of his life, looks haven’t really mattered anyway. 
But seeing his reflection now is a reminder of his failures. It’s a reminder of everything he can’t do.
His whole body is nothing but reminders. 
He is a patchwork quilt of scars. 
He doesn’t know how you can stand to look at him. But you just brush your hands through his hair when he leans the crutch against the counter and sits heavily on the stool you dragged upstairs. 
The bathroom is thick with the scent of lavender and earth. Every winter it turns into a makeshift greenhouse, all the plants that can’t survive the winter dragged inside for the season. 
The feeling of your hands through his hair is soothing and the tension in his shoulders slides away. 
“I can do it myself,” he grumbles, despite himself, and without conviction when you run a comb through his hair. 
You hum under your breath, not really paying him any mind. You know he doesn’t really mean it. Even if he feels like a fucking burden for it, it’s something you’ve always done for him, so it’s a little easier for him to accept. “I know. I like to.” You tilt his chin up and Joel steadfastly avoids looking in the mirror. “Besides, I’m better at it. You take to it like it’s a hack job.”
The trim doesn’t take long, since he keeps his hair longer anyway. It’s mostly an excuse for you to rake your fingers through his hair. 
“The window needs fixin’,” he says when you slide in front of him and set about trimming his beard without asking. That’s fine, too. “I know you been, uh, kinda cold in that room.” 
“It’s not so bad,” you say when you finish with him, brushing your fingers against his cheeks and then through his hair. You smile, eyes crossing his face, tracing his features like a well known map, before you twitch a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You gonna fix it for me or what?” 
“Mighty big ask of ya,” he grouses, irritation itching at the edge of his mind. 
You’re still smiling faintly, touching his face, the curl of hair behind his ear, the scar along his hairline and then the one over his nose. 
“I just can’t see how,” you say and Joel almost snaps. He wants to. He wants to say you don’t fucking get it, that you don’t want to get it, that it’s different now. He wants to say he’s not the man you’ve always known, that shit ain’t as easy as it’s always been. He can’t do shit for you, anymore, and isn’t that the reason you’ve stuck around all these years? 
But then you continue. “I left that damn caulking gun on the side table three days ago.” 
“You what?” 
You shrug. “Thought you might have noticed it too. And I’ve always been so bad at that stuff.” 
The guilt that settles in him is heavy, but familiar. The shape of it is different, but it's still like shrugging on an old coat, it’s so natural and intimate.
He must be destined for some kind of failure, born under a bad star, something.
Everything he touches falls apart, no matter what he does. Everyone he holds dear, leaves him, one way or another, somehow. His mama, Sarah, and then Tommy, and then Tess. Most recently Ellie, though maybe things there were being mended. Maybe you were next, soon as you came to your senses. 
Joel has spent most of his life taking care of people. And when he wasn’t taking care of people, he was moving, working. He hardly ever sat still. He didn’t have time to sit still. 
Not before the outbreak, and certainly not after. 
Even in Jackson where the pace of the world is slower, he was always busy. If he wasn’t on patrol, he was on wall duty, looking after Jackson’s security. Or, he was fixing something for someone, building something, helping with the horses. If he wasn’t doing any of that, he was improving his house, he was working on a new carving, he was playing the guitar.  
Healing up, it’s involved a whole lot of sitting still and feeling useless. It had involved a lot of other people fussing over him. 
A lot of sitting still and feeling like he was failing everyone he knew. Like he had already failed everyone he knew. For all the effort he put into it, it would never be enough. He cares wrong, he loves wrong, and now he can’t even do that. 
He fails you in this, too. Of wishing he could accuse you of all the things he thinks of himself. 
Joel knows you think of it too, you just haven’t gotten frustrated enough with him to say it yet. You haven’t had the full weight of his broken, uselessness on you, yet. 
That day will come. There’s no way it won’t, because he can’t do for you what he’s always done, what he was put on this god forsaken earth to do. The one thing he’s always been able to do. Not just for you, but for everyone. Ellie, Tommy and his family, Jackson at large. 
It’s always been the thing he could point to and say look, this is why I am like this, this is why you need me, why I’m around. You survived because of me. Because I made sure you did. 
So he’s not worth much now, really, and all the promises he made you and all the promises he made to himself, he can’t keep them anymore. And isn’t that why you stuck by him all these years? Despite all his shortcomings? 
“Sorry, darlin’,” he cups your face in his hands, smoothes his thumbs over your cheeks, the hinge of your jaw. “I’ll get right on fixin’ that for you.” 
“I know you will. Thank you, Joel.” The full weight of your head tips into his hands, and your eyes slide shut. His hands are large against your jaw, scarred and calloused, harsh. Reminders, maybe, of what he used to be. He looks at the hollows beneath your eyes, the raw, worried skin of your bottom lip. 
You don’t sleep anymore and when you do you have nightmares. You hate to leave the house. And sometimes you flinch even when nothing is happening around you, like memories are snapping at your heels. 
He did all that to you, too. Terrible gifts he’s given and can’t take back.
When he glances back up to your eyes, you’re staring at him, a worried, anxious kind of look lodged there that he absolutely hates. 
“What?” He asks, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks and then the delicate hinge of your jaw.
“Nothing.” Your eyes shift away from his, and you twitch in his grasp. He already knows what you’re about to say, because you’ve never gotten better at saying it, just like him. He doesn’t need you to say it, but you do anyway, and he hates how much he likes hearing it. It’s like a ray of golden sun. “I love you, Joel,” you murmur and hook your hands around his wrists.  
For a long time, you just look at him, the silence is heavy with unsaid words, but he isn’t sure which of you is the one not saying something. “That enough?” He eventually grunts. “For you?”
You frown. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you think it’s not?” 
It shouldn’t be. All those promises stack up in his mind again, everything he can’t keep.  
“It shouldn’t be.” 
You pull his hands away from your face with a shake of your head and lean in to kiss him. Your lips part softly against his, the hitch of your breath sweet against his mouth. The heat of you is so close and intoxicating, it’s something he never wants to have to give up, not when your thumbs are pressed to the pulse in his wrists, and not when you taste like apple, honey. 
He shakes one of your hands away to wrap his arm around your back and pull you closer, until the warmth of your body is pressed securely to his chest. Your tongue slides against his, teeth nipping gently at his bottom lip. Something warm floods his cheeks and his chest goes tight. 
When you pull back, you tug on a piece of his hair then touch the blush pinking on his face. “You look real handsome, Texas.”  
He tucks his forehead against your collarbone, and you fold your hands against the back of his head. “It’s enough,” you say. “Always has been.” 
The next day, he finds that most of his tools have been relocated upstairs, either to one of the cabinets in the living room, or to the office upstairs. 
Either way, he no longer has to traverse two staircases down and back up. 
He isn’t sure when you had the time to do it, or why he didn’t at least hear you doing it. 
Joel’s chest swells with love for you, right alongside the guilt that does nothing but grow. 
He fixes the window. 
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Some days are easier than others.
He has good days and bad, and some of the bad days are worse than others. He sows the feelings up inside himself, cocoons the bad away inside his chest. It’s easier that way. And it’s necessary now. It’s just another thing you’d have to deal with. 
He’s never been good at saying the things that needed said, anyway. 
He tries not to snap at you. He’s trying not to get mean, and he can’t just walk away like he used to be able to when his mind got messy. But he’s been failing because he wants you to fight with him, wants you to hate him. 
Joel wants you to say that he fucking failed, that he’s been failing his whole life at the one thing he was supposed to be able to do. The one thing he’s really good for. 
“Stop it,” Joel snarls one day in the spring, when you offer your hand down the steps to the living room. 
He doesn’t mean to snap at you like that, but he doesn’t take it back either. He’s in too much pain. And he doesn’t want to admit it. 
The smile slips off your face as you step back from him, a stoney expression sliding over your face instead. It’s routine, you helping him, and maybe that’s the problem. He grits his teeth, that look reminds him of Boston, reminds him of the time before you used to trust each other. 
“I ain’t helpless.” 
You raise your hands and take another step back, looking away from him as you do. 
The breeze that comes in the landing’s open window is cool. It isn’t quite warm enough for the window to be open but the house needs airing out after such a long winter, such a hard winter. The air is crisp with the scent of pine and the lavender hung in dried clumps above each doorway. 
“I know, Joel.”
When he looks at you, you visibly brace yourself. 
A wave of self-hatred so hot it burns immediately follows the guilt. But it also doesn’t stop the angry, frustrated pulse beneath the surface of his skin, pressing against the back of his teeth. 
“I don’t know why you didn’t just leave me there.” The words are bitter, poisonous. Accusatory. “You should have left me to fuckin’ die.”  
Whatever you might be expecting him to say, it isn’t that. Your breath catches hard. 
You can be cruel, too. He waits for your anger, the burn of words he deserves to hear, something mean and hateful but true. 
But the words don’t come; your anger doesn’t come. You just look tired and empty, sad. 
You pace the landing, the soft shush of your footsteps echoed by the creaking of the floorboards. Your silence pricks at him. He wants you to scream at him, blame him, for failing, for being so fucking stupid. 
“What if it was me?” 
Your voice is so low, he almost doesn’t catch your words. 
The quiet of your footsteps come to a halt. “What if it had been me, Joel? It could have been. It could have easily been me. They knew who you were. We’ve done a lot of the same shit. We’ve made a lot of the same enemies over the years.” 
Your hands are shaking, your breath comes in quick little pants. The acrid, bone aching feeling of cresting anxiety and panic floods the little landing. “Me and you and Tess, we were kind of a package fucking deal. So, what if it was me?” 
The breeze sliding through the open window feels different now. Colder, older, more brutal. 
“That’s fuckin’ different and y’know it,” he snarls. 
“Why?” Anger floods your face, the curl of your fingers harsh against your arms when you cross them. “Why would that have been different? Because you think I always need to be taken care of?” 
He doesn’t answer. He looks away from you, but he can’t go anywhere. He’s at your mercy and you both hate it.
Joel leans heavily against the wall, his right hand curling around his left wrist, a nervous, anxious tick he’s never been able to shake. 
“Tell me,” you beg. “Say it, Joel. How is it different? Why?” 
He shakes his head once, slowly, and doesn’t look up at you. “You can say it,” you continue, your voice eerily quiet. “You never trusted me to have your back.”
That ain’t it at all. 
It’s not your failure. It’s his, in every single way. He doesn’t blame you or Tommy or Ellie or anyone else. He doesn’t believe for a second that you don’t know that. 
It would have been better, probably, if he died. 
He doesn’t understand the guilt you feel. 
He can’t take care of you anymore, can’t protect you anymore. 
Worse, he can’t do that for his kid. 
If he’d died, maybe that final sacrifice would have been enough to make up for everything else. Maybe it would all just be done.
He’s the one breaking promises, not you, just like he always has been. 
Sometimes, when he thinks of Sarah, he can only remember her final moments. He can’t think of anything else but her blood, how red it was in the dark. He can’t think of anything else than what could have been. He can only see the halo of that mounted flashlight glaring into his eyes, his own voice pleading. Please don’t. 
If he’d just been shot, he would have died first, he wouldn’t have ever known how bad he failed in that moment. He would have died first, like a parent was supposed to. No good father should ever outlive his kid.
Maybe, this had been his second chance, to finally die first. 
Born lucky, bad star, like always. 
So, what would he do, if it had been you? He’d have taken care of you, just like you’re doing for him. But that is not anathema to him; that is just how things are supposed to go. It wouldn’t have been a failure. 
He’s no use to you anymore, no use to anyone.
He doesn’t say any of that. 
Instead, he nods. 
“You’re right.” He shrugs and pain splinters across his shoulders. “It would have been different.” 
Your expression flickers blank and you turn away. It would have been easier to stomach if you screamed at him, if you slammed a door. 
But you’re just quiet. 
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Once, during the late autumn, when you were traveling with Joel and Ellie, you noticed Joel wasn’t eating. 
Food was in short supply. None of the houses or buildings you looted turned up anything edible, and wild game had been elusive for weeks as the weather turned wetter and chillier. 
You’d noticed him doing it a few times before, but nothing like then. Joel would dole out carefully rationed food and not allocate any to himself. The bags under his eyes deepened. His temper was shorter. He’d gotten pale and hollows appeared in his cheeks that meant he hadn’t been getting enough. Joel had always been huge, broad and strong and tall, with thick arms and thighs, but when he dropped weight, it always showed in those little hollows first.
Then, one evening, after clearing out a barn of infected, he’d stumbled, hand to his forehead, pale as you’d ever seen him. “Christ,” he’d mumbled. 
“Joel?” Ellie’s voice had pitched up with worry. She’d looked at you, and said, “He hasn’t been eating.” The words were all a rush, accusatory and begging for you to do something. 
“Ellie—” He’d growled. 
“I know she’s right, Joel,” You’d interrupted with a snap. “You think we wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t notice?”
He’d gotten pissed off and marched off into the woods to the stream to refill your canteens. You’d given him a wide berth for several hours, making the newly cleared barn into something livable for the night with Ellie. When dark had started to set in you went after him, boots crunching through frozen leaves.
He’d been sitting by the creek bed, an inscrutable expression on his face. “We ain’t got enough,” he’d said, not looking at you. “You and Ellie need it more. I’m fine.” 
“But you're not. You can’t just not eat. You can’t take care of us if you aren’t okay, Joel.” 
The air had smelled like earth and decaying leaves and stagnant water and ice. The scent reminded you of better times, of apple cider and cinnamon and new beginnings, of autumn fairs and coffee shops. 
You’d sat behind him, pulled him against you for just a moment, chin on his shoulder, and said, “It’s all right to let me look after you, too.” 
You figure that even with the change in circumstances, things are still like that with Joel. He’s always doing the metaphorical equivalent of making sure everyone else eats first, even if it means he’s starving.
He’s never been one to give up or give in or let go. When Tess was bitten, Joel hadn’t wanted to leave her. He’d wanted to stay and fight. To fight a useless and unwinnable fight. That mindset was never going to fade.
You don’t speak for a few days. Guilt swallows the whole of your heart and leaves you dry and empty. Joel blames you, you think, even if he won’t say it. 
He comes to you late one night. 
It’s dark and the bedroom is overly warm. He sits heavily but without help at the edge of the bed. He’s getting better at that, even if he doesn’t think he is. 
His hair is longer and it falls into his face when he leans over you, fingers against your forehead and temple and then your cheek. 
“When I was real young,” he says. “My dad died. We didn’t have much money and my mama worked all the time.” 
You turn on your back and try to make his face out but his expression is unreadable. 
Joel hardly ever talks about his folks. 
“I got my first job when I was fourteen, to help with the bills. Money was better on account of half of it not bein’ drank away, but we still needed the cash.” Joel pauses and you scoot over. It takes a minute for him to find a comfortable position with you but when he does, he continues. His voice echoes against your ear, the beat of his heart pounds against your cheek. His chin rubs against your forehead, one large hand splayed across your shoulders. 
“Since she worked so much, I was always takin’ care of Tommy, of damn near everything else. And my mama, too, sometimes.” He swallows, and you feel the bob of his throat against your forehead. His chest is warm beneath your cheek, even through the two layers he always wears. “So I knew I was young when Sarah came along, but I didn’t really feel it. I took care of her and her mother, ‘til she went her own way. Just the way I always had.” 
The rise and fall of his chest is steady. He cups his free hand around yours and tucks your palm against his heart. 
“I know I’m not easy, in any sense of the word. I never have been.” A heavy tug of shame weighs his voice down. “Too mean and bitter, I guess.” There’s a long pause, and you want to protest but you’re sure if you interrupt, Joel won’t finish saying whatever it is he needs to. 
“So anyway,” he continues. “I try to make up for it. By doin’ what I always have, even if it means I end up alone. I wouldn’t change anything. I don’t know what I’m good for if—” His hand slides up your spine, thick fingers resting at the base of your neck. “And I can’t do it anymore. Can’t take care of ya. So, it woulda been different, if it had been you. Because it’s you we’re talkin’ about.” 
Joel goes quiet after that. His palm continues its nervous path over your spine. The bristles of his beard are soft against your temple. The rhythm of his breathing is still slow and even, but you feel the prickle of nerves in the way he touches you. 
It isn’t easy for Joel to say the things he feels, even to you, even all these years later. 
His body is so familiar to you, so warm and strong beneath you. Comfort, in short, in its purest form. 
You aren’t expecting him to say any more, but he does. “Things. . .they always have a way of fallin’ apart, in the end.” 
When you lift your head, he doesn’t look at you. You press a finger against the edge of his jaw, turning his head gently until his eyes meet yours. “Joel,” you touch your forehead to his. You aren’t good with words either, but you try. “You are more than that. More than what you can do for people.”
He’s quiet for a long time, eyes fluttering closed, his breath a calm pool against your mouth. “And I’m more than that? To you?” 
“Joel, if I only wanted some guard dog, I would have gotten one that could listen better.” 
He snorts, and a little of the tension melts away. “Yeah, I reckon you would have.” 
The dark is a warm cocoon of things less easily said in the light.
“Yes,” you say quietly after a long, peaceful silence. “Joel. You’re so much more to me than that.”
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It’s late spring again. The Wyoming air is mild, and heavy with the scent of blooming life. 
Sage grows in dense clumps up in the mountains, deep between the ridges of the sharp peaks. The smell of it, earthy and crisp, chases itself on the breeze, all the way down to Jackson. It twines with the smell of flowers painstakingly planted along his front path. 
Arrowleaf. Goldenrod. 
Lavender, right by the mailbox, courtesy of some superstition held onto from before the outbreak. 
It’s thick, cloying, pungent. 
It’s overripe, rotting. It smells like death. 
It’s making Joel fucking nauseous. 
He squeezes your arm, a warning without words that he needs a break. 
It’s the smell. 
It’s the sun and the gentle breeze. 
He tells himself the sick, crawling pain mixing sourly in his stomach has nothing at all to do with his newly fitted prosthetic leg. 
Slowly, without a word, you turn and guide him back through his familiar backyard to the porch. 
He sits heavily on the steps, just inside the cool pool of shade, and pulls in deep breaths that rattle in his lungs and do nothing to stave off the dizziness, or the pain. 
Your hand slides up and down his back before your palm settles against the back of his neck and urges his head down between his knees. 
Joel feels like a fucking kid. His hands are shaking. 
“Damn thing is useless,” he growls after a minute when the nausea passes and he can lift his head, because it’s the only thing he can do, because it’s goddamn humiliating. 
Everything is, these days. 
You just bump your shoulder into his and hum low under your breath, used to his attitude, used to his bark that only sometimes has a bite. 
You’re patient with him, but tough, not willing to indulge his foul moods. “It’s just something you have to get used to,” you assure him. “It’s not going to be like before.” 
Joel doesn’t want to admit that he wants to take the prosthetic off. It’s like admitting defeat before he’s even gotten a chance to fight. 
And he’s tired. 
Exhausted, really. 
“Hey,” you dig your nails into his wrist. He meets your eyes, pragmatic, practical, his match in everything. “We aren’t supposed to go at it so hard anyway, remember? You did really well.” 
He doesn’t want to admit that, either, that your praise washes pink in his veins, that he likes to hear it, thrives on it. If he’s doing right by you, good in your eyes, things can’t be awful as they might seem. 
That’s what he latches onto. Your pride. Your acceptance. 
“This was just the first time, Joel,” you continue. “You’ll get the hang of it.” 
He ain’t so sure about that, not with the way his leg aches. A leg that isn’t even there anymore, chopped off right above the knee, to save his life, apparently. It’s part of why it hurts so goddamn much. Feels like he’s pushing his calf into something it can’t fit in, like the long gone meat and bone are getting ground up into his thigh. 
But if he gets the hang of it, then things will be better. He’ll at least be able to move on his own. He might be able to find some way to work again. Wall duty was looking pretty good, because all you really have to do is sit there and watch the horizon and be able to shoot pretty well. 
There is hope in the future. There is hope in you reminding him of that, realistic to a fault, pragmatic to your core. 
And unlike Joel, you’ve never had it in you to lie. 
Joel tightens his hand on your forearm again, pressure on your sun warmed skin. It’s a poor substitute for the thank you that you deserve. You seem to get his meaning though. Your hand feathers through his hair again and the sun doesn’t feel so abrasive, and the smells of spring don’t seem so weighed down by death. 
“Ellie’s coming for dinner,” you offer. “Said she’s got a movie or a game or something that she wants to show you.” 
Yeah, so maybe the day ain’t so bleak as he thought it was. 
“All right.” 
You offer him a hand up, and slip your arm behind his back. He carefully drapes his arm around your shoulders, mindful, even now, of his weight against yours. “What a strong thing you are,” he comments, not able to stop the corner of his mouth from twitching. You look so determined.
It’s the way you always look, when put to task.  
You roll your eyes. “Lucky for you.” 
“Lucky for me,” he says, soft about it.  
The stairs are the worst part of getting back inside, but it's much easier than it had been before. 
It’s a relief to collapse into the couch and take the prosthetic off. The phantom pains still ache and stretch painfully tight, like the skin is being pulled taut, like there was a knot that just needed massaged out. He grits his teeth and represses the urge to reach down and rub sore muscle that no longer exists. 
It’s a relief to collapse into the couch, even if guilt punches him in the chest for it. 
It’s an even bigger relief when you press yourself into the space next to him. He doesn’t know how you stand it sometimes. How you can look at him and still not hate him for every mistake he’s ever made. 
“Knee always fuckin’ bothered me anyhow,” he comments, turning his head so his words brush against your temple. “Don’t gotta worry about it gettin’ stiff now, I reckon.” 
You reward him with a snort, the scrape of your fingernails against his cheek, a kiss. 
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It’s easier to get around, with the prosthetic that he hates. 
But he’s slow. Slower than he’s ever been in his whole life. And sometimes, most times, it frustrates him. 
Being able to walk is one thing. It’s a fine thing. But he needs to be able to do more than that. Run, fight, shoot. A fucking pipe dream. But he’s back to building, carpentry, and that’s something at least. Something useful. 
Joel has tried asking you about that day, because he doesn’t remember a whole lot besides the pain. But your chest goes fluttery with panic, the rise and fall of it unfamiliar to him. You don’t get nervous. You never have, not over anything. 
But when he asks about that day, you mutter something about Tommy and blood, and he can’t get anything else out of you. Tommy does the same, eyes cast to the side, thumbs hooked in his belt, foot starting a nervous rhythm. 
He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with either of you, what the goddamn problem is. 
In some ways, Joel’s always thought you were tougher than him, a balance of brutal and rough and unforgiving with softened sweetness. Bash the skull of a hunter in with a metal pipe, then use your unsullied hand to stroke back Ellie’s hair, to offer help to strangers, to pat the nose of your horse gently. 
He would never want to be on the other side of the wrath you kept wrapped up inside your heart. 
But, now, you don’t leave Jackson anymore. You haven’t been outside Jackson’s walls since that day. 
Tommy tells him you can’t even bear to take a shift on the wall, which mainly comprised of sitting at the top of the wall and doing a whole lot of nothing, looking at the horizon, shuffling your feet to keep warm.
It’s unlike you. You love to patrol, just like him. 
That’s his fault, too. Your nightmares, your sleeplessness.
Ellie plays the guitar for him, even after he gets the hang of it again, even after he’s walking on his own again, the chords coming back to him easier and easier. They don’t have to talk much, that way. 
She’s still mad, but he almost died, and she’s willing to try with him. 
She comes over for dinner. She always brings a movie. 
It gets easier. 
And slowly, by the end of the summer, she smiles when she sees him.
He’s gotten the hang of walking again, which is never a sentiment he thought he’d have about himself. Joel always assumed he’d be killed before something like really old age could set in, or something like this, a disability he doesn’t want to learn to live with. 
It’s rained recently and the yard smells like perchitor and the ever present mountain sage. The grass is just a little muddy from the many loops around the yard. “You’re going to fall and break your neck, old man.” 
“Breakin’ my neck can’t be much worse than what it is right now. We ain’t goin’ around the yard anyhow. Now c’mon, put your shoes on, kiddo.” 
“It’s still raining,” she complains. 
“Means no one’s outside to see me humiliatin’ myself.” 
Ellie only rolls her eyes but does it anyway. He doesn’t need a hand anymore, but he’s shaky sometimes and despite your best efforts he’s still refusing a cane. But he also hasn’t been using the track in the yard in weeks.
That, and he actually has somewhere to be these days, figuring out better security for Jackson, looking after the patrol teams, assessing who was ready to be put into rotation. Managing is what he should be calling it, though he doesn’t care for it. He and Maria butt heads too often for it to be anything close to enjoyable. 
When they pass the mailbox, Ellie points to the lavender. “I never thought to ask about it before. It’s everywhere. Some nailed above the door and everything.” 
“Some kinda thing about protectin’ the home,” Joel explains. “Far as I remember, it protects from bad energy. Somethin’ like that.” 
“I thought that was sage?”
“Sage you burn,” he explains. “And we get plenty of that too. Whole damn house smells like it.” 
“Seems like the kinda thing Dina would do,” she says and then seems to realize who she’s said it to. But she doesn’t change the subject. “Didn’t take her for the superstitious type. Doesn’t seem like it really works anyway.” 
Joel shrugs. “She was before the outbreak, I guess.” He watches Ellie from the corner of his eye. She’s steadfastly not looking at him, but she also doesn’t usually say so much to him. “Didn’t have reason to think of it for a long time. Lavender wasn’t exactly in high supply in Boston.” 
Ellie nods.
“She used to, uh, put some in your backpack when she knew you was goin’ out. Same with me, always put some in my pocket.” 
There’s a long silence. Jackson’s streets are oddly empty in the pouring rain. Lights glow in the windows; inviting, homely. “She didn’t have to do that.” 
He shrugs and his shoulder only aches a little for it. “It’s just the kinda thing parents do, even if it don’t make any damn sense.” 
“Yeah,” Ellie agrees as the turn toward the center of Jackson. “You wanna stop in the Bison?” 
“Sure,” he agrees. “For a minute.” 
“Full schedule?” She teases. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your sunset years?”
“Well, gotta have something to fill up the days, kiddo. Maybe one day you’ll actually be able to keep up.”
She just scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, whatever."
Joel tries not to smile.  
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Being mobile again, busy again, feels good. 
It feels good, but it also means he’s in near constant pain.
He tells himself it’s good, that pain sharpens him, makes him better. 
Until he’s slumped on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, heaving his guts up from the ache in his leg. 
You find him there, sweaty and panting, with a glass of water in hand. Joel pushes himself upright against the wall with a sigh as you close the lid of the toilet and flush it before sitting beside him on the cool tile. 
“You’re overdoing it again,” you say, not unkindly.
“I ain’t tryin’ to,” he mutters and takes the glass of water when you offer it to him. 
“I know.” You cover his free hand with yours. “Wanna get up?” 
You smell faintly of peppermint, burned incense. 
When he shakes his head, you stretch to flip the light switch over your head. He’s plunged into darkness, alone, for just a moment, before you settle again. The warmth of your head against his shoulder feels stolen. 
For a long time, neither of you say anything. He breathes through the pain still crawling around his knee, the phantom flesh of his calf. 
“I was a goddamn fool,” he whispers into the silence. “You know what I was thinkin’ that day?” He’s not sure where the words come from, the confession. It feels a little like the words are being pulled up out of his body, yanked right from the center of his chest. 
“Tell me,” your nose is warm when it bumps against his collarbone. 
“‘Bout Ellie. How I’d want someone to help her, if she needed it. So I helped that girl. Almost got all of us fuckin’ killed.”
You don’t answer, not at first. But eventually, you lean into him and say, “If you want me to blame you, I won’t. I will never find fault in kindness.” Your thumb strokes his knuckles slowly. “Never. Especially not yours.” 
He brushes his mouth along your hairline, skin silken against his mouth. “Y’know when we was on the road, I was sure you’d get us killed. But y’always knew when to trust someone. How much to trust ‘em.” 
“I. . .” you start and then trail off, fingers squeezing around his. “I was always lucky, and I always knew I had you at my back. If I messed up, you were always there.” 
His eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the bathroom, and when he meets your gaze, he can see the glaze of tears in your eyes. You suck in a shaking breath and clear your throat but don’t continue. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there the same way.” 
“This ain’t on you,” he says. “Don’t think that. It’s me. It was a long time comin’ somethin’ would catch up to me.”
You settle in against him, one hand digging into the sore muscle of his thigh. The heat feels like, the flex of your gentle fingers even better. The pain that doesn’t exist fades just a little. 
“And for the record, darlin’, you were there the same way.” 
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It’s autumn again when you go back onto the patrol rotation. There’s frost on the windows and on the spikes of overgrown grass in the front yard. He just got back from a night watch on the wall.  
You’re taking his old routes with Tommy, and you don’t tell him about it until the morning of. Not a fucking soul breathed a word of it to him, and he’s the one figuring out the goddamned rotations. 
And Joel realizes though he’d been worried about you not wanting to leave Jackson anymore, not even being able to go near the gates, he was glad you hadn’t wanted to. It meant you were safe. Even if he couldn’t keep you safe anymore, the walls of Jackson could.
“I’m not doing this with you right now,” you say before you leave, pretending like he can’t clearly see your hands shaking before you walk out the door.
He follows you onto the porch. He can’t remember what he says, just that you look upset and then hurt, just that you don’t say goodbye when you walk away and that you probably don’t have lavender tucked into your pocket like he always did. 
“Please.” A word he hardly ever says, a plea he never gives into. 
He says it to your retreating back as you pass the mailbox, but you either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. 
Maybe he didn’t say it at all.
That day is hell. It’s long and pocketed with anger and anxiety. If something happens to you, he isn’t sure what he’ll do. He doesn’t like that you left him upset. 
Maria doesn’t entertain his outburst about it when he finally corners her after looking for her all morning. “She was ready.” 
“I didn’t even know we were considerin’ sendin’ her back out!” 
Maria just levels him with a glare that could freeze hell over. “That isn’t up to just you. And why do you think she didn’t want to tell you?” 
He’s at the stables with Ellie that evening when you come home, waiting. It’s cold and his leg is aching something bitter and awful but he doesn’t move and Ellie doesn’t suggest going back home because she knows he won’t hear it. Dina stops by and he listens to them talk. Ellie’s face softens when she looks at Dina, cheeks a soft pink in the fading light, ducking her head and fidgeting with her fingers. 
Joel tries not to pay them any mind, but it's hard not to find endearing. 
When you and Tommy get back, it’s full dark. He wants to throttle his brother for not telling him you were going back out on the trails, but it’s too cold for much of that. All thoughts of strangling Tommy fly from his head as soon as he sees you, because you have a smear of blood on your cheek and down your neck. 
“Goddamn it, what happened?” He demands, hands against your face before you’ve even fully dismounted. 
“I’m fine.” 
“That ain’t what I asked,” he sweeps his thumb over your skin, flakes of red shifting to the ground. The knot in his chest tightens as he watches it flutter through the air. “What happened?” He growls again. “Tommy?” 
“The usual, Joel,” you pull his attention back to you. “It was just cleanup. A couple of infected. Nothing.” 
“Uh huh,” he tilts your face one way and then the other. 
“Just some splatter.” You shrug and smile at him; your mouth twitches, and he realizes you’re teasing him. 
“Splatter,” he repeats flatly. “That ain’t funny. You ain’t funny. C’mon, let’s go home.” 
Ellie and Dina have disappeared with your arrival but they aren’t far; he can hear their chatter as they walk along the street toward the center of Jackson, the echoes of their voices reaching back towards him. “I’ll deal with you later,” he says to his brother. 
Tommy just raises his hands and says he’ll stable the horses. But he’s grinning and maybe that’s a good thing. It’s been awhile since his brother has seemed himself. It’s been awhile since the two of you have given him grief together. 
“Leave Tommy alone,” you say as you walk toward Rancher Street. You seem steadier than you had been that morning, more confident, more yourself. It isn’t a long walk back, even with his leg, though he limps worse than usual because of the cold. You wrap an arm around his waist, your fingers digging into his back pocket, body warm against his side. “We did good together today.” 
“Mhm. I’m sure you did.” 
“You mad at me?” 
“I wish you’d tell me,” he murmurs. “When you’re goin’ off to do somethin’ stupid. I need you to talk to me. Worried the whole goddamn day. You ain’t exactly in practice out there anymore.” 
You hum and then nudge closer to him. “Put your arm around me.”
“I’m fine,” he grunts, maybe a little harshly. 
“Joel,” you laugh and nuzzle your face against his shoulder. “C’mon. I’m cold and I had a rough day. Put your arm around me.” 
So, he does. And he leaves it there until you’re in the bathroom, sitting on the counter in front of him, lavender plants stacked in the sink behind you once again as the colder weather sets in. 
This is better. So much fucking better, than the other way around. This is right.
He cleans the blood away, finds the swell of a bruise on your shoulder and a cut lengthways over your collarbone. 
It’s easy enough to take care of. It isn’t as bad as what he’d been imagining all day long. 
He’s well in practice for this sort of thing, for bandaging and assessing wounds. 
“Sorry,” he says as he works. “For this mornin’.”
“Mhm.”
“I worried all day. Not much I can do now, if you get into a spot of trouble.”
“I handle myself fine. Tommy was there. He’s a good partner out there.” 
Joel grunts, dabs rubbing alcohol along the cut. “He is,” he agrees reluctantly. He supposes if you had to go on patrol with anyone, he’d prefer you go with his brother.  
You touch him as he works, fingers patting over his jacket, the collar of his flannel, the frayed edge of the t-shirt beneath that. “I had to go back out, Joel. You would have argued with me and I can’t be afraid and useless forever.”
“Useless,” he scoffs and unspools a length of bandage. “You don’t know nothin’ about that.” 
“Joel,” you say softly, exasperated. “Baby, you don’t know what it was like that day. I thought you were already dead.” Your voice trembles and you have to swallow harshly before you can continue. “Helpless and useless doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt. What I still feel.” You shake your head and cup your fingers around his. “I dream about it every single night and I still don’t really remember what happened. That scares me a lot.” 
He slides his thumb along the gauze, your eyes wide and worried when he meets them.“I’ll never be who I was, sweetheart.” His voice sounds mournful to his own ears. 
“You’re exactly the same man, Joel. I’m just happy you’re here and alive and you’re worried you aren’t alive the right damn way.” You shake your head. “I can’t ask for much more than what I have. Than what we do. Me and you. Ellie back in our life. A home. Food. Family. You,” you touch his jaw and smile. “Still here. Still taking care of me.” 
There’s a lump in his throat, hard as a stone. “Yep.” He coughs in an attempt to clear his voice but he sounds just as wrecked when he speaks. “Patrol musta been real good to y’today.”
You just laugh, and the sound of it is wet. “Yeah. It was. I thought it would be terrible but I missed it.” 
“I know you did.” 
“You should come on a ride with me sometime,” you say slyly. “I bet it’d feel good to be back in the saddle. You’ve always been a good shot from the back of a horse.”
He has. 
Maybe he should. 
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💞 If you made it this far, thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞
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ilovetulips · 1 year
Text
fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson
part 2 !
WARNINGS : smut 18+ pls ,, age gap (ages aren’t rlly mentioned but r is 21, e is 39) ,, p in v and all the stuff that comes w it ,, lots of petnames ,, use of yn!
A/N : first smut ive ever written. so scared rn. hope u all like it
———
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely petrified walking into the small hallway containing each tattooist’s room. your legs were shaking and your heart was pounding, so much so that your vision blurred as you stepped up to your assigned room.
“eddie munson”, you could eventually make out from the sign on the door.
entering the spacious room, you look around and take in the darkened walls littered with various drawings, the long bed on the left side covered in cellophane and the faint sound of music playing.
it took you a while to finally catch sight of the mess of dark curls on the right hand side, bopping his head to the music slightly, small grey hairs shining in the light and his hand scratching his pencil against the paper below him.
“h…hi.” you voice squeaked out in a stutter, sounding completely different to how you usually speak.
“can i help you?” he barks out rudely, not even turning to look at you.
“oh i’m sorry, i must’ve got the wrong room. sorry for disturbing you.” you begin to back out of the doorway behind you, before his brown eyes shoot up and meet yours.
“shit- sorry sweet thing, thought you were maria from next door. c’mere, sit down.” he gives you a cheesy smile while his eyes widen slightly. “you my 2 o’clock, yeah?”
your palms shine with a thin layer of sweat, originating from both excitement and nerves. “mhm, should be under the name y/n.”
“gottcha sweetheart, beautiful name. what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hm?”he rolls over in his chair to where you’re sat on the bed, placing his large palms over your trembling knees.
he smirks down at them before focusing on you, his pupils blowing out and looking at your lips every now and then.
“it’s m’first tattoo… can you tell?” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, his face intimidating you - not that you were scared of him, he was just really attractive.
“yeah, you’re shakin’ like a leaf doll, but i’m here to help ya stay calm. whattcha thinking of getting?” he tucks a stray hair of your behind your ear before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
god his arms were consumed in ink, only adding to his attractive qualities.
———
you spoke to eddie about the design, placement and all necessary paperwork before you were relaxed on the bed, laying on your side and watching the boy prep his tattoo machine.
you had a few voice cracks and stuttered a bit while talking to him, mostly due to his stare shrinking you, but he had made you feel extremely calm while prepping you.
“mkay doll, gonna need you to lift that shirt up a tad for me n’ we’ll get started. no rush, you tell me when you’re ready and when you wanna stop. can you do that for me darlin’?” his chair rolls back over to you, his gun ready to go.
you nod your head and reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. you’re stopped, however, when eddie’s calloused hand covers yours.
“words, sweetness. need you to use ‘em.” he taps your skull with his other hand, and pinches the hem of your shirt with the other.
you can’t deny the blush tickling your face is because of him slowly driving you insane, but you’re not going to stop him. “i can do that.”
“for me?” he tilts his head, crows feet creasing around his eyes as he smiles.
“for you.” your lips stay in the oval shape as he moves your shirt himself, yet you can’t take your eyes of his own lips. you have no idea how old he is. late 30s maybe? is this wrong? you shouldn’t feel attracted to someone like 18 years older than you… right?
he catches sight of the band of your bra, all cute and lacy. now it’s his turn to blush slightly. he can’t help the wicked grin spreading across his features, such a pretty girl wearing such a pretty bra.
“now you tell me if it hurts too much, wouldn’t want to cause such a precious girl like you so much pain.” he’s good at this. really good at this. your face was now beet red, and your thighs were unconsciously clenching together. you hoped he wouldn’t notice - he did. and it went straight to his ego.
———
you’re about 15 minutes into the tattoo itself. eddie taking his time and meticulously placing every line with care. you can’t help the small noises you make when it becomes particularly painful, once again hoping he didn’t notice.
he stops with a sigh, the faint bzzing making the silence grow louder, and the tension more suffocating. “sweetheart, if you don’t stop making those pretty noises i’m not gonna make it through this tattoo.”
his darkened pupils look up at you through his curls gracing his forehead. you didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at him with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. you, luckily, were too oblivious to notice the amount of times he had to adjust himself in his pants, and the prominent boner he was sporting right now.
he knew it was “unprofessional”, but he had never had a client like you before. you walk in with a cute little shirt and skirt, lacy underwear and give him doe eyes while moaning to yourself and expect him to not react?
“m sorry… didn’t realise i was doing it.” you look away from him, trying to focus on the artwork on the walls, but only being able to focus on the growing wet patch in your underwear. he has a way with words, and he’s incredibly attractive.
“don’t have to apologise, i like ‘em. but they’re driving me insane over here princess.” he leans down to meet your eyes in front of your head. the tension was so intense you were practically choking on it. he can’t help but reach over and trace your lips with his thumb, pulling your bottom lip down while you let him do it.
“so pretty.” he mumbles, leaning back and patting your thigh before reaching to finish the tattoo. “want you to lie just on your back now, yeah? nearly there doll.” and so you do, until the pleasure pain was so much that you were arching off the bed, your breasts nearly spilling out the top of your shirt.
eddie was glad he was wearing jeans that day, so the wet patch of precum in his boxers wouldn’t soak into their material. you, however, were not glad to be wearing a skirt with such easy access to your underwear, and the larger wet patch soaking them.
“fuck- baby you can’t keep doing that. you’re makin’ it real hard to concentrate over here.” he rubs his hand over his face and reaches for the cup of water on the small table next to him.
“…sorry.” you smile sheepishly. “can we… uh take a break?”
“course princess, you want anythin’?” by anything he means a snack or some water - but you’d hoped the offer was for something else.
you shake your head no before looking back up at the ceiling. that didn’t last long until you could feel someone’s eyes on you - eddie’s.
he was sat, legs spread and arm leaning on it, his veins prominent in the hand pinching his lip. but his eyes were the most captivating, as they were black. full of lust and desire. you saw the affect you had on him, and to be honest you have never felt so attractive or turned on.
you turned your head to look at him, lolling it to the side before contorting your body fulling to the side. your skirt flicked up and caught your hip as you did, revealing your panties and causing eddie to groan.
he clamped his eyes shut before walking over to you, gripping your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and forcing you to look up at him. “i can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose, or you’re just dumb.” his words shocked you.
“m not doing anything, eds.” you tilt your head to the side slightly, smirking as you did so. you weren’t doing it on purpose yourself, but maybe your body was just reacting naturally to him and doing it to make him look.
“eds? we’re on nickname basis now sweets?” he leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your lips as you squirm under his gaze. you nod dumbly as his hand travels to grip your jaw and rub his thumb across your lips again. you were practically panting, desperately trying to relieve yourself without him realising.
“you gone all shy now? after that whole performance?” he presses his lips to the base of your throat, peppering slow kisses up it’s centre before meeting your lips. “maybe i’ll just let you sort yourself out. who knows who else you’ve been a little slut for.”
a whine escapes your lips as he pulls away from your lips, missing his warmth. the name going straight to your cunt and making you needier.
“jus’ you. i promise. couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap.
“don’t act all innocent with me angel, i know what you want, and you know what you were doing. want you to tell me what you want from me.” he crouches down in front of you, hands on your thighs and inching up slowly.
“need you to touch me. want you so bad.” you squeak out, shuffling about on the bed.
“oh yeah? want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” he peels back your skirt, your panties on full display as you lean on your elbows to look at him curse under his breath. he grips your knees and spreads your legs further apart, eyeing the wet patch between your legs.
“god you’re so wet, i can see it from here. got you all worked up hm?” he presses kisses on your inner thighs, watching you squirm until he roughly grabs your hips. his stubble scratching your thigh slightly as he kisses higher.
you hum in agreement, focused on the growing tension about to snap. that was until you felt his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear, pulling them down to show off your glistening folds.
he growls slightly, groaning at the sight before pulling your panties off and basically diving into your pussy. licking strips from your hole to your clit, humming and rolling his eyes back at the taste.
he was eating you out like a starved man, sucking at your clit and poking his tongue into your hole while you were a moaning mess above him. writhing and wriggling your hips, grinding into his face while you were overcome with intense pleasure. he brought his hand up, inserting a finger inside of you before lifting his head up and smiling.
“tastes like heaven, sweetheart. so so sweet f’me fuck.” he reaches that spongey part inside of you, your moans growing whinier as you reach your climax. he roughly covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sounds you’re making before watching his finger plunge in and out of you.
he starts sucking at your clit again, mewling at the taste of you before adding a second finger to thrust into you. your eyes were rolling back into your head as he coached you to your climax. you failed to notice the poor boy practically grinding the floor, trying to find any way to relieve himself while relishing in your pleasure.
“you gonna cum baby? yeah? go on, cum all over my tongue darlin’”. he poked his tongue back into your hole before making his way back to your clit. he was sloppy, the sounds of him and his tongue filling the room and probably the hall next to it. you didn’t have time to think about it though before white fuzzies took over your vision, and the coil inside you snapped.
eddie slowed his pace down, but lapped at the hot white liquid spurting from your hole. he was basically kitten licking it by the time you’d snapped out of your intense climax. you’d slept with guys before, with women before, but none had ever made you feel like this.
so you grabbed him by his hair into a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. you hum sweetly at the taste of yourself being transferred from him to you, trailing your hands down his chest and towards his bulge. he looked big, but nothing could’ve prepared you what he was actually hiding.
he sat down, spreading his legs as you knelt down in front of him, holding his cock in your hand and staring at it. he hissed as the cold air hit his sensitive tip, sticky with precum. he chuckled darkly at your expression, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your cheek lightly a few times.
“you okay there, doll? you can take me.” he smirks, smug from your expression. you lean in, licking a stripe from his base to the tip and taking extra time to lick the prominent vein pulsing on the side. he groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips up into the air before you grasp him with both hands and lick his tip a few times.
you watch his face the whole time, scrunched up in pleasure and making him look so much more attractive. swirling your tongue around his tip and licking the precum away, you start to take him down your throat until your nose hits the base.
“fuuu-uck. where’d you learn that you little slut? used to suckin’ big dick are ya?” his groans are sent straight to your core, making you wetter than before.
you pull away with a ‘pop’, and look into his eyes. “you’re so big, eds. biggest i’ve ever seen.” you’re about to go down again until he grabs your face harshly, puckering your lips while he stands and looks down at you.
“don’t believe that. you gonna let me fuck your face now, sweetheart. quit teasin’.” he holds his cock, guiding his tip to your parted lips and thrusting his hips in slowly until you’re gagging. strings of curses tumble out of his mouth at the sensation as he pulls out and fucks your face harshly. his balls slapping on your chin while you moan and clench your pussy as he uses you as a fucktoy.
“such a good girl, letting me ruin your pretty mouth like this. fuck- perfect angel.” he’s holding your chin as tears flood down your cheeks from gagging so much. he’s thrusting so intense that your jaw is starting to ache.
“shit shit shit - gonna cum sweet girl. swallow it all f’me, be a good girl.” and so you did. hot ropes of his salty release coat your tongue and the back of your throat. you stick your tongue out at him, so he can see the dollops of him cum he left there before you swallow it all happily and sit up to kiss him again. watching you, eddie could feel himself getting hard again.
his tongue swipes over yours, both of your recent releases mixing together in your mouths. salty residues left at the corners of your mouths before you pull apart.
“bed. now.” he pants at you, walking you towards it until your back reaches it and you fall back. you spread your legs again, giving him a look at your pussy dripping with arousal again. he watched as a bead of the liquid travels down your thighs, before he laps it up and rubs his tip through your folds.
the sensation of his tip hitting your clit almost had you screaming, but you bit down on his shoulder instead as he sharply sucked air through his teeth.
“eddie- please.” you pant, the words coming out strained from desperation. hearing you beg for it did something to him, blood pumping to his tip more than before.
he plunged into you slowly, the burn of the stretch adding to your pleasure as eddie groaned. he went all the way in and stopped, kissing your collarbone before looking at you.
“feels so fuckin’ good. so tight for me.”
“move. please move- fuck.” he pulls his hips sharply, before slamming them back into pace and setting a rough pace to fuck into you at. he was so big, it felt like he was ruining your pussy and your organs. his tip prodding against your cervix, creating a bulge in your stomach that he pressed on.
“look at that. too big for your pussy to fit. fuck” the rough pace he set had led your moans into an incoherent string of words. you couldn’t process what was happening, just the intense pressure building in your stomach causing you to clench around him.
“y’fucked all dumb up there, angel? fuck- clenchin’ around me like that m’ not gonna last.” his hips stutter before falling back into their pace.
“fuckfuckfuckfuck” high pitched screams sound out of you, not caring who can hear anymore because it feels so good.
“my dumb girl, pussy’s made f’me isn’t she. god you’re perfect.” you can’t help but drool at his words, being fucked so dumb that you can’t remember words.
you clench harder around him, indicating you’re close as your moans mush together. his hips falter again, becoming overwhelmed by the wetness squeezing his cock. he reaches his hand down to your clit, and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around and rubs it in circles around the nub.
the sensation is so overwhelming, your orgasm crashes over you with no warning. you hadn’t even got a chance to warn eddie about needing to pee - which didn’t matter anyway as you squirted all over his dick. the lewd sounds still filling up the room as eddie doesn’t slow down.
“squirting all over me, fuckin’ slut. you’re gonna stay here till i cum, use you as my own little toy.” you were falling into being overstimulated, the climax still having it’s effects on you. but you notice him slowing his pace down.
“shit- gonna cum. can i cum in you, doll? feels so good i don’t wanna pull out. please?” he flops his head to your shoulder.
“please cum in me, eds. want you to cum so deep in me.” before you knew it, his warmth was spitting out of his sensitive dick, painting your inner walls white and mixing with your own release as he pulls out of you slowly.
the white liquid of both of your releases drips out of your hole, before eddie quickly puts your panties back on you to prevent it from dripping out, giving the puffy mound a few playful taps and causing you to hiss from overstimulation.
“want you to keep it all in there for me, like the good girl you are.” he kisses you sweetly before flipping your skirt back down and making sure you’re okay.
———
“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” the man says next to you, arm around your shoulder as you trace the tattoos on his chest.
“me too. felt so good eds.” you smirk at the new nickname. you sit up and grab a pen from the table next to you. finding a space between the collage covering his body, you write your number down.
“i wanna see you again. call me?” you rest your chin on his chest.
“course i will sweetness.” he kisses your head before standing up and sitting back down in his rolling chair.
“y’wanna finish that tattoo now?”
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storiesforallfandoms · 8 months
Text
herogasm ~ soldier boy;the boys
word count: 3678
request?: no
description: in which she’s trying to leave the supe orgy, just to stumble into the room of the man who started it
pairing: soldier boy x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, praise, unprotected p in v), mentions of herogasm (the event, not the episode)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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I didn’t want to be there. There was a number of reasons why, but the most prominent one was definitely that I did not want to be involved in an orgy full of Supes.
My best friend, Maria, had convinced me to come. I had gone through a pretty hard breakup that left me basically inconsolable for days. I only left the house to go to work, and even then I was very much just operating on autopilot. Maria wanted to get me out of the house, so she came over and told me she had gotten an invite to some big Supe party and intended to take me with her to get my mind off of things.
She didn’t tell me until we showed up that the “party” was the infamous Supe orgy known as “Herogasm”.
Apparently, Maria had hooked up with a Supe who had an in to the party. She got the invite and thought an orgy would be the perfect idea to get me over my breakup. There was just one little flaw in her plan: I was not an orgy person. I was insecure enough about my body that I felt awkward being naked in front of one person, let alone an entire house full of strangers. Supe strangers at that.
Maria abandoned me the minute we walked through the door, taken by the Supe she fucked to get here. I was left, on my own in the corner, while a lot of naked people walked or fucked around me. A couple glanced in my direction, one even tried to proposition me, which I politely declined. I wasn’t sure how long I was stood there before everything became overwhelming. I needed to get away from all those people. I needed to be somewhere with no moaning or screaming or sex noises. Somewhere that I could calm myself down before I left.
I stumbled through the house, feeling my heart pounding harder and harder with every overwhelming second that passed. Behind almost every door I could hear more moaning and squelching. It felt like there was no true escape from it - there was even people fucking outside - until I turned the knob on a door that led to a seemingly empty room. I stumbled in, slamming the door behind me and sliding down it until I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head against my knees.
“Well, hello there.”
I jumped at the sudden sound of someone’s voice. I looked up to see I had hidden myself away in a bedroom. The main bedroom, I concluded, judging by the huge size of the room, the bed, and the fact there was a mini bar in the corner of the room. A mini bar with a man stood behind it. A very handsome man in nothing but a silk robe.
“Shit,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I - ”
“No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “Judging by the fact that you still have clothes on, you’re not here for the orgy.”
I shook my head. “One of my friends brought me here. She didn’t even tell me what it was until we pulled up.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment before stepping away from the mini bar. I tensed up as he got closer to me. I was trying to figure out if I’d get out fast enough when he reached me. He reached over me and turned the lock on the knob.
“Stay as long ad you want,” he told me. “Not that anyone usually comes in unannounced anyways. I think you’re the first person to stumble into my room in years.”
My eyes widened as he started walking away. “Y-Your room? So...you’re the host here?”
He turned back and raised an eyebrow at me. “You serious?” I nodded. “I created this whole fuckin’ thing. Herogasm is my baby.”
That’s when it finally clicked. “Holy shit, you’re Soldier Boy!”
He grinned at me before he took a sip of his drink.
I couldn’t believe it. I had stumbled into the room of the most famous Supe in the entire world and I didn’t even recognize him at first! God, this couldn’t get any more embarrassing.
“You don’t have to huddle up by the door like a scared kid,” he said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
I wasn’t sure if I could take his word for it. I knew he was a Supe and all, and Supes were supposed to protect people, but he did have me locked in his room, while he was naked no less. Well, besides a robe. I’d be helpless against him if he did decide he wanted to hurt me.
Despite knowing this, I still slowly got to my feet. He was pouring up another glass as I walked further into his giant room. It was like the size of my living room and kitchen combined. I was in awe of it so much that I could hear Soldier Boy chuckling to himself. He extended a glass to me and gestured to the bed. I took the glass, hesitantly, and sat down.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Bourbon,” he responded. “Some of the best shit money can buy.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker. I could smell the strong, alcoholic scent before even raising the glass to my lips. I took a small sip and immediately cringed at the stinging feeling that ran down my throat. Soldier Boy laughed.
“That’s God awful,” I groaned.
“You just don’t appreciate fine alcohol,” he said.
“I appreciate it when it doesn’t taste like battery acid,” I retorted. “What are you doing in here, anyways? If you created this...thing, shouldn’t you be partaking?”
He grunted and took another mouthful of his own drink. I figured that was the best I would be getting from him.
“How did you get in?” he asked. “It’s invite only, and usually the only non-Supes invited are hookers.”
I looked down at my glass again, debating on taking another sip. “My friend hooked up with a Supe who gave her the invite. She lied at the door and told them I had been invited, too.”
“Then she ditched you?”
I nodded. “Probably getting her pussy super-stretched as we speak.”
That made him laugh. I felt some sense of pride at that. The most famous Supe in the world was laughing at my jokes. That had to be bragging rights.
“Sounds like a shit friend, then,” he commented.
“No, she is a good friend. She’s very...sexually liberated. This type of thing is very up her alley. Me, not so much.”
“Then why did she take you here?”
I gazed down at the glass of auburn liquid. The memory of my recent breakup brought back all my negative emotions. With one swift gulp, I finished the contents of the glass. I shuddered as it burned down my throat.
“My boyfriend of four years dumped me,” I said. “Just woke up one day and told me he didn’t feel the same way anymore. After we had just moved in together a few months prior.”
Soldier Boy whistled. “That sounds rough.”
“It was the worst fucking day of my life,” I muttered. “Maria, my friend, I guess she thought a super-sex party would be the best way to get me to move on. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and all that.”
“That never works. Trust me.”
Oh, there was a story there. I could tell. One that was probably connected to the reason he wasn’t participating in his own orgy. Normally, I wouldn’t pry. I didn’t know Soldier Boy. He would probably forget all about me once I left his room. But the bourbon was starting to get to me. I found myself leaning forward, close enough that I could smell his aftershave.
“What happened?” I asked him. “What made you not want to participate in Herogasm?”
He looked at me. I could tell he was debating on telling me. I wasn’t sure if I should push the issue further than those questions, even if my curiosity was getting the best of me.
Finally, he sighed and said, “My girl left me because of one of these things.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I couldn’t even remember who Soldier Boy’s “girl” was in that moment.
“We used to host together,” he explained. “Once a year, we would allow each other to fuck whoever we wanted at Herogasm. One night, one meaningless orgy, and that was it. Then, a few years back, she comes to me the day after Herogasm and she tells me that she met someone that night. I don’t know, I guess they talked in between the fucking or some shit. She dumped me on the spot for the guy. Took all of her shit and left that same day.”
Okay, definitely a lot worse than my sob story. My ex completely shattered my heart, sure, but he didn’t leave me for someone else. Especially not someone that he fucked in our own house, during a party that we were hosting together. Even if they had an agreement that they could sleep around during Herogasm, that was a huge hit to trust. One that I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten over in his shoes.
“Since then, I haven’t participated,” he continued. “I’ll host, since it’s my creation, but I usually just walk around, make sure everything is going okay and everyone is having a good time, then I hide away in here until everyone gets too tired from the fucking and either leaves or falls asleep.”
“Why keep hosting it if you don’t want to participate anymore?” I asked. “Why not hand it off to someone else?”
“Because it’s my thing. I created it, and it got bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. I thought about cancelling it after Countess left me, but it’s become this huge thing to Supes and their groupies. I don’t want to disappoint anyone by cancelling it, and I wouldn’t want anyone else stealing it from me and making it a shit version of what it used to be.”
Before I could respond, there was a bang against his door. We both jumped and turned towards the door. Judging by the rhythmic beating on the door and the shouts of pleasure, it was just a couple that had decided to use Soldier Boy’s door as another fuck place. I chuckled and turned back to him. My laughter died out, though, once I realized how close we had gotten to one another. My face was mere inches away from his. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. The closeness made my heart start pounding a little harder.
The alcohol had definitely kicked in because I did something that was very unlike me in that moment: I leaned forward and kissed him.
He was receptive right away. His free hand moved to hold the back of my head. His lips moved perfectly in time with mine. His tongue slid against my lower lip, asking permission for entrance, and I gave it to him. I let my empty glass fall to the floor, luckily the fall being cushioned by a rug next to his bed, while he placed his on the nightstand next to the bed without breaking our kiss. In one swift movement, he moved me so that I was straddling his lap, not once breaking our kiss.
His hands explored my body, running down the sides of my torso, to my hips, then over my ass. He grabbed the meaty flesh there, rocking my hips forward unintentionally (or maybe it was intentional) against him. His cock was growing hard and I could feel that the tip was starting to peak out from his robe. Suddenly, I felt very overdressed compared to him, and I wanted to change that.
I broke away and Soldier Boy watched with lust filled eye as I pulled my shirt over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I stood from his lap to unbutton my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them and stood in front of him, just in my lingerie. Realizing how naked I was, I felt a little shy suddenly. Like I wanted to cover myself up or make all the light in the room disappear so that he couldn’t see me. But when he pulled me forward again, standing me between his open legs, and leaned forward to start kissing over the exposed skin of my stomach, the insecurities melted away into desire again.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Don’t you dare think of hiding this beautiful body away from me.”
I was shocked that he knew what I was thinking, but I didn’t have time to figure out how he knew. His hands were on me again, pulling me down onto his lap and then quickly turning the two of us so that I was laying beneath him on the bed. I could feel him pressing against my inner thigh as he kissed me again, a pool of wetness starting to fill in my panties.
He moved one hand between my legs, opening them up for him, and ran his finger over the clothed material. I gasped and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth again.
“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “How long has it been since you were touched?”
The answer was a bit embarrassing. That probably should’ve been the first sign that my relationship was going downhill, but I was too naïve to notice that we hadn’t been having sex. Or maybe just too blind to the downfalls of my relationship.
When I didn’t answer, he pulled my panties to the side and slid a finger into me. The sudden protruding felt painful at first. I dug my nails into his arms hard, but didn’t leave any marks or didn’t seem to hurt him in any way. He slowly started thrusting his finger in an out of me until the pain turned to pleasure, and then he added a second finger.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he commented. “That asshole must not have stretched this pussy out in a long time. Either that, or he had a microdick.”
His fingers gained speed. I could hear them becoming wetter and wetter every time he thrusted them inwards. I was well beyond cloud nine, probably cloud twenty at this rate. Whenever I opened my eyes all I could see was stars, and Soldier Boy’s face watching me as I came undone beneath him. He was an expert in ways I could only dream of, reaching places I didn’t even know could feel so good. He had me on the edge of my orgasm, when suddenly the pleasure was ripped away as he pulled his fingers from me.
I whined, trying to reach for him to get the feeling back. But he pulled away from me, putting the two fingers covered in my slick into his mouth and sucking them dry.
“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he said.
“Please,” was all I could manage. It almost sounded pathetic how desperate I sounded.
He smirked down at me. “I’ll give you what you want. I just want you to cum on my dick instead of on my fingers.”
He sat up and untied his robe, throwing it to the floor along with the other discarded clothes. His cock finally sprang free, standing at attention against his stomach. My eyes widened at how big he was. I should’ve anticipated it, I figured most Supe men were probably well hung, but it a shock none the less. I wondered if I would even be able to take his whole length.
He spit on his hand to lube himself up, moved my panties to the side again, and then lined his tip up with my entrance.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded and he began to push into me.
My gasps and moans filled the room as he slowly slid into me, inch by inch, almost at a painfully slow rate. I felt so full with him completely inside of me. I could feel the burn of him stretching me out around his girth, but even the burn felt like pleasure. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to me. I kissed him again, hungrily, desperately, and he got my silent message to start moving.
His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters. It felt so good to feel him pushing in and out of me. His dick was so long that I could feel it not only poking my g-spot, but absolutely abusing it with every thrust. It sent shockwaves of pleasure through me that I wasn’t even sure I had felt before. My head fell back onto the pillow, letting moans tumble from my lips as they felt the need to.
“F-Fuck,” I breathed. “S-Soldier Boy.”
“Ben,” he said, not breaking his pace. “Call me Ben.”
“Ben,” I moaned instead. Definitely a better name to say in bed. “Fuck, it feels so good.”
“Yeah? I think I can tell.”
I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he had a cocky smirk on his face.
I ran my hands from his shoulders down his toned back to his ass. I gave it a squeeze, urging him to go faster. I could feel my high coming back, and I desperately needed to chase it. He did as I wanted and his thrusts became faster, rougher. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with my moans and his grunts. He took hold of my legs and wrapped them around his waist, giving himself a better vantage point for his rough thrusts. I screamed out as his dick pounded against my g-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
“I can feel you’re close,” he said. “I can feel this fucking pussy getting tighter. Cum all over my cock. You can do it, beautiful, I know you can.”
His words of praise and encouragement sent me toppling over the edge. Stars exploded from my vision as my body trembled and convulsed around him. It was the hardest I could ever remember orgasming in my life, and it was definitely the best orgasm I could remember having. I felt like I was flying off of the bed and high into the sky, never to return to Earth again.
If it weren’t for Ben above me, still thrusting and whispering words of praise into my ear, I probably would’ve thought I had actually floated away.
His release came shortly after my own. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me before he was coating my walls. His arms tightened around me as he rode out his own orgasm, grinding into me until he has squeezed every last drop into me. He pushed himself up so he could look down at me again.
“You look fucking gorgeous after being filled with my cum,” he commented.
I felt myself grow hot at the compliment, but my body felt too heavy to cover myself.
“Are you...are you on the pill or anything?” he asked. “I probably should’ve thought of that before, but I was kind of...busy. I can get you a plan b. We have plenty of those lying around for this day.”
I lazily shook my head. “I’m good. I’ve been on birth control since I was a teenager. Besides, I don’t think Supes can reproduce, can they?”
“We’ve been unsuccessful in that field thus far. Thank God.”
I started to chuckle, but it turned to a gasp as I felt him pulling his soft cock out of me. Even when it was soft, it was big. I could hardly believe all of that fit inside of me.
He took hold of my panties and pulled them down my legs, gazing at the mess he had left between them.
“That’s a fucking beautiful sight,” he commented. I rolled my eyes and tried to close my legs, but he quickly held them open. “No, let me see this for another little bit at least.”
“You’re fucking weird.”
“You just fucked me, what does that say about you?”
He eventually climbed back into his bed next to me. I could still hear the orgy raging on outside of the door. I chuckled to myself, causing Ben to look over at me and arch an eyebrow.
“I fucked a Supe at the Supe orgy,” I explained. “But just one Supe, and it was the guy who created the whole fucking thing. I was planning on leaving when I stumbled into your room.”
“Well, thank God you didn’t.”
He put an arm around me and pulled me into his chest.
“Maybe getting under someone does help you get over someone,” I said. “I don’t even remember my ex’s name now.”
His chest vibrated as he laughed. “That is a good thing. If you find yourself remembering, though, you know where I live. You can always come over and I’ll help you forget again.”
I looked up at him. “Really? This wasn’t a one time thing?”
“I don’t intend for it to be. Did you?” I shook my head. “Okay, good. Since we’re on the same page, my offer still stands. Although, the offer actually extends to any time you want to come over, for any reason. Not just for some rebound sex.”
“That’s a dangerous offer. In a house this big, a bed this big, I might never want to leave. I might just live in this bed, honestly.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
We both laughed as he pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I made a mental note to thank Maria for dragging me to the super-fuck party when I finally found her again. Turns out, it wasn’t such a bad time after all.
2K notes · View notes
strang3lov3 · 9 months
Text
Troublemaker (Brain Scramblies 2)
Joel Miller x Fem! Reader
Summary: Joel is bad at feelings and distances himself from you after your concussion, and faces his feelings on patrol with you.
Warnings: Smut smut smut of all varieties, so like oral m and f receiving, PIV. Ya know the drill!!! 18+ MDNI! Joel is bad at feelings. Kind of slow burn, asshole Joel. Very sweet sex! Age gap oops
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAS!!!! BRAIN SCRAMBLIES 2 AT 10PM ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT!! My bf recently informed me you’re not supposed to sleep when you have a concussion so my bad guys sorry for giving you all brain damage that's on me ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON BRAIN SCRAMBLIES! Here’s part two for all who asked!! Like brain scramblies, I don't love this but there was an overwhelming demand for part two and I was concerned for y'alls sanity. Also I changed the title again oops.
Read the first story here! It can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend reading Brain Scramblies first!
Please please please comment and reblog if you enjoy!
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Joel ended up falling asleep with you. He woke up early and quietly excused himself from your bed. God, how pretty you looked sound asleep. With your puffy lips and quiet snoring. The way your hair fell across your face. He pushed your hair away from your eyes and left. 
Stupid. So fucking stupid. 
You didn’t mean any of it, any of what happened last night. Joel was a fool for indulging in your concussed words and letting himself believe any of it was real. He placed too much meaning on last night. 
He’d need to work hard to erase the way you made him feel. He needs to forget how he loved taking care of you, how he wants to be the one to make you feel better after a long day or when you’re sick. How he wants to spend all of his time making you smile. He needs to erase all of his love and adoration for you. 
In the morning, Tommy took you to the doctor. Your head was still sore and pounding slightly, but the doctor assured you that with a week’s worth of rest, you’d be back to normal. Honestly, you’d be better in a day or two but it’s best to take it easy for a while longer, just in case. 
You were in the waiting room while the doctor prepared some medicine for you. Some tea to help with the headaches and nausea, and some pain meds. Tommy was sitting right next to you. 
“Feelin’ alright, honey?” he asked you. 
“Yeah, I’m okay. Hurting a little but I’ll be fine,” you replied. Your head was still tender, and likely would be for a while. 
“Up for dinner on Friday? As long as you’re feeling okay, of course,”
“Yeah, yeah. Only if Maria is cooking, of course,” you teased him. Tommy wasn’t a great cook, unfortunately. 
Tommy chuckled. “Well, that’s a given. Joel will be there too. You remember him taking you home last night?”
You shook your head. “I thought you and Maria took me home. It was Joel?” Your memories were fuzzier than you realized. 
Tommy’s lips curled in a sly smirk. “Yeah, no. It was Joel. You don’t remember anything you said to him?” You shook your head again. “Well, you were flirtin’ pretty hardcore.”
Your cheeks burned and flushed. “No,” you groaned, burying your face in your palms. 
“Oh, yes. Called him handsome left and right. Never seen him so bashful before. He was pink as a flamingo, honey,” he said. “Course, that was only at the bar. He didn’t tell me if you said anything else about your little crush when he took you home.”
“No, no. You’re lying, Tommy,” you whined. This cannot be fucking happening. What did you do? 
Tommy shook his head. “It’s the truth, I’m afraid,”
You were embarrassed. Actually, you were way past embarrassed. Mortified. Humiliated. 
Tommy could see what you were thinking, the excuses you were making up in your head. “Don’t you think about canceling dinner, now. Maria’s making your favorite pot roast, with all those carrots and potatoes,”
Your eyes were pleading with his, his own twinkling with amusement. You opened your mouth to speak, but the doctor interrupted. 
“Alright, now. Tea is for the nausea and headaches, it can be a little bitter so I’d suggest adding some honey. These pain meds will help with the throbbing,” he said. He instructed Tommy to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re hanging in there. 
You both thanked the doctor and left the infirmary then. Tommy relented his teasing, seeing as how you were so close to combusting in embarrassment. 
The week passes slowly. It’s boring, so fucking boring. You do puzzles, read your favorite books, work on your blanket you’ve been knitting. Sip your tea. And each day, all you can think about is Joel. What you said to him, what you don’t know you said to him. 
It’s Friday. Tonight’s the night you’ve been dreading all week. As you make your way to Tommy and Maria’s home, you go over your plan in your head. Just be polite, like always. Apologize to Joel and make nice. Then go home, and the next time you’re on patrol with Joel it will all be back to normal. Right?
No. Not right. 
“Hi,” you say to Joel. Tommy’s setting the table, Maria is putting the finishing touches on her meal. 
Joel only grunts in response, never once meeting your eyes. You might as well have said hi to a brick wall or a houseplant. 
“How’s your week been?” 
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Your head, uh, feelin’ any better?” He speaks like he’s in pain, like each word stings and aches as it rolls off of his tongue. 
“Yeah. It’s better, mostly. Tommy said you walked me home, and I guess–”
Joel cut you off. “Dinner’s ready,” 
Wow. So it’s like that. 
You sit next to Joel at the table, who never once speaks to you the entire meal, save for a “Pass the potatoes, please,” or “I need the gravy,” here and there. You’d never experienced such an awkward dinner before. And Joel was never your biggest fan, but he had never been so rude and short with you before. You felt it was a little undeserved, given you had no control over the situation last week.
Luckily, Tommy and Maria fill the air with conversation to make up for Joel’s shitty and impersonal attitude. Within a few hours, dinner is over. Tommy begins clearing the table as you and Joel get dressed to leave. You bid all of them goodbye, and then leave. Dinner didn’t go the way you planned, but nothing ever does. At least it was finally over. 
“Walk her home, Joel,” Maria says sternly, watching you through the window. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after icing her out all evening.” “She’s fine. Concussion healed.”
“Don’t care, brother,” Tommy interjects. “Walk her home, or you’re cleaning the stables for the next six months. Go. Think y’all have some stuff to talk about, anyway.”
“This is ridiculous,” Joel mumbles as Tommy and Maria both hug him goodbye. But he does it anyway.
He meets you a little ways away from their home, the crunch of leaves under his footsteps startling you. “Let’s move. I’m walkin’ you home again,” he says. 
“Oh, that’s nice of you,” you reply, surprised. No doubt Tommy and Maria forced him into this. 
Joel says nothing. He’s silent the entire walk home, silent as he leaves you on your porch. 
You’re in disbelief. You were expecting to maybe laugh a bit over the situation last week, but not this. Who knew Joel hated being flirted with so much? He takes quick steps, never once looking back to make sure you make it inside your home okay. 
Fuck it.
“Joel,” you call out. “Come here.”
Joel turns around, eyeing you with a frown. “What do you want now? You’re home.” 
“Come here.” your voice is stern and demanding.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, true to dramatic Joel fashion. When he steps up onto your porch and stands in front of you, he stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes are cold. “What,” he says flatly. No trouble at the end of his sentence, like he usually calls you. It stings.
“What happened last week? When you walked me home, after my concussion.”
“Nothin’. Nothin’ happened,” 
“Are you sure? Because Tommy said I was flirting with you at the bar, and I don’t know if I said something rude or what but I…” you trail off. “I don’t know. I just want to know what happened.”
Joel sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t say anything rude,” 
“Then what? What did I say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” 
“Then tell me,” 
“I said it doesn’t matter,” 
“It matters to me,”
Joel steps away from you, sitting on one of your chairs. He won’t look at your face. “Fine,” he says gruffly. “You called me handsome.” 
“Tommy told me,” you say quietly, your voice is small. “Listen-”
“About a million times, actually. It’s all you could say for a minute there,” His tone is beginning to soften, but he’s still grumpy and bothered. “Gave me a nickname, too.” “I did?” 
“You did,” 
“What was it?” you step closer to him, taking a seat in the chair next to where he’s sitting.
“Joelie,” he says. “You called me Joelie.” 
“Joelie, huh?” you mumble, half to Joel, half to yourself. “Was that all?”
Joel is looking off into the distance, the cool air is biting at his ears and nose. “No, there was a little more,”
“Are you gonna tell me?”
“No, I don’t think so. No reason to,” he pauses for a second, remembering. “I’ve got a fuckin’ bone to pick with you, though.”
“Clearly,” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “What’d I do, other than call you handsome?”
“You fuckin’ pinched me. Again,” he turns to face you. “You have a real problem keepin’ your hands to yourself, you know that?” he scolds you angrily.
You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. “You probably deserved it! You always do, you’re such a dick,” 
Joel scoffs, it’s almost a chuckle. “Maybe. I wasn’t actin’ like a dick that night, though. Not enough to warrant you pinchin’ me,”
You’re puzzled. Why else would you pinch Joel, if not as a punishment for acting like an asshole? “Then why did I pinch you?”
Joel turns red then. Like, really blushes. His ears and cheeks are bright and rosy. He’s flamingo pink, just like Tommy said. 
“Why, Joel?”
“You said I have an ass like a uh…a peach,” he whispers. “And then you–”
It’s your turn to blush now. “No,” you interrupt. “I didn’t. Joel, tell me I didn’t pinch your ass.”
He nods, silently. 
“I am so fucking sorry, Joel,” you apologize frantically. You were a fucking menace!! “Please. That was so inappropriate.”
“It’s fine, trouble. Was kinda cute, actually. You said I have eyes like coffee beans too. Never heard that one before,”
Trouble. 
“And that’s all?”
“You said you’ve got this great, big, humongous, gigantic crush on me,” he says through a sigh, his tone is defeated. Sarcastic, even. “That was really it, though.”
He doesn’t mention all the times you asked him to fuck you. He’s not a sadist, you’re embarrassed enough already. In fact, you’re so embarrassed and in your own head that you don’t even pick up on the sadness in his voice. 
You open your mouth to apologize, to explain. Joel speaks first. 
“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean any of it,”
And then he sits up, making his way to step down off of your porch. He turns to you one more time before leaving, you can’t place his expression. He looks almost sullen, almost heartbroken. 
“Goodnight, trouble.” 
He leaves. Once again, you weaseled your way too close to his heart.
And that’s the last you really speak to Joel.
You’re not on patrol with Joel very often, but he’s even quieter when you are paired up. Not in the rude kind of way like at dinner, but in a sheepish sort of way. Like he’s embarrassed, or sad, or feels nervous to speak to you. The confident, cocky Joel is long gone. He rejects all of your attempts at conversation, and it leaves you heartbroken and baffled. 
If only he knew how you felt about him. If only he’d let you speak. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It’s a chilly and rainy fall day, you and Joel are holed up in an old home on patrol together. It’s been maybe a month, a month and a half since that night on your porch.
He’s not really speaking to you, except to give you instructions here and there. You’re getting sick of his attitude. So standoffish and cold.
You wonder what went wrong that night. He was never all that friendly with you, but he was never like this. He looked right past you, like you were a phantom. Not really there.
You’re knitting your blanket, sitting on a window seat. The rain is pitter pattering against the glass. Joel is stoking the flames in the fireplace. The only sounds are the clicks of your knitting needles and the crackle of the fire. There’s a tupperware of snickerdoodles you brought for him, sitting untouched. It was your olive branch. He didn’t even thank you for them.
“What do you think of my blanket?” You hold the blanket up for him, various shades of green yarn arranged in a rippling pattern. 
Joel takes a quick glance, barely even looking, then grumbles something. 
“Joel? I didn’t hear you,”
“I said it’s fine,” he snaps at you.
You sigh, knitting your blanket furiously. What a fucking dick. “You know what? You don’t have to be such a fucking asshole all the time, you know that?”
“Fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“I said that you don’t have to be an asshole all the time,” you spit.
“I’m not–”
“You are. And I don’t even know why!” you laugh wryly. “All you do is fucking ignore me. And I don’t get it, Joel. I don’t know why I even try with you.”
Joel tries to speak, but you don’t let him. 
“I get it, okay? I made you uncomfortable when I called you handsome and pinched your ass and everything that night. I’m sorry,”
Joel is still stoking the fire, giving you no attention.
“I’m serious. I had a fucking brain injury, I had no control over my actions or my words. And I’m sorry,”
Joel’s not listening to your words. He’s so in his own head, he’s not absorbing any of it. All he hears you say is “I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t feel anything towards you,” Rub it in some more, why don’t you? I’m not in love with you and I don’t think you have nice eyes like I said.
“I do have a little crush on you, okay? You do have nice eyes and a nice nose, and you’re the most handsome man I’ve met in my life. But it doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” you snapped. “I know it made you uncomfortable because I’m too young for you or whatever, so I want you to know I am sorry. Genuinely. Can you please drop the dickhead act now?”
Joel freezes, thrown off.
“Joel,” you demand. 
“Say that again,” he says. He’s looking at you finally.
“I’m sorry,” 
“No, not that,” he waves his hand. “About my nose.”
“I like your nose,”
Joel never liked his nose. But you do. The strong shape, the freckles and scars. It fits him perfectly. “You mean that?”
“Of course. Why else would I say it?” you say bitterly. God, he is so far up his own ass you wonder if he even knows what the sun looks like.
“Why?” he asks you, a smile is threatening to curl his lips upward. 
“The shape, I don’t know. Your freckles,” you say through a sigh. “That’s what you’re getting from this? Can you please just let me apologize for harassing you?”
“No,” he responds. “Tell me more. About my eyes, again.” Joel stands up now, looking at you from a few feet away.
You shake your head. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough for him? “Why? Thought I told you they look like coffee beans,”
“Humor me,” he says, his voice low, stepping toward you now. Your heartbeat picks up its pace as he considers his next move. He sits next to you at the window seat. He’s so in love, melting into a puddle before you. God, the way you’ve ruined him.  
“You have nice eyes. Dark and deep. I like the way they shine amber in the sun,” you whisper. You can’t help the growing smile on your face, the same smile when you’re alone and thinking of Joel’s handsome face. “Happy now, asshole?”
There’s a silent moment between you both after you speak, Joel’s looking at you in a way he never has before. The butterflies in your tummy flutter a little faster now, his eyes darting back and forth between your own and your lips. 
“Joel,” you sigh, “Quit looking at me like that.” Your words are more desperate than you intend them to be. You wanted to sound more stern, like him. 
He doesn’t say anything as he carefully places his hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth against your skin. Your eyes flutter shut. 
He takes the opportunity to pull you close, his lips just millimeters away from yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I wasn’t bein’ fair to ya. You said all those things to me when you weren’t in your right mind,” he trails off, bowing his head. “I’m no good at this.”
“Try me,” you whisper back, your eyes still closed. 
“I don’t know, trouble,”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. They’re big and full of adoration and insecurity, a brutal combination. “Thought it wasn’t real?”
Joel can only nod. The man who always has something to say, suddenly choking on his words. His hand is still on your cheek, holding you steady. 
You want to kiss him, so badly. You want to kiss him with every fiber in your being. But you fight it. He’s going to be the one to kiss you, it’s going to be how you always pictured it. This, you’re certain of. 
Joel’s eyes are frantic and unsure. 
It feels like minutes. 
Hours. 
Days. 
An eternity before he finally does it. And then finally, he kisses you, slowly and gently. It takes you by surprise, sweeps you off your feet. His lips are soft and slightly chapped, he tastes so distinctly Joel. You sigh and moan against his lips as his tongue mingles with your own, you curse yourself for the desperation you exhibit. As if he cares. 
You kiss like that for a while, softly. His gentle and loving kisses are a stark contrast to his gruff and domineering personality on patrol. He’s dissolving under your lips, feeling love he’s not felt in a very long time. Everything he can’t say with his voice he says with his kisses. 
You break the kiss, trailing your lips down his jaw, the scratchy hairs of his beard feel amazing on your skin. You kiss down his neck, something you’ve fantasized about thousands of times. 
“Wait,” he rasps out. 
You pull away, noticing the tent in his jeans. “Want me to stop?”
“Yes,” he breathes. Your eyebrows raise and your head tilts slightly. “No. Not like that. I just, I want to do this right. Treat you right.”
“Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” you speak into his neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle as you continue kissing his skin, trailing back up his thick neck and nibbling at his ear. He’s panting and moaning beneath you, you never expected he’d fall apart like this. “You know,” he starts, “You told me you wanted me to fuck you when you had your concussion.” Your face grows red and you stop kissing him for a second. “Did not,”
“Did too,”
You ignore him and pretend like he didn’t just tell you that. You kiss his skin, it’s hot and slightly salty. You feel his pulse under your lips and then, you pull away. 
His brows furrow as you smile. He’s so fucking cute like this, way cuter than any fifty-something man should be. “Your turn. Tell me what you think of me, then we can continue,” 
Joel’s confidence is back and fully fledged now, it’s a welcome return. “I think you’re nothin’ but trouble. Honestly and truly,” 
“Yeah?”
“S’right. Makin’ me fat with your damn cookies. Makin’ me crazy with all your pinches. And you’ve got me fallin’ in love now. You’re a goddamn troublemaker, and I’ve known it since the day I met you,” 
It’s everything you ever wanted to hear Joel say. He’s falling for you.
He continues, “And when we get back, I get a redo. Doin’ this the right way with you, baby. Gonna make you dinner and all that. Like a gentleman,”
“You better,” you mumble, kissing him again. Your hands find their way to his jeans, fumbling with his belt. His cock grows harder beneath you, he swats your hands away and helps you free it, his member springing up between you both. 
You kneel in front of him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. You lick a long stripe from the bottom all the way to the top of his dick, swirling your tongue around the blushed tip. “Troublemaker,” he sighs. “Don’t tease me now, sweetheart. Please, baby.” His eyes are screwed shut, face contorted in pleasure.
You love the way he calls you baby. And troublemaker. And sweetheart. You’ll be his baby and his sweetheart and his troublemaker for the rest of your life. 
You take him into your mouth, tongue paining his cock with swirls of saliva. His cock parts your lips, you love the smoothness of his skin. He tastes like skin and slightly salty, you hum against him as he bucks into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,”
You bob your head up and down, making a sloppy mess of saliva all over his lap. He pulls you off, suddenly. 
“My turn,” is all he grumbles when he picks you up and drags you to the couch in front of the fireplace. He makes short work of discarding your clothes, unbuttoning your jeans and your jacket and shirt. You’re naked in front of him, suddenly feeling vulnerable. You cover your breasts and bring your knees to your chest.
He notices and promptly begins removing his own clothing. “I know, I know,” he soothes you. “Evening out the playing field and all. Don’t hide from me now, I’m gonna make it right. You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” 
He’s naked now, kneeling in front of you and spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy is wet and glistening for him, you feel his hot breath on your center. He looks at you with wide eyes, his silent way of asking permission. You answer him clearly by carding your fingertips through his scalp, tugging on his head to where you need him most. You thrust your hips towards him, begging him with your body. 
“Eager, are we?” he mumbles. “Been dreamin’ of eatin this pussy, baby.” 
“Please,” you beg him. 
“Since you asked so nicely, trouble,” 
He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t spend any time kissing and biting your thighs. He dives right in, his tongue exploring your most intimate parts. It trails up your lips, through your folds. His tongue dips in your wet hole, tasting your slick. You jolt and gasp his name at the feeling. Your thighs clamp around his head, his scratchy beard is abrasive against your flesh. You welcome the feeling. 
He parts your thighs again then, a little rougher than the first time. His tongue slides through your wetness once more, then finds home at your clit, swollen and needy. He flicks upward, alternating between long and languid licks and short and quick kitten licks. One of his hands meet your center, his middle two fingers enter your pussy and punch upward until he finds the spot that makes you tick. He hasn’t touched a woman in a long time, but still remembers all the best ways to make her see stars. 
“Fuck, like that,” you gasp out. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
Joel says nothing as he eats your pussy, sucking and licking at your center. It’s not long before you’re coming undone on his tongue, your slickness making a mess of his face. Your moans are breathy and quick, he savors each one. His eyes are wide and dark with lust.
Barely recovered from your high, you grasp and paw at his shoulders, encouraging him to come up and meet you for another kiss. You taste yourself on his lips.
“Need you now, Joelie,” you breathe, breaking the kiss. 
His nickname still sounds just as sweet as the first time you whispered it, all those nights ago. 
“‘Course, trouble. I’ve got you.” he says against your skin, his tongue darting out to play with your nipples. He’s dragging the tip of his cock through your folds. “How do you want me?”
“Just like this, please. Just fuck me,”
Your wish is his command. He slides the tip into you slowly at first, making sure it’s not too much. It’s not, of course
He pushes into you all the way, you sigh in pleasure at the fullness. He fits inside you perfectly, like he was made for you. His tip presses at that sweet spot inside you with each thrust, almost effortlessly. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moans. 
“Yeah, Joelie. Just like that, baby. Don’t stop,” 
He fucks you like that, not too hard and not too soft. A deliciously and devastatingly pleasant pace, with such care and love. 
And then the lightbulb goes off in your head. His butt!! 
How you wish you remembered pinching his ass that night. 
“Joel?” your voice is clear, not moaning or breathy. 
He stills inside you, taking heaving breaths on top of you, like it’s taking everything he’s got not to keep going. He looks at you with concern, afraid that he might have hurt you. “Everything okay? What do you need?” 
“Can I squeeze your butt?” 
Joel says nothing, just looks at you with a puzzled expression. He furrows his brows and squints at you before rolling his eyes.
Hey, at least you’re asking permission this time. 
“Please?”
“Yeah, dummy. It’s all yours, now. Don’t wear it out,” he grumbles, but you hear the playfulness in his tone. 
You giggle, reaching down to grasp a handful of his ass. It’s round, plump and fleshy. You dig your nails in slightly, pinching him a little. He winces slightly, shaking his head at your mischievous expression. Your eyes are bright and silly with your bottom lip pinned under your teeth in a grin.
“Hey now, trouble” he scolds you with a smile. “Behave.”
He kisses you, continuing his motions. His thrusts are so fluid and confident, you’re getting closer now, so is he. 
“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “Can’t hold off much longer. What do you need?”
You pull one of his hands from above your head and place it at your center. “Circles, please,” 
He adjusts his grip on the arm of the couch and moves his fingers to your clit, slick with your wetness and his spit from before. “You got it,”
His thrusts become sloppier, he’s letting out strangled gasps and groans. You’re moaning, crying his name as your orgasm begins to bloom inside of you. It’s intense and hot, it feels like sparks through your blood. 
“Joel, Joel,” is all you can say. He fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own. “Fuck, Joelie.”
“I know, I know. I’m right there. Hang on for me baby, doin’ so good,” 
With a few more shuttering thrusts he’s spilling inside of you, painting your insides with his hot come. You feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, and he slumps on top of you. His skin is hot and sweaty, you don’t mind. You’ve been dreaming of his body pinning your own down for ages. 
You stay like that, just catching your breath together. He kisses your neck as your fingertips trail up and down his back. “I love you so much, Joel,” you whisper. “I really do.”
“Love you too, sweet girl,” he says softly. You love the way his voice sounds here, soft and gentle. All for you and no one else. 
He pulls out of you then, you whine at the loss. He lunges off the couch to reach for the tupperware container of snickerdoodles you baked for him.  
He pulls off the lid, grabbing a handful of cookies and shoving one in his mouth. Apparently Joel was still a typical man, snacking after sex. 
You giggle, grab a cookie of your own and kiss his cheek. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to watch the flames in the fireplace dance. 
“God, you’re evil,” he says, his voice muffled by the cookies in his mouth. “Force feedin’ me cookies and makin’ me fat.”
“Busted. You got me,” you say, smiling. “Gotta keep your ass nice and squeezable, hm? It was my devious plan all along. You figured it out, Sherlock.”
“Shut up. Fuckin’ troublemaker,”
tags:
@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @@spideysimpossiblegirl
(if you don't see your @, i got rid of the ones tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Leave me a comment if you'd like to be on the taglist!)
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
Text
Are you scared of me, Princess?
Jasper Hale x human!reader
Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.
Words: 1,646
Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing
Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.
Masterlist <3
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Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.
They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried. 
But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.
It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in. 
The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.
But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust. 
Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.
Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.
She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.
Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.
She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her. 
He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.
She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”
His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.
Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-
“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”
She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”
He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”
She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.
He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.
He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”
She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm. 
He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”
He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.
“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”
Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”
He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain. 
He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper. 
“Stronger than Emmett?”
He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”
A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”
His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”
“How?”
“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”
He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”
Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”
He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”
She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her. 
He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”
She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”
He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.
“You don’t know that, Princess.”
She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.
She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.
He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.
Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his. 
He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect. 
His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still. 
They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other. 
She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life. 
She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.
He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.
His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his. 
The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched. 
They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.
“You’re not afraid of me.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him. 
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joelslastofus · 3 months
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[SUMMARY: Joel suffers a PTSD episode of when Sarah was killed and accidentally hurts you.]
PTSD, Angst, physical violence.
“Did you see the way she looked at me?” Joel stopped and looked down as he took a deep breath.
“I could’ve really hurt her, Tommy”
It was late in the night and you woke up realizing Joel wasn’t in bed beside you. Joel never left your side without letting you know where he would be, especially in the night. Tonight it was strange, you woke up careful not to wake up Tommy or Ellie who were in their own rooms down the hall. You could hear a faint mumbling coming from the living room and silently followed the sound.
Stepping into the main room you could see Joel facing out the window and still mumbling something to himself that you couldn’t make out.
“Joel?” You whispered as you walked towards him but he didn’t respond.
“Joel?” You gently touched his arm when he suddenly grabbed you by yours and slammed you against the wall. You whimpered as he took hold of your face in his large hand and looked at you with eyes you did not recognize.
“You killed my daughter” he squeezed your face as you looked up at him with horror and confusion.
“Joel!” You screamed as his hand moved to your throat with a tight squeeze. You gasped for air hitting his chest when the lights suddenly turned on and you heard Maria’s voice.
“Tommy!” She screamed out for him, the second he heard her voice he came running out.
“Shit” he uttered before grabbing Joel from behind and putting him in a choke hold.
“It’s me! It’s Tommy!, I’m gonna let you go just calm down, I need you to listen to me-“ Joel tried to fight it at first but slowed down as Tommy bought him to the ground. You coughed gasping for air as Maria ran to you making sure you were ok, your hand on your chest you couldn’t believe what had just happened. Looking back at Joel you could see he wasn’t himself, he didn’t notice anyone around him.
“Joel, you hear me?” Tommy yelled when suddenly Joel broke down in tears as Tommy let him go.
“It’s alright brother, it’s alright. Just another nightmare” you watched as Tommy comforted his brother as you stood still trying to catch your breath when Joel suddenly looked up at you, his face instantly changing realizing what he had just done.
“Oh my god” Joel pushed himself up coming towards you. You panicked quickly backing away as Maria got inbetween both of you.
“Hold on a minute, Joel. Give a her a minute”
Looking at him, all you could see was big brown tearful eyes.
“Jesus Christ, I hurt you-“ he spoke in shock with himself.
“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to“ he spoke with desperation looking over Marias shoulder. Never had you seen him look so vulnerable before. You had no idea how to respond but you could see how distraught he was.
“Let me take her to the room, just stay here for a bit with Tommy,” Maria quickly turned to you guiding you to the bedroom as you silently cried without turning back.
Tommy could tell Joel felt horrible, watching him pace back and fourth in the living room not knowing what the hell to do with himself.
“You didn’t do it on purpose, Joel”
“Did you see the way she looked at me?” Joel stopped and looked down as he took a deep breath.
“I could’ve really hurt her, Tommy”
“Look, you had a nightmare about that night and you haven’t had one in a long time alright, you weren’t looking to hurt her” Tommy explained.
You could hear them in the living room talking as Maria closed the door.
“He’s never had a nightmare with me. I don’t know what happened” you whispered as you looked at yourself in the mirror, bruising already forming around your neck.
“He told me about them but I thought…I thought he was doing better now. I shouldn’t have walked up behind him like that” you whispered shaking your head.
“Look, it’s not your fault or his. Maybe it best you two don’t sleep together tonight, I can stay with you if you’d like.” You nodded in a bit of relief.
“Thank you, Maria” you whispered as she left the room to let them know.
Joel instantly looked up as Maria walked towards them.
“How is she?” He asked eagerly walking towards her.
“She’s a little startled Joel. I think it’s best I stay with her for tonight, you both get some rest and talk about it tomorrow.”
“She needs to know I didn’t mean to do that, she knows that don’t she?”
Maria simply nodded before walking back to the room and closing the door.
The next morning you were too anxious to leave your room, you waited until you heard everyone leave. Fixing yourself up you did your best to cover the bruising on your neck with your long dark hair when you heard a knock. You head turning so fast you winced at the slight soreness you felt. You thought everyone had left, at least you hoped.
“If you don’t wanna open the door, that’s fine. I just need you to listen” Joel’s voice on the other end made you take a deep breath. Slowly walking towards the door you unexpectedly opened it, surprising him as he looked down at you. You hadn’t realized moving your neck so quickly your hair was no longer covering the bruise, allowing Joel to see the harm he’d done. His jaw clenched and you quickly noticed what he was looking at and moved your hair to cover it. Joel thought he was ready to say something, but seeing what his hands had done to you he was left with no words.
“I’m not mad at you” you assured him with a soft whisper.
“You didn’t deserve that” he looked down taking a shaky deep breath flaring his nostrils.
Joel was angry with himself in a way he had never been before.
“I’m fine” you barely sounded convincing to yourself.
“What if Tommy wasn’t there-what if-“ he couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought of anything happening to you he simply couldn’t take.
“You know I would never do anything to you like that purposely right? I swear, baby if I knew it was you-“
“Joel, I know” you assured him with tears in your eyes. You could see the guilt he felt eating away at him.
“Let’s just forget this happened” you caressed the side of his face with a smile he could see right through.
“Shoot, sorry-“ Ellie suddenly appeared through the door catching you both by surprise.
“I was just gonna head to my room” she furrowed her brows taking a better look at you.
“Hey what the heck happened to you?” You quickly covered your neck with your hand turning away as Joel took a step towards Ellie, covering her view of you.
“Ellie please go to your room”
“Ooook then” she raised her brows walking backwards as she stepped inside and closed her door. When Joel turned back he realized you had walked into the room and quickly followed. Your back to him you quickly wiped away any tears before he could see.
“Hey” he reached out to your arm making you unexpectedly jump. The sight of you even the slightest bit afraid of him broke him. He a took a step back but all he really wanted to do was hold you.
“You want me to go?”
“No” you quickly responded turning to him.
“Stay” you gently reached your arm out to his hand taking hold of it.
“I’m fine, I promise” you took a deep breath and smiled but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. To reassure him you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him, it took everything in him to keep his hands to himself afraid he would scare you off.
“Hold me” he looked you in your eyes and without saying a word you slowly felt his hands grab onto your waist.
“See? We’re ok” you smiled as he furrowed his brows.
“It wont ever happen again, I promise you that” he meant what he said and you trusted his word but in all reality, how could he be so sure? Not saying what you were thinking you nodded and lay your head on his chest as he held you silently against him..
708 notes · View notes
lovrsm · 3 months
Text
ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ
sum: The story from media pov for the GORGEOUS writingg, I had so much fun making these! let me know if you want part two ad Happy New Years Day!
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader
warning: gossip and typos🫨
Media AU
Spotify - Apple Music
ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ
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y/n_norris
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Liked by landonorris and 729,405 others
y/n_norris Took you long enough, not trying to call you all blind but… I definitely am😛🫨
view all 895 comments
y/n.fan not her laughing at us fools 😭
user92 did she just called us blind?😦
user892 I mean… she’s not wrong 🤷‍♂️
F1 That was quite a surprise 😅
norris.wow YOU DIDNT KNOW EITHER?
F1 Trust us, none of us did.
landonorris 😈
user1943 Lando woke up and chose violence today
user88 He surely did.
October 12 2020
landonorris
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Liked by y/n_norris, charles_leclerc and 203,042 others
landonorris Everyone knows the oldest is the hottest. Sorry peanut🤗
View all 4 comments (restriction)
y/n_norris Mum was not happy seeing the caption
landonorris just saying facts
y/n_norris you know lying is wrong, Lando 😞
landonorris 🙄
October 12 2020
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y/n_norris
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Liked by F1 , landonorris and 579,901 others
y/n_norris 🥳
tagged landonorris & francisca.cgomes
View all 8,902 comments
francisca.cgomes 💃 ❤️
y/n_norris 💗
user829 manifestation came quickly
user103 I DID IT. No need to thank me guys🤭
landonorris don’t steal my friends 😭
pierregasly Dont steal my girlfriend 🥲
francisca.cgomes Late
y/n_norris Late
December 1 2020
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y/n_norris
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Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, landonorris and 689,0821 others
y/n_norris …so it goes like this, you ask I provide, I don’t think any of you are ready, or are you? 🖤
view all 18,028 comments
charles_leclerc can’t wait to know!
liked by the creator
user91 PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE READING THIS. HUH?!? HUUUH?!!
user819 No one pinch me. Let me live here. 🤫
user10 IS THIS HAPPENING?!?!😧😧😧 AND Y/N LIKED🤯🤯
landonorris NO EXPLANATION…🫨
liked by creator
user301 I love this duo fr😭🫶
user182 Lando tell me whats going on I don’t understand🤥
user76 TF do you mean charles leclerc knows what is happening. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!
user23 they’re in love (manifesting)
user35 PLEASE. 😩😩
January 19 2021
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y/n_norris
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Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, F1, scuderiaferrari, redbullracing and 1,017,921 others
y/n_norris I’ll stop playing with you guys, I love seeing how freaked out you are about my posts. Anyway, Reputation out June 16! With all of our love and dedication…🖤
tagged jackantanoff
view all 2,838 comments
user39 not @charles_leclerc liking the second this comes out😭 please HAHA
jackantanoff it was more than a pleasure working with you two!🔥
liked by creator
y/n_norris hope we see you again😉
charles_leclerc 🔥🔥
user189 THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN JACK?! YOU MEAN Y/N AND CHARLES?!?!! I am screaming right now holy shit.
user810 HUH, HUH?!?! WHAT DID I MISS.
user298 Charles is a master at piano, I just know that´s what this means
liked by creator
user09 y/n just gave you a like, I’m a 100% sure you’re right.
user76 Any of you notices lando gave us spoilers? “no explanation…🫨
user5 HE IS A MASTERMIND (tell me you got it 😔)
charles_leclerc 🖤
liked by creator
scuderiaferrari Can’t wait to hear this!
redbullracing Same here 👈
mclaren she’s with us, remember?
mercedesamgf1 we will need much more speakers, we are listening to this 🔝
scuderiaferradi yk maroon is just another tone of red, right? (y/n please, we loveee you)
F1 Signing y/n to do a show at this point 😇
lewishamilton please do🙏
liked by creator
maxverstappen1 y/n, when are we doing a duet? P would love it.
y/n_norris anything for P!🫶
carlossainz55 I can sing like maria carey, just throwing that out there…
liked by creator
user819 I just love every single F1 interaction here.🥺
April 16 2021
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jackantanoff
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liked by charles_leclerc, y/n_norris, sabrinacarpenter and 298,920 others
jackantanoff it was a pleasure working (and thirdweeling) with you two, this 4 months have been absolutely crazy, and I hope this isn’t the end of our journey😤🖤🔥
tagged charles_leclerc & y/n_norris
view all 1,182 comments
charles_leclerc amazing work pal, thank you for everything! 🔥
liked by creator
y/n_norris we love you jack, thank you for supporting and having with us this crazy adventure 🫶
jackantanoff you still have to pay my therapy, those lyrics MEAN something and I was mostly there for it. I can’t unsee what I have seen.
user10 NUH UH, JACK HARD LAUNCHING AND HAVING TRAUMA BECAUSE OF THESE TWO?! 💀💀 dying.
user93 Jack knows what to give to the people, we LOVE you Jack, thank you for these pictures 😊
liked by creator
user46 I'm confused, what did Charles do? Play the piano or f- and be the muse of y/n
y/n_norris BOTH. (All the background piano was recorded by Charlie, he did an amazing job!)
user87 This is so cute, UGH
June 20 2022
charles_leclerc
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liked by jackantanoff, y/n_norris, vancityreynolds, blakelively, lewishamilton and 982,039 others
charles_leclerc thank you @jackantanoff, the soft launch is now ruined. Anyhow, look at this GORGEOUS woman I get to call mine❤️ Je t'aime, ma princesse, ma seule et unique.
tagged y/n_norris
y/n_norris ❤️❤️❤️
vancityreynolds y/n, he wrote you a whole ass paragraph and you just wrote this? Disappointed 😔
charles_leclerc DID YOU JUST COMMENT ON MY POST?!😨 y/n I’m freaking out.
y/n_norris sorry DAD🙄, just reminding you I wrote a whole album abt him. Charles is kindly asking when are we going out together? (I need to see @blakelivley)
blakelivley see you in a few days you lovebirds 😉
user991 HAHAHA charles freaking out abt Blake and Ryan commenting is so real🤓🤓
landonorris 🎶there is always a duo in a trio🎶 and, y/n EW THE SONGS?!
y/n_norris Grow up lando 😤
landonorris I don’t need to hear how good Charles is in bed, E. W. 🤢🤕
charles_leclerc sorry mate😅😅
user918 💀
-
PART TWO?!?!
-
Taglist
@delicatepeanutsublime @leclercera16 @ironspdy @architect-2015 @buendiabebeta @zlut1r
443 notes · View notes
5oh5 · 2 months
Text
warm water
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pairing: neighbor and best friend!frankie x f!reader summary: frankie offers a helping hand when you’re not feeling too well wc: 1.6k rating: general, you’re safe. tags: not many, just two best friends in love nothing to see here, reader is on her period and still has to be a boss ass bitch because that’s life, no lady, no baby a/n: I know I said that queen of the night was getting a part two, and it very much is, but I decided it needed a little more time to cook, and inspo struck this morning when I looked at @iamasaddie’s moodboard again (thanks for letting me edit it to match my others, my brain thanks you 🫶🏻). thanks too for setting up this ✏️ writing challenge, you make the loveliest moodboards!! can’t wait for the next one ✨ @adamantiumspy I love you for always indulging me (and for everything else) | divider by @saradika-graphics
main masterlist | read on AO3 | notifs blog
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“Are you on your way out?” Frankie’s voice filters through the receiver. Your phone is tucked between your shoulder and your cheek as you pull up your dress pants and fasten them.
“No, not yet, still getting dressed. You’ve got time.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in two minutes. Sorry, should have just come by last night.”
“No, it’s okay Frankie, really. If it wasn’t for this fucking meeting I wouldn’t even be worried.”
You pull a tee-shirt over your head and bring the phone back to your ear to hear his reply. “Okay, if you’re sure. See you in a minute.”
“I’ll be here.”
As you hang up the phone, another cramp seizes in your belly. Early blood, and you’ve already had to throw your sheets in a cold wash. You want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and pull the blankets up over your face, disappearing from a world cruel enough to make you feel this shitty this often. 
Before opening your eyes, you’d mentally run through the options as you snoozed your alarm, but there’s no avoiding this day. There’s a regional meeting at work, funders from Miami and scientists from the other building are coming into your office to be debriefed on the project’s progress. You can’t miss it, as much as you sure would like to. You pull your white blouse from the closet, assess the wrinkles. If only you hadn’t lent your iron to Frankie last week. He had a date, and when he told you about it you insisted he iron that fucking shirt, Francisco, you’re taking her to Chez Maria not the corner hotdog stand. 
Did you want to see him go out on a date? Impress another girl while you sit at home? Not particularly. It spread like warmth through your chest, ached in your bones when you dwelled on it too long. Your friendship was so comfortable…so easy. It was late nights laughing at reality television, splitting the bill at restaurants, giving each other shit about relationships and one-night stands, texting updates when traveling. It was risking too much, putting too much on the line. You loved him, and he loved you, but not like that. Swallowing that familiar acidity in your throat, you asked him how the date was when you saw his truck pull up to his place four hours later. It was fine, he said. You took the fact that he came home alone as a real answer.
In two minutes, as promised, he’s there.
“Here you are, señora,” he says as he hands the iron to you across the threshold, holding it out in his open palms like an offering. 
“Thanks, silly,” you laugh, and he smiles. “You can come in if you want, the kettle’s on.”
He nods and follows you into your home, and you try not to notice the way the soft morning light plays on his features through your windows. It makes him look so domestic, standing here in your living room as the sun drifts its way up into the sky. It wouldn’t be the first time; he’d spent many nights on your couch, having fallen asleep during another movie he picked out but didn’t make it through.
Another cramp grips your abdomen, and you lean forward and brace yourself on the counter as you’re walking back into the kitchen, setting the iron down on the granite.
“Shit, you okay?” he asks, eyebrows knit together in concern as he places a hand on your arm. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” you grit through your teeth, taking shallow breaths and willing the pain to pass. 
“You look it,” he says sarcastically, though worried, and you glower at him. 
“I have to be,” you insist. The cramp eases and you straighten up, grabbing the iron and filling the reservoir with water under the sink. His fingertips fall from your shirt sleeve.
“Where is it? I’ll grab it.”
You tell him, and he disappears into your bedroom, coming back a moment later with your shirt on the hanger as the iron heats up on the counter. 
“You sure you’re alright?” he asks again, eying the way your hand rests on your lower stomach.
“Really, Frankie. I’m okay,” you sigh, the heat from your hand doing little to soothe the rolling pain. Your fingers shake as you drop a tea bag into your to-go mug. 
Frankie leans against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, the hanger with your shirt still hooked over one of his fingers.
“Can you come home after the meeting’s done?” he asks as you hand him a mug.
“Maybe, depends on how it goes I guess.”
You don’t say much else, both of you standing in comfortable silence as you plop a tea bag in his mug and fill it with hot water. The light on the iron blinks and turns green. The room is bright, the sun pouring in and splaying across your floor. You let your mind wander to a different reality, one where every morning starts this way, filling mugs of tea for the two of you. You think about how he’d come up behind you and rest his chin on your shoulder, wrap his arms around you and pour the water himself.
“Here,” he says, uncrossing his arms and suspending the hanger from his fingers. You grab the iron and click the button, steam pouring out of the metal plate. He keeps the shirt in his hand, holding it up and steady so you can work. When all the wrinkles have released and the shirt is smooth and warm, you turn to thank him. His eyes quickly shift back to the shirt when you meet his eyes.
“Of course,” he reassures. “S’what friends are for.”
The meeting goes smoothly. They’re impressed, thank god. Only one backhanded compliment from Mark, but that was to be expected. You had to consciously relax your stomach muscles several times during the presentation, trying not to let your voice waver when the cramps would roll through. Adrenaline helped a little, like your body knew to hold off.
Back at your desk, your body tries to make up for lost time with a particularly gut-twisting cramp, and your breath goes shallow. 
“Honey, go home,” Teresa says softly, her eyes ticking to the way your hand grips at your middle. “I’ll take care of these chumps. You’ve done what you needed to.”
You consider pushing through, worried that guilt will gnaw at you all day if you go. As you stand and contemplate, your phone buzzes against the wood of your desk. Frankie. How’d the meeting go? You going home? For some reason, at that, your eyes start to sting. He’s such a good friend. You know he was watching the clock, waiting for it to tick over to ten when your meeting ended. He’s such a good friend…The thought of him makes your mouth go dry. Has it always been this hard?
“Yeah, okay,” you concede, and Teresa offers a reassuring smile.
“Good. Don’t worry about things here, they’ll be gone before lunch.”
You turn the key in the lock, ready to collapse. When you open the door and swing yourself inside, you see a mop of curls poking out over the back of your couch. Frankie springs to his feet. 
“Hey,” he smiles.
“Hey!” you say in surprise. He has a key, but you didn’t expect to see him. “Don’t you have work?”
“Nah, took the day,” he smiles. Something imperceptible changes the colors in his eyes, and his features soften as he shifts his weight. “Thought maybe you needed someone to look after you.”
Your body reacts to his words, your heart dropping from your chest in a free fall. He keeps talking, babbling a little nervously. “Not that you need it, I mean, I know you can take care of yourself, I just thought—”
“That’s—” you start, interrupting his spiral, dropping your work bag on the floor. “That’s really sweet, Francisco.”
He smiles, and the sight makes your breath hitch. “I started a bath for you when you said you were coming. Hopefully it’s not cold yet.” His eyes are so soft, warm honey, and you want to throw your arms around him. You could cry from relief at the idea of sinking into warm water, and maybe some of that feeling is from him too. 
“I can go, if you want, I don’t wanna—”
“No,” you stop him. The idea of him walking out that door is worse than leaving your house this morning. “You don’t have to go.”
He nods, looks down at the floor as his eyes smile. 
“Thank you, Frankie, really.”
“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, but it’s not nothing. Not to you. Frankie has done more for you over the years than any boyfriend ever has, cooking for you, bringing you medicine when you’re sick, running errands for you when you don’t get the chance, listening when you talk about work and friend drama, coming over to help you replace the batteries in your smoke detector, spotting you when it’s hard to get to the next paycheck. Never once has he made you feel like a burden, and that’s more than you could say for a lot of people in your life. “Let me come make sure it’s hot enough.”
You want to say you can check the water yourself, but if you’re honest you don’t want to be away from him. Don’t want to let him out of your sight. You nod, and he starts towards the bedroom. 
In the en-suite, he tests the water with his fingers. “Needs a bit more, I think,” he assesses, kneeling against the side of the tub and pulling the plug to let a little water out before turning the hot water tap on again. “Started it a little soon I guess.”
“Thank you, Frankie. You’re the best.”
He smiles up at you softly through thick lashes, and you hope he can’t read your face or feel the heat radiating from under your skin, but you know better. 
“The best for the best,” he replies, soft swirls of pink inching up his neck. When he’s satisfied with the temperature of the water, he stands up, knees cracking. He heads for the door, saying “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. You hungry?”
“Frankie,” you whisper, your mouth moving faster than your brain. It’s now or never.
“Yeah?”
“Stay.”
thank you for reading! 🫶🏻
352 notes · View notes
bluetimeombre · 1 month
Text
⭒❃.✮:▹Call it what you want to, part 4!
[finally!! Here’s part 4, sorry it took so long to get up, I’ve been working on many other things that I want to share. Hope you like this one, the next part will be the final FINAL]
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liked by... tchalamet, florencepugh, zendaya, tomblyth, tayrussell & others
yourusername: happy birthday tchalamet!! one of these days you'll bring back lil timmy tim. see you soon!!
1.1m likes 603k comments
user: 'see you soon?!' they're happening!
user: yourusername being the biggest timmy tim fan is the best thing ever
user: i love them
tchalamet: thank you daisy, my daisy
yourusername liked his comment
tchalamet: can't wait to see you
user: ur honour, they're in live
user: HE CALLS HER MY DAISY LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS IN WONKA IM DECEACED
user: hate to be tom rn
user: catch up, they're not together
user: they're not!?
user: happy birthday timmy
user: she's so sweet, urg love her
user: parents
user: i LOVED WONKA
user: isn't timmy in new york and she's been seen alone in london? does that mean they're going to each other
user: we are being fed
user: i swear he was just with kylie
user: they're so cute, you can tell timothee is so in love with her
⭒❃.✮:▹
timothee chalamet is texting ... you
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⭒❃.✮:▹
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tchalamet posted on his story…
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Caption, 28!
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liked by … tomblyth, joshandresrivera, tchalamet, zendaya & others
yourusername: nyc, treat me kindly xoxo
903k likes 655k comments
user: cute!!!!
user: dying rn
user: they’re together for the new year!!! r u kidding me!!!
user: looks like we know what timmy has planned for new years
user: PLS THEYRE so cute
user: no hate to my parents or I’ll kill you
user: mom, I’m going back to dads house
tomblyth: is that my shirt?
yourusername: u mean the shirt you LITERALLY gave me, stfu
user: not together my ass!!!!
user: tomblyth and yourusername all the way
user: she went to new york for his birthday and for new years, she’s in love with him
user: tchalamet and yourusername >>>
user: her and tom are so cute but as friends
user: her and timmy are literal goals
⭒❃.✮:▹
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user: GUYS!!! LOOK AT THEM AHH, tchalamet and yourusername at his apartment in New York! They’re so IN LOVE
101k likes 45k comments
user: WHAT
user: what about Tom :(((((
user: she basically just lied in her vanity fair to make herself not look like a whore
user: slut
user: awwww I love them
user: she’s leading tom on
user: she was literally making out with tom like two months ago
user: how could she do this?
user: timmy needs to leave her
user: save timmy!
⭒❃.✮:▹
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liked by…. yourusername, tchalamet, rachelzegler & hunterschafer
tomblyth: if you don’t have anything nice to say about one of my favourite FRIENDS then kindly shut the fuck up
1.3m likes comments restricted
⭒❃.✮:▹
taglist: @darlingisntit @hazzapotter @gotta-go-now @lucy-loaf @drewskeyyx @ennycutie @sparklingsounds @hoely-maria @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!
354 notes · View notes
rosepascal · 11 months
Text
you don't belong || Joel Miller x reader
summary: You really like Joel, more than you've ever liked someone before. But the most important person in his life absolutely hates your guts and you have no idea what to do.
warnings: angst to fluff, swearing, break up/make up. possibly OOC Joel.
a/n: Ahhhh this is my first longer fic in a hot second!! I did this instead of writing a final paper so I hope you enjoy <33
taglist: @avengersfan25
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Joel and Ellie were family. To anyone it’s easy to see just how much the two of them truly care for each other. They don’t say it. Instead they tell each other in other ways. Their close bond is why you so desperately wanted Ellie to like you.
She’s a tough kid with a smart mouth and you admired her for it. You didn’t expect to be welcomed into their small family dynamic easily. In fact you didn't plan on it at all. Months were spent dancing around each other, sending flirty looks and sharing quiet moments when time would allow it.
The kiss, the first time either of you did something about the growing attraction, was short and sweet and happened in the middle of the night in his living room. You wanted something with Joel and he wanted it too.
The day he asked you on an official date was the happiest day you’ve had in a long time. But there was one major problem. Ellie hated you. You tried to win her over, or at least get her to not glare at you the moment she saw you.
When Joel would see you in town with Ellie by his side he’d light up and for a moment you’d forget everything and smile back. Then your eyes drifted to the side and you saw the annoyed look on Ellies face. Her eyes refuse to even meet yours.
Then it all comes crashing down again.
A peace offering, that’s what you were offering. Walking up to his house knowing he wasn’t there was a risk. But you cared a lot about Joel and you didn’t want this tension between you and Ellie anymore. If you could show her that she could trust you, that you weren’t trying to hurt either of them. Then maybe things would get better.
“Joel’s not here.” She opens the door and stares you down. She glances at the small bowl in your hands filled with fresh strawberries that you sneaked from the gardens. Joel had told you strawberries were her favorite so you hoped this would help. She hasn't slammed the door in your face yet so that's progress.
“I know, these are for you.” You offer the bowl to her but she doesn’t take it.
“Why?”
“Can I come in?” You ask gently.
The hope slowly fading as she seems more closed off than ever. Without a word she rolls her eyes and leaves the door open. Walking away towards the living room. Stepping inside you place the bowl on the kitchen counter and find her reading a book.
“Ellie, I was hoping we could talk.” You sit on the couch near her, nails digging into your knees.
“About what?” At times like this she really does resemble Joel. That ice cold look from her makes you shiver.
“Look I know you don’t like me and I’m not trying to force anything between us.” You start, nerves taking over as she sets down her book. Her face unchanging as she listens to you.
“But I really care about Joel and you…I just. I don’t want things to be this weird between us.” She clenches her fist and snaps at you.
“If you really cared then you’d leave us alone!” She knows deep down that you haven’t done anything to hurt Joel but you could eventually.
You could show up and take all his attention away and leave him broken. You could want him to change himself to fit the town standards or ruin what the two of them have already built. It took a while for her to truly trust Tommy and Maria and they were Joel’s real family.
You aren’t.
“Ellie…” You try not to let her words hurt you but they do.
“We don’t need you okay? I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to hurt you Ellie but-” You try but again she cuts you off. She's angry, shouting and finally letting it all out. Fear clouding her judgement as she hurls words that sting hard.
"I don’t care. Don’t pretend like you actually care about me when all you want is Joel.”
“That’s not true.” You say firmly.
“We’re happy without you, so just fuck off and leave us alone.” She storms upstairs and slams the door, shaking the whole house with it.
Pushing the palms of your hand to your eyes you try to suppress the tears. It’s clear that no matter what you do, she’ll never even tolerate you.
You love Joel but you can’t force yourself into their life. No matter how much it hurts. Ellie is everything to him. Wiping your eyes you stand up and open the door to leave.
“Baby?” You freeze at the sound of his voice.
Looking up you find Joel walking up to the door, a confused look on his face. He clocks the tears in your eyes immediately. His hands cup your face gently.
“I think we should break up.”
“What? Why?” He asks bewildered, hell just yesterday the two of you met for lunch and now you’re breaking up with him. You pull his hands away from your face but he grabs onto your wrists before you can leave.
“Baby please…Tell me what’s wrong.” His eyes go wide and fearful as you yank your hands away.
“I’m sorry Joel.” Every step you take away from Joel feels like a crack in your heart until it finally breaks.
Tears blur your vision as you slam the door to your horribly empty house. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while and now it's gone. But it’s for the best, it’s for him. For Ellie.
At least that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep that night. 
- - - -
Life without Joel has been hell. You desperately missed him and while you managed to go back to appearing like nothing ever happened, deep down you were miserable. You missed the small dates and sweet talks. Now instead of getting butterflies when you see him you get a gaping hole in your chest. 
Joel wasn’t doing much better. Not that he showed it though. At least not in a very clear way. He took longer patrols, more dangerous routes. Started spending more time in his house than he used to. Even snapping at people more than usual. He’s turned into even more of an asshole and it was driving Ellie crazy.
After the talk the two of you had, she calmed down a bit. Still convinced she did the right thing but things did feel off still. She knew that you leaving was the cause of his lashing out. She wanted to protect him but now it feels like she’s ruined it all.
Thank god for Maria putting them on patrol together, much to Joel's annoyance. He hates when she goes on Patrol even though she’s more capable than half the adults in town. The air that’s normally filled with questions is now just silence between the two. 
“Hey Joel, is all this about...You know.” She asks. Her grip tightening on her gun as she walks side by side with Joel.
“No.” His reply is short and his tone doesn’t leave much room for any follow up but she pushes anyway.
“Then what’s gotten up your ass lately?” Joel rolls his eyes and keeps walking. He’s not particularly interested in discussing his failed romances right now.
There’s a small trickle of guilt that builds in Ellie as she takes in the state of Joel. Sure to most people he doesn’t look any different, still the same stone faced guy they see everyday. But Ellie knows him much better than most people.
Something’s wrong and it has to do with you. She didn’t mean to snap at you, but the protectiveness she feels for Joel outweighed any guilt at the time. Ellie stops and sighs.
There’s a nearby broken down fence that she puts her weight against. Her and Joel aren’t good at these kinds of talks.
“Hear somethin?” Joel raises his gun slightly higher, eyes darting around for any signs of people.
”I uh..It’s my fault. That they ran away.” Joel slings his gun across his back and crosses his arms. Not fully grasping what she’s saying.
“I said some things and I think it’s why they stopped talking to you.” A sudden realization dawns on him and his arms fall to his sides.
“Now why’d you do that?” His voice is a lot calmer than she expected and honestly that’s scarier. She shifts from side to side as she tries to find the right words.
“I’ve had a lot of people in my life…” She starts. “And those people have left. Except for you.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Joel says and she nods. She knows that. Really. He’s proven that in his own ways.
“Letting someone else in is hard and I didn’t want it all to. Disappear.” Joel’s silent, processing it all for a moment. Leaves crunch under his boots as he walks over to Ellie. Leaning against the old fence and stares out at Jackson.
The two of them don't really do sappy moments. They don't hold each other and cry and blubber on about how much they love each other, but that doesn't mean they don't know it. How much they mean to each other and how scary the idea of it going away can be.
“It don’t matter who comes through our lives ‘cause nothin’s gonna change between us. Ever. Alright?” His hand rests next to Ellies, a small smile on his face that she doesn’t see.
“That mean I’m stuck with your old ass forever?”
“More like I’m stuck with you, now let’s finish this damn thing so we can go eat.” Joel pushes off the fence and offers his hand out to Ellie who takes it.
Together they move a little faster and walk a little closer, ready to be done with patrol. 
- - - -
You didn’t expect the knock at your door on a random afternoon. Opening the door you’re met with the last person you expected to see. Ellie.
“Uh Hi,” You quickly step to the side to let her in, confused on why she’s here when she couldn’t even look at you before.
“Is something wrong?” Your brain jumps to the worst, if she was here willingly then something must have happened.
“No. I uh. I’m here to apologize.” She seems uncomfortable as she looks around your house. Here eyes settling on one of Joel’s jackets that you haven’t given back yet.
“I shouldn’t have said those things to you and…I didn’t mean it.”
“Ellie,” You say softly. Yes her words hurt but she’s just a kid.
“Joel means a lot to you and I get why you felt that I was, stepping into somewhere I didn’t belong.”
“But you do belong!” She says quickly. "You make him happy." You can tell she’s really trying and it makes you feel better about it all.
“I think we should start over, really get to know each other.” You offer knowing that things can’t become perfect overnight but the two of you can try.
“I’d like that.” Hesitantly you squeeze her shoulder in a loving way, hoping that you aren’t overstepping.
“Well now that we’re friends, I know a guy who’s been a real dick since you left.” You laugh and she does too. It’s a nice sound.
“I’ll take care of that, you alright to walk home?” She nods and you lead her to the door.
Ellie stops for a second before smiling back at you. As she walks off the dread of the last few weeks seems to have lifted. You don’t know what happened but you’re glad it did.
Wasting no time, you hurry to the barns, knowing Joel feeds the sheep on Wednesdays. He’s sitting by the pasture. Watching them with a peaceful look on his face.
“Joel.” You say breathlessly. His head whips around, eyes wide in shock.
“What’re you doin here?” He stands and walks over to you. His arms wrapping around your waist as if nothing had ever happened.
“Ellie came over and we talked, she told me that you’ve been miserable without me.” Placing your hands on his chest you lean closer into his arms. You missed being held by him so much.
“Did she now? Tell you anything else?” He asks.
Shaking your head you gently cup his face and pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, chasing that feeling he’s missed for weeks. 
“Missed you so much.” He mumbles against your lips. His soft brown eyes staring deep into your own.
“Come over tonight,” and never leave. That house of his is too big for two people anyways.
“I’d love to.” His arms don’t budge as the sheep baa loudly, wanting to make up for lost time.
“Need to introduce the two of you properly. Have some family bonding time.”
“Am I family now?” You ask teasingly, though your heart leaps at the idea. You’d love to be considered so important to Joel.
“No doubt about it baby,” He kisses your forehead gently. Sometimes things change and people come and go, but there’s no way in hell Joel’s ever going to let his little family go.
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roosterforme · 4 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 21 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You keep yourself as busy as you can with your friends while your husband is away. Bradley starts to learn that this top secret special mission comes with a very specific set of risks and very few details. But the details he does have make it clear that he's never faced anything like this before.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, masturbation, fluff, mentions of hostages
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You sat in the driver's seat of the Bronco until Bradley's transport was completely out of sight, and you were just squinting into the brightening sky. It was getting late, and you needed to head to work, but the weird mix of emotions inside you was making it hard to even reach for the keys in the ignition and start the engine. 
Bradley was excited about his mission; you knew that for a fact. He couldn't hide it from you when he talked about it, and you wouldn't even want him to. If this is what it was going to take for him to get back into a confident groove at work, then you were happy to send him off into the sky. But it was still impossible not to worry about him. 
You made the trip back home and got yourself dressed in your uniform after you took Tylenol for your cramps. You kissed Tramp and said, "When I get home later, we can watch a movie." Then you took your little red car to work and walked up to your office. 
While Bradley was away, you planned on using this time to catch up with your friends a little bit more. Maria and Cam were the best kinds of friends who could just tell when you needed to focus on your marriage instead of them, but you were really missing those lazy brunches and avocado toast. But Jake was the one you really wanted to have lunch with.
"Sorry, Cat," you murmured to yourself as you walked to the lab. You were ready to force Jake to sit down with you and you alone one day this week, even if that meant asking her nicely to sit at a different table. You still had in the back of your mind the fact that he had other women texting his phone, and you wanted to know what that was all about. 
Cat was the first person you saw when you entered your lab, and while you wanted to talk to her, she was wearing the expensive headphones with her eyes glued to her computer screen, and you knew better than to interrupt. So you waited and texted Jake to see if he was going to be on the ground at lunchtime today. But as soon as Cat removed her headphones, you were there.
"Hey," you said, and she jumped a bit in her seat. 
"Hi," she replied, eyeing you a little suspiciously. "It's pretty early on a Monday morning to be scaring people."
You took a deep breath. "Sorry. Bradley left a few hours ago, and I'm still riding the adrenaline rush."
Her face softened. "That's right. Any idea how long he'll be gone?"
"No clue. But I can already tell he's going to miss his birthday, which is now my favorite day of the year."
She laughed. "That's sweet. Jeremiah's birthday is my favorite day."
You paused and studied her face. "And Jake's birthday? You like that day, too?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Seeing as that's not until October, I haven't had a chance to experience that with him yet."
You wrung your hands together. "Do you think you and he will be experiencing it? Together?"
Cat stood and shook her head at you. "If you're trying to ask me what's going on with Jake, then just ask me what's going on with Jake. You and I can't cut the bullshit with each other now."
You felt your cheeks grow warm as you asked, "Did you ask him about the text messages?"
"Yes," she replied immediately. "At first he pretended not to know what I was talking about, and I promptly grabbed my bag and walked out his front door."
"No," you gasped, your hands curling into angry fists. "He didn't."
"He did," she said calmly, nodding. "I made it all the way out to Uncle Bernie's SUV before he chased me down. I told him to remember that I'm not some twenty one year old he met at the bar, and he told me he's an idiot. So I left."
"When was this?" you asked, completely shocked by Jake. 
"Saturday night." Cat was as calm as anything, and you kind of envied her for it.
"What are you going to do?"
She shrugged, and you saw the facade crack the tiniest bit. "Jer is already attached to him. So... that sucks, I guess. I haven't answered Jake's calls, and I haven't decided if I will or not. I needed time to think. I'm honestly a little surprised and annoyed that he isn't in here right now looking for me." Her expression just seemed sad now, and you really wanted to hug her. But Bickel walked in looking for Macy so you decided to just accost Jake yourself when you saw him.
The opportunity arose at lunchtime. "Seresin!" you called out once you had your burrito bowl and hot sauce in your hands. He turned around cautiously as you stormed in his direction. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He smirked. "You'll need to be more specific, Angel."
You glared. "Cut the shit and give me your phone." You set your lunch on an empty table before taking his sandwich container out of his hand. You held out your palm expectantly, and a few seconds later, he handed it to you. When you unlocked his phone and opened his messaging app, you were appalled. Most of the texts were from random numbers, and at least he hadn't responded to any of them, but you were still annoyed. "Why didn't you delete any of these messages?"
Now he was kind of in your face as he hissed, "What's the fucking point? It's not going to make them stop. It'll just make me feel worse when I get more."
You held up his phone. "One girl texted asking if you could come over at three in the morning. Three in the morning, Jake!"
"I know," he said, wrenching his phone back out of your hand. "It was when I was asleep in bed with Cat at Hondo's place. I snuck in the window around midnight just so I could see her, and I read the message when I woke up. It made me want to vomit."
"Well how do you think Cat feels?!" you replied in an outraged whisper. 
"Probably like an idiot," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing anything behind her back."
You sighed deeply. "I think she knows that, but you need to make it stop."
"I literally emailed your husband on Sunday night for advice," Jake said, plopping down into a seat at the table and running his fingers through his hair. "He managed to pull you, so he's got to know what he's doing and how I can fix this."
You rolled your eyes and took the seat across from him. "Well if he writes back, take it with a grain of salt. Bradley hardly gives his phone number out to anyone."
"He did write back. He told me after you and he traded numbers, he blocked and deleted everyone else's."
A soft smile found its way to your lips as you thought about Bradley holding his phone the night after you and he first kissed. The idea of him deleting other numbers while he was texting you made butterflies erupt inside you. "Well, you could try doing that," you told Jake. "Either that or get a new phone number. I think that would send the right signal to Cat. If you're still serious."
Jake poked at his sandwich for a few seconds with a scowl on his face, and then he stood, sending the chair screeching a few feet behind him. You watched him walk out of the cafeteria, and when he didn't return, you ate his sandwich and saved your burrito bowl for your dinner instead. You'd eat it at home while you emailed the photographer in Oceanside.
---------------------------
Bradley was usually able to get some sleep on the comanche transports, but this time it was too loud and uncomfortable, even with his earplugs. Exhaustion was finally overtaking him as they started to near the US base in South Korea. A nervous energy was thrumming through him. But he did feel more confident knowing that Cyclone and Warlock were running the mission this time, and while he didn't know many of the other aviators personally, he'd heard of all of them. The fact that several of them had been called in from the Atlantic fleet was a little bit alarming and also intriguing to him. 
He quickly learned that the woman sitting across from him was Daphne 'Bluebird' Blue from Lemoore, the pilot he'd filled in for once previously when she'd been injured in a training exercise. Of course that was the same mission Bradley had been lucky to return home from outside of a body bag. Countless stitches, broken bones and lacerations later, you'd nursed him back to health. He wondered briefly if something similar would have happened to Bluebird if she'd flown instead of him. Maybe they were both alive today simply because Bradley had gone in her place. 
The current mission felt like a way for him to bring his confidence fully back. As he walked out of the comanche and then right into a smaller helicopter that was waiting to take them to the aircraft carrier, Bradley ended up sitting next to Bluebird this time. He knew there would be time to meet everyone aboard the carrier, but she had a friendly demeanor. He really wasn't here to make friends though, so he closed his eyes, and luckily this time he was able to fall asleep.
"Rooster." He woke up to Bluebird shaking his arm. "Wake up."
He'd been having the most incredible dream about you, one where you were standing in the backyard singing really badly. Tramp was running around in excited circles and the sun was shining, and when he called out your name, you turned to face him. And you had an adorable baby in your arms. When he looked up at Bluebird with her hand on his arm, he was almost confused. 
"We're on the carrier," she informed him, patting his shoulder before walking out the back of the helicopter. He was alone now, and it was almost quiet, so he took a minute to let his head rest on the nylon netting behind him. The dream felt real to the point that being on the carrier felt foreign now. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood, looking around for his duffle before he walked outside. 
Cyclone was handing out bunk assignments, and thanks to Bluebird, there was an uneven number of males. Bradley got his own bunk. "Get some food, and get some rest," Warlock told the group. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 0900 to start talking about some mission options."
Bradley's brow scrunched as he followed the labyrinth of hallways in search of his bunk. That was such an odd way to phrase it: start talking about some mission options. It struck him that perhaps he was finally, officially sitting at the proverbial big kids' table. But now he was also a little afraid of exactly what was going to unfold here.
He quickly unpacked his bag and reached for his new notebook, deciding to forego dinner in favor of some quiet and a bigger breakfast in the morning. His thoughts were swirling. He scribbled down a paragraph about Admiral Dean and Slayer, trying to empty his brain of everything negative. He wrote down his feelings about the current mission, and then he paused. 
As he glanced over the page, he realized this notebook wasn't going to be quite like the last one. While he wouldn't hide it from you, it just felt a little different. Then he wrote down the dream he had. This was his notebook, and he wasn't going to change his tactics now. He wrote down everything in as much detail as he could remember. He wrote down the way the sliding glass door felt against his hand and exactly which song the dream version of you had been singing. 
And then he dropped the notebook and pen onto the floor and fell asleep without getting changed. When he woke up, he felt better. The jetlag had confused his body, but luckily he had plenty of time to get himself ready for the day. He ate breakfast alone after a long shower, and then he headed for the classroom. Everyone else seemed a little tense, and Bradley tried to chalk it up to the fact that only the admirals knew what was going on. But frankly they seemed tense as well. 
"Good morning," Warlock greeted everyone with a stern face and a deep voice. The room was absolutely silent for him. "Welcome aboard the USS Nimitz. I'm Admiral Bates, and this is Admiral Simpson. The seven of you have been selected to be here today, simply because you've consistently shown three qualities in your career: you can make good decisions under pressure, you treat your teammates with respect, and you come highly recommended by your superiors. You'll need to employ every bit of your knowledge and skill to make this mission successful. And it is of the utmost importance that we are successful." He paused, and when he spoke again, he was looking directly at Bradley. "Welcome to Operation Loophole."
----------------------------
You hadn't heard another word from Jake after lunch on Monday. You'd gone home to Tramp and eaten your burrito bowl before falling asleep on the couch while you tried to watch a movie. Your cramps were so bad, you could barely function, and Bradley wasn't even home to run around and get everything for you. 
"Come on," you said to Tramp as you stood and stretched around midnight. You let him outside and then took your phone to your bedroom while he trotted along behind you. Then you got yourself ready for bed and emailed the photographer who had helped you make Bradley's birthday present last year. She promised she would fit you in again, and you hoped she could take some photos of you this weekend when your period was over and you weren't so bloated.
You curled up in bed after turning the lamp off, and you thought about Bradley. You didn't even know where he was right now. The base in South Korea could be a jumping off point for pretty much anything, and all you could do now was wait and hope for a facetime call. 
After turning your ringer up louder, you eventually fell asleep with Tramp. When you woke up for work, you took your phone everywhere with you. It joined you on the bath mat when you took a shower, and you had it in your pocket as you ate breakfast. You weren't going to miss a call from Bradley this time. 
When you strolled into your lab right on time, Cat was already working, and she had the headphones on again. You tried to settle in to check some code so you could get your submissions out before your deadlines when Jake walked in.
"Angel," he said quietly, and he looked a lot calmer today. His gaze shifted to Cat, and you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. He hesitated, but then she carefully slid the headphones off and set them down next to her keyboard. Jake took a deep breath, and you tried to be discreet as you watched him walk over to her. 
She was looking up at him from her seat, and her expression gave nothing away. Jake said a few words and then handed her the paper before turning and walking away. Now he looked a little apprehensive as Cat read the note over a few times. She jumped up from her seat, and the paper sailed to the floor, landing close to your boot. You picked it up and read it as Cat called out to him and reached for his hand to stop him.
I don't want you to give up on me. 
It was followed by a phone number. Jake's new phone number. You smiled as you watched the two of them kissing out in the hallway. When Cat eventually walked back in, trying her best to contain her smile, she looked around a bit frantically for the note. 
"Here you go," you told her, holding it out. She snatched it from you with a grin and then sat down without a word. 
But a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket with a text from that new number. Angel, come have lunch with Bob, Nat and I today.
You couldn't turn down the invitation. At 12:30, you found yourself holding a lunch tray and sliding into the seat next to Jake as the three of them continued with their discussion as if you'd always been there. 
"I don't want to move to Poway," Bob said as he poked at his salad with his fork. "It will take me forever to get to work, and there's nothing up there anyway. Then you guys will forget about me and stop inviting me to things."
"I never invite any of you to anything," Nat interjected before biting into her cheeseburger. "You all just show up regardless."
"Well, what do you think, Angel?" Jake asked, eating a duplicate of the sandwich you enjoyed yesterday. 
"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about here?" you asked, turning your attention back to Bob when he sighed.
"My landlord is raising my rent," Bob replied. "I'm seriously considering a new place instead of renewing my lease, but nothing I've found seems suitable. And Nat and Jake are very little help."
Nat nodded in agreement, and Jake rolled his eyes. His phone was sitting on his tray, and you saw it light up with a text from Cat. When you met his eyes, he was smiling. 
"Well, Bob," you said, returning your attention to the man across from you, "I will definitely ask around and let you know if I hear of anything that might work out for you. And we could never forget to invite you to things. You're too sweet for that to happen."
"Thank you," he murmured, blushing a bit as he ate a bite of salad. You felt like you owed him a little bit since he'd kept Bradley so calm during that last, painful deployment. He'd given your husband a blank notebook and had taken the time to meditate with him. "How's Rooster's special detachment?"
You shrugged. "No idea. He just left yesterday. I'll be lucky to hear from him at all."
---------------------------
The training routine every day for the first week was rigorous, but the really crazy thing was the fact that the admirals still hadn't provided any real details about Operation Loophole. Bradley and the others were in the air working through exercises all morning every morning, and then they were all in the small classroom below deck until late. Oftentimes Admiral Simpson had food delivered to the room as he went over scenarios that didn't quite make sense without all of the information. 
They just kept going over three different scenarios: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Bradley knew them by heart, and he was sure the others did as well. But they weren't being told which one they would be flying for the mission. They were only being told they needed to be able to perform any of the three flawlessly.
On Friday morning at breakfast, Bradley decided to sit with Bluebird. It hadn't escaped him that the seven pilots all gave each other a bit of a wide berth during any sort of free time. He was left to assume that none of them had ever worked together before. He knew he hadn't worked with any of them. Bluebird was from Lemoore, but none of the others were stationed in California at all. Havoc was from Whidbey Island. Jackal was from Key West. Richmond was from Great Lakes. Wilbur was from Norfolk. Dugout was from Pensacola. 
"Are you starting to get the feeling they're withholding information from us?" Bradley asked as he took a seat. 
Bluebird looked up from her book and laughed. "Are you starting to get the feeling we might never know what's really going on?"
"Shit," Bradley muttered, dousing his eggs in hot sauce just like you would. "If they don't say something soon, I'm going to start begging for information. At first it was exciting to be part of this whole thing, but now, I'm not so sure."
"I completely agree," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Maybe the seven of us can pull together and riot."
She and Bradley walked side by side down the long corridor to the classroom without speaking, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't mind being alone with his thoughts right now, but it was especially nice to know he wasn't the only one who was frustrated here. 
"Close the door behind you," Cyclone barked at Bradley. Everyone else was already seated as the door clicked shut, and Bradley found a seat as well. "Since you've proven you can fly the Alpha, Beta and Gamma scenarios to the highest level of perfection, let's talk a little more about Operation Loophole."
Bradley leaned forward a bit in his seat as Warlock turned off the lights, and the projector at the back of the room lit up the front wall. 
"While giving you the barest amount of information possible," Cyclone started, "I'd like you to memorize what you see here."
Bradley looked at the aerial view of a city and the suburbs beyond. Then the image zoomed in on a small cluster of buildings before zooming further to one building with a dark green roof. He tried to take in every detail of where it looked like the front door opened up directly onto the sidewalk and the fact that there didn't appear to be any other buildings connected to it. The more he examined things, an uneasy feeling started to fill him up. And then he realized that he was looking at a live satellite feed as a motorbike rode past the building.
"This structure is currently housing five hostages. One is American. The other four are from allied countries. As far as our intelligence shows, they've been inside for fifty eight days."
Bradley had to fight the desire to look around the room as dread settled into his stomach. They were going to aid in a hostage extraction. He already knew what this meant. How dangerous it was going to be. 
"Six of you will be chosen. One of you will remain on standby. There is no margin for error. You will be flying unmarked jets. You will be wearing unmarked flight suits. Communication with the carrier will be at short range only. Communication with each other will be through code only. Nobody can know who we are or where we came from or what our country of origin is. You will not fire a single weapon. You will not take a single hit. You will be perfect."
-------------------------
Early on Saturday morning, you left your house with your hair and makeup looking flawless. There was literally a suitcase full of your clothing and lingerie in the back of the Bronco as you drove it along the coastal highway, and you were singing along loudly to one of Bradley's playlists. His birthday was next weekend, but you hadn't heard a word from him since he left. You couldn't hold out too much hope that he'd be back in time, because you didn't want to be disappointed later. At least his birthday present would be ready for him whenever he got home.
This year you decided to incorporate Bradley's beloved Bronco into his birthday calendar. Yesterday after work, you spent hours washing and cleaning it up so the blue paint absolutely shined. The idea of becoming a pinup model for the second year in a row was making you antsy to get the photo shoot over with, but he'd told you explicitly how much he wanted another calendar. And you often caught him flipping through the one you made last year when he was supposed to be working out in the garage.
You were smiling by the time you arrived at the rocky overlook a few miles outside of Oceanside, and Flora, the photographer you met last year, was already there. "You look like you're ready for the spotlight," she said as she shook your hand.
"I'm nervous," you told her with a shrug.
"You were nervous last year, and the calendar turned out perfectly. And this time, we've got gorgeous weather and a natural backdrop. It'll be great."
You took a deep breath and got to work. She had you pose all around and inside the Bronco, and she had you move it a few times so it was facing different directions. Once again you brought Bradley's aviators, and they made it into a few photos. Flora helped you discreetly get changed into different outfits even though there was nobody around to see. She took photos of you in your honeymoon bikini leaning back against the hood as well as some in your denim shorts and red bra while you sat on the tailgate. So many poses, you couldn't keep track.
As she scrolled through the photos, examining the screen on her camera in the sunlight, she casually asked, "How do you feel about going topless?"
You pressed your lips together. If you did, Bradley was going to have to make sure nobody else saw it. But you already knew he would lose his shit. In a good way. "Okay, but you'll have to make next June the topless month."
"Sure," she replied as you looked around in every direction before unclasping your bra.
A few hours later, you were dressed in a simple sundress and walking into the usual restaurant for a late brunch. You slid into the booth next to Cam and across from Maria, and you were thankful there was already a mimosa waiting for you. Flora insisted the photos looked perfect, but you were still a little antsy over the state of the calendar.
"I'm starving," Cam whined, signaling for the waitress to come back. "Do you know what you want?"
"I literally just got here," you told him as you sipped your drink.
"You always get the same thing anyway," he murmured. "Both of you do." You could tell he was getting hangry by the way he ordered for all three of you when the waitress came back. "One French toast with berries. One avocado toast with bacon. One western omelette with extra hashbrowns." Then he aggressively bit into a piece of the cinnamon toast that the waitress left on the table. 
"You're in a snippy mood," you told him, and then you realized that Maria was staring at her phone. "What's your problem?" 
Cam sighed and chewed up the rest of the toast. "I'm starving, first of all. Second, I think my boss is going to promote me next cycle, which is great, but I also feel like a dick, because I kind of want to switch labs. And third, Maria won't stop whining."
"I'm not whining!" she whined, rolling her eyes. 
Great. You had to be the parent today. "Well, congratulations?" you said to Cam and he just ate more toast in response. Then you looked at Maria and asked, "What's got you so upset?"
She set her phone down, and you could tell she was apartment hunting. "Rochelle is moving out. Her boyfriend got a bigger place, and she's moving in with him. She pulled a you."
You grimaced and muttered, "Sorry." 
She waved you off. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway. But I can't afford two bedrooms alone when everyone else around me is getting married and getting promotions and raises except me," she said blandly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
Cam downed his mimosa in one go, but you were still looking at Maria. "Hey... you remember Bob Floyd? Phoenix's backseater?"
"Lieutenant Commander Mustache and his parade of hot friends," Cam mumbled, and you elbowed him to be quiet.
Maria had a faraway look in her eyes now. "Bob Floyd. He always smells nice."
Cam nodded in agreement. And you nodded in agreement as well. "He does always smell nice," you whispered, thinking about the last time you hugged Bob. 
"Anyway, what about Bob?" Maria asked, still fidgeting with her phone. 
You smiled. "He's looking for a new place."
--------------------------------
Bradley was in his bunk, getting undressed after dinner when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he asked, opening it up to reveal a petty officer. 
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"
"Yeah?" Bradley repeated, buttoning his shirt up again.
"If you want to make a call, there are some free iPads in the communication room. I saw your name on the list."
"Oh," he murmured, quickly tucking in his shirt again and following him out the door. "Thanks."
Bradley's heart was pounding erratically. After you missed his call last deployment, he had gotten so frustrated, and you'd gone to talk to Dr. Genevieve. He was trying to do some quick math to determine what time it was back home, but he was already in the room. He felt flustered as he was given a tablet and a private spot to sit. As quickly as he could, he entered your number, hoping to have as much time to talk to you as he could. 
Just a few seconds later, you answered with a loud, "Roo!" Bradley saw your face for a few seconds before you dropped your phone. Then there was a string of curse words before you picked it up again. "Bradley?!" you asked in a panicked voice.
"I'm here, Baby Girl."
You squealed with delight, and Bradley realized you were standing halfway in and halfway out of the shower. You were completely naked, and you looked like perfection as you asked, "Are you okay?"
"Yes," he replied, knowing there was no way he could share any classified details about his mission with you. He was going to have to keep you talking about yourself as much as possible. "I miss you so much. How are you? How's Tramp?"
"Good!" you gushed, moving under the shower spray and holding your phone out away from you as you rinsed off. Bradley was completely distracted by your wet tits as you said, "I had brunch with Cam and Maria on Saturday, and Nat and I got our nails done. But I miss you. Did you fly yet?"
"Not yet," he rasped as you stood in the far corner of the steamy shower and smiled at your phone. "God, you look good."
Your smile grew as you leaned against the tile wall, bringing your free hand up to touch your breasts, and he could see his wedding ring on your necklace chain. "Do you know when you'll be home? Can you tell me about your mission?" you asked softly as the sound of the shower somehow calmed Bradley's nerves as you wound him up a little bit.
He just grunted. "I'd rather watch you, Sweetheart."
And you fucking let him. Your fingers with your pretty manicured nails brushed along your nipples as you sighed his name. He had no idea how he's gotten this lucky in life, as you treated him to those pretty fingers on your clit and slipping inside your pussy just for him. He watched you masturbate, and he turned the volume down when you got loud. His hand was resting on his cock as he grew harder for you, the sounds you made echoing through the shower enclosure. 
"Baby Girl," he groaned softly as he watched your face on the screen as you came. Perfect. You looked perfect. His mind flashed back to the dream he had as he looked at your face, relaxed and sated. 
"Tell me how much you miss me, Roo," you whispered breathlessly. So Bradley waxed poetic about your body and your voice and how he couldn't get comfortable in bed without you. He made you laugh, and his cock stayed hard as you licked your lips. 
And then he was told he had a minute left. "Hey, listen," he told you softly. "Time's almost up. I don't know when I'll be flying or when I'll be home, but I think this is going to be a crazy one, okay?"
"Okay," you said, apprehension creeping into your voice. 
"But I'm doing great here. I'm ready for anything. So there's no need to worry. I'll be home soon."
"I love you, Bradley."
"I love you so much, Sweetheart."
Bradley felt like he was still in a bit of a daze as he returned to his bunk. He thought about jerking off to the videos you and he made on his phone, but he barely had his shirt off when there was another sharp knock on his door. He answered in just his uniform pants. It was Bluebird, and the sight of her wearing her unmarked, black flight suit added to the adrenaline already coursing through his body. 
"Get changed into your black suit. It's time to go."
She moved down the hallway, knocking on another door, and it took Bradley a few seconds to pull his thoughts together. It was mission time. It must be dark out on deck now. He would be flying at night. He took a minute to breathe deeply the way Bob taught him, and then he got changed. 
He was the last one to walk into the classroom, and it felt so strange to have no identifying clothing or patches on his person at all, especially when the admirals were dressed for a normal day. "Have a seat," Warlock announced, and then he turned the lights out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. "You'll be flying tonight in these conditions. Your eyesight will do little to help you beyond seeing what's on your radar readouts. Rely on your teammates and your instincts instead."
Then the projector clicked on while Bradley's heart pounded. Cyclone was at the front of the room, signaling for the satellite image to be zoomed in further and further. "Our sources on the ground relayed useful intelligence in the last hour. The hostages are most likely being transported around midnight, potentially to an execution site. SEAL Team 7 is ready just off the coast aboard the USS Charleston. You will provide a distraction for the SEAL team, enabling them to penetrate the building and perform an extraction before the hostages can be moved. Two of you will protect a comanche helicopter crew providing imaging for the SEAL team. Four of you will lure enemy aircrafts out over the water and away from the military base located here." 
The image on the wall zoomed out and back in on an airstrip located not too far away from the hostages. Bradley listened as Cyclone told them their current coordinates, the coordinates of the base, and the coordinates of the hostages. "You need to keep the enemy aircrafts away from the Charleston and keep the comanche crew out of danger. Bluebird, you're the team leader for the comanche protection. Wilbur, you fly with Bluebird." Cyclone turned to look at Bradley as he said, "And Rooster, you'll lead the team composed of Havoc, Richmond and Dugout to lure the enemy jets out over the water. Any questions?"
Cyclone nodded at Richmond when he raised his hand, "Sir, are we following flight plan Alpha, Beta or Gamma?"
Cyclone shook his head. "None of the above. You'll be flying flight plan Omega, and we're going to make it up right now."
-------------------------------
Bradley is out there on the mission of a lifetime. More action coming soon. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 22
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firsttimewriter92 · 11 months
Text
My haven could be you
Joel Miller x f!reader Part 2, Part 3
Summary: Tommy´s brother arrives in Jackson and turnes your hormones upside down. Unbeknownst to you, your mere presence makes Joel absolutely feral.
Word count: 4.235
Warnings: angst, small panick attack, pining, feelings, hidden desire, dirty talk, masturbation (male and female), pining, cursing, MINORS DNI!!!
Authors note: I was playing around with this idea of Joel going nuts because he doesn´t know what to do with his feelings and his desires. I hope I made it as juicy as I imagined it to be :P
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The moment you arrived in Jackson the weight that´d pulled your shoulders down and forward lifted almost instantly. You couldn’t believe it was actually real. A functioning society, running water, supplies, regular hot meals. As long as everyone pulled their weight, this place was paradise. Even if someone didn’t have particular skills, there was always something to help with. So after resting and healing your weather-beaten and all in all almost broken body, the usual knot in your stomach returned with force and you went to find Tommy and Maria. You found them having a bowl of stew in the big community barn.
“I want to help” you said with a tight voice and looked directly at them. They shared a questioning look before Tommy answered. “We appreciate your vigor,___. It´s just…are you sure you´re up for it yet? How´s your foot?” he nodded towards your right shoe. Your lips formed a tight line. You knew your foot wasn’t fully healed yet. “It´s fine” you said lowly, still holding Tommy´s eyes. He sighed and his lips twitched slightly upwards. “It´s fine, huh?” he leaned forward onto his elbows. “When the Doc took a look at it when you arrived I distinctly remember him saying you needed to take it slow for at least two weeks. And it´s been, what? Four days?” Why was he smirking? The knot in your stomach began to burn uncomfortably.
“Tommy…please,” you started to plead, you patience waring thinner and thinner. “I can´t sit around anymore without doing anything to be helpful. I can look after the horses, I can help cook or harvest the gardens. I can….I can´t keep eating your food, taking your medication and taking up space without…without at least paying something back!” You didn’t even realise when the panting began. Swallowing big gulps of air, your pulse ran amok underneath your skin.
“Whoa, hey. Hold on” Tommy quickly stood by your side and helped your shaking body onto a chair. Without realizing it you began to pick at your knuckles again. Angry red marks appearing yet again. “___, breath. It´s okey. We´ll find something for you, don’t worry. Come on, breath. That´s it.” It was a small attack but still it had an effect. Tommy looked worriedly at you while Maria got up to get a glass of water. His hand lay itself calmly and warm onto your neck while you tried to control your breathing again. When Maria handed you the glass of water you tried to smile at her briefly and mumbled a quiet sorry. She shook her head vehemently and patted your head.
“I didn’t mean to be condescending,___. Really” Tommy said gently. You shook your head quickly. “That´s not…I didn’t think you were. I just…I need to pull my weight” you whispered almost desperately. Tommy nodded and smiled at you. “Okey. Let´s get you something to eat and then we´ll talk, alright? We´ll find you something, sweetheart.”
You gave a grateful smile when he returned with a steaming bowl and sat it in front of you. Having held back on how much you ate in the last couple of days, the delicious smell that invaded your nose made you dig in immediately, burning your whole mouth in the process. Hissing slightly you gave Tommy and Maria a sheepish look as they grinned.
“You know” Tommy said slowly while you eyes took him in. His eyes looked at you fondly. “You remind me of someone. He´s just as hardheaded, stubborn and eager to help as you.” His fond smile turned slightly bitter. “At least he used to be.” You raised your eyebrows in question. “My brother” Tommy explained with a sigh. “Haven´t seen him in ages but…you two have a lot in common.” Swallowing your mouthful of stew you gave him a smirk. “Seems like a reasonable character, your brother.” Tommy threw his head back and laughed throatily. “Yeah” he mused and looked at you amused.
“Yeah, you two would get along great.”
________________________________________________________
One year. One beautiful, blissful year in Jackson and you were your old self again. Sure, some of the worries that lingered in the back of your head would never really disappear but the knot in your stomach, the panic…it had been months since the last time you felt either. You were happy. The people of Jackson helped each other out wherever they could. Monty helped you renovate your kitchen and made sure your stove was working. In return you helped out at the school for three days so his wife could have some time off. Lauren fixed all your ripped clothes and even knitted you some sweaters for the winter. And again in return you helped her with making different kinds of pickles and jerky. That´s how it worked and you loved it. Community. No one needed to be alone.
Tommy and Maria made sure you had a comfortable little flat right above the bakery. They even gave you a small patch of land on which you grew several different kinds of herbs and flowers. Not just for cooking purposes but also some that were helpful with small medical issues. You had a good life. It was warm in winter, in summer there was running water and a small lake.
On one particular nasty winter day you were just on your way to the big kitchen in the community barn to help out when a small commotion caught your attention. The patrol was back but there were two more people riding through the gates. Your eyes caught onto a young girl with brown hair and a stoic expression. Her head however snapped from left to right when she took Jackson in for the first time. You smiled. You knew how she felt exactly. The other person was a man. Slightly greying brown hair and a patchy beard. His dark eyes moved quickly over the gathering crowd as the horses halted and the men and women got off. When the mans eyes twitched in your direction they zeroed in on you for longer than a few seconds. They looked surprised and confused.
He was handsome. Very handsome in fact and you could feel your cheeks heat up but you tried quickly to make it the biting colds fault. It seemed like several minutes that he held your gaze. Unwavering and confusing. He was definitely older than you but you couldn’t help but notice his beautiful features and big frame. Attraction. You felt immediate attraction towards him and your heart began to pound in your chest like it hadn’t done in years. Something searing began to crawl into his expressive eyes when he slowly tore his gaze from you.
Cold. When his eyes left you, you felt cold again instantly and shivered for several reasons all at once. How strange. And then to your shock and delight, the mysterious, gorgeous stranger got off his horse with a shout of Tommy´s name. No way, you thought. It´s his brother. The one Tommy had told you about several times and whos stories that he told you made you giggle or outright snort with laughter. Joel.
As you saw the two bothers embrace in happiness and relieve you couldn’t help but smile as well, happy for your friend.
And then you saw it. Joy made itself onto Joel´s face. It was like the sun was breaking through heavy clouds in early spring. Bringing with it a form of hope for better weather, warmer days, prosperity and abundance. He smiled and you immediately felt your knees weaken when the laugh lines around his eyes appeared. He huffed out a laugh and then pulled his brother back into his arms, still grinning.
An unfamiliar sensation spread through your body when you saw Joel like this. You´d seen him for the first time just two minutes before and yet his smile seemed like the most precious thing in this broken world. It warmed your toes and fingertips, made your heart go ballistic and your brain felt like it was vibrating in your skull. You knew you were staring at him but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.
“He doesn’t always smile like that, you know.” Screeching you jumped half a meter to the side and looked confusedly over to the young girl that had crept up on you. She was grinning from ear to ear and wiggled her eyebrows. “Huh?” you said lamely. She rolled her eyes but was still smirking. “You were staring at him like you´ve never seen a man before” she giggled. “Pretty pathetic.”
You raised your eyebrows at her choice of words. “First of all: Rude!” you pointed at her. “At least give me your name before you call me pathetic.” She looked to the ground and kicked a frozen piece of mud away. “Ellie” she said and looked at you again sheepishly. You smiled slightly. “Ellie” you repeated. “Second of all” you dared to look over to Joel and Tommy quickly. Tommy was talking to his brother animatedly but his brothers eyes were trained on the two of you. Heat reached your face again when you whipped your head around and continued. “I wasn’t staring. Just…looking.”
Ellie snorted sarcastically. “Aha. Yea, sure. Hey, Joel!” A little panicked sound made its way up your throat when Ellie raised her arms and gestured wildly towards the two men, beckoning them over. Tommy caught your eyes and pulled Joel with him to meet you. A huge shit eating grin on his lips.
When the two of them were standing right in front of you, you saw that Joel had only a couple of inches on you. His expression was still curious but a little careful as well. He turned his head towards Ellie and raised his eyebrow in question. Oh boy…
“Joel, look. I already met someone. Please, meet…uhm…” Ellie began to chuckle. “Can you believe it? She didn’t give me her name yet” her head turned towards you and with a smug expression she continued. “How rude.” Your mouth dropped open and all you could think was little shithead. Though in the next moment you realized that your thoughts were anything but hostile towards the quick mouthed teenager. It was impressive, really. She winked at you and took several steps back and moved towards Tommy so Joel´s attention was now fully on you.
Your eyes met again and with an embarrassed chuckle you extended your hand. “I´m ___. You must be Joel. Tommy´s told be a lot about you.” He shook your gloved hand with his own and again raised his eyebrow making your stomach twist with excitement. “Has he now?” he rumbled. His voice deep and smooth reminded you of honey. His eyes twitched towards his brother for a second but returned quickly to look back into yours.  A slither of mischief making his dark irises glitter. “Only good things I hope?” His mouth twitched a little and you were about to melt on the spot. “I´m just goin´ to say yes for now” you said with a grin. Joels eyes squinted as if he tried not to smile.
A few feet away, Ellie and Tommy stood side by side, observing the two of you. “Wow” Ellie said and wrinkled her nose is mock disgust. “That´s actually way too cheesy for my taste. Jesus Christ.” Tommy too was staring at the scene in front of him wondering when the last time was he saw that expression on his brothers face. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “What happened to him?” Ellie shrugged. “The fuck if I know, man. Never seen him acting like that. They should get a room.” Tommy looked at the teenager. “Let´s not jump to conclusions. Maybe it´s just a glitch in the matrix.” Ellie looked at Tommy as if he´d just turned into a unicorn. “A glitch in the what now?” Tommy sighed and shook his head. His gaze returned to his brother and you, his friend, watching as the two of you held a small conversation without realising that none of you had let go of the others hand yet.
____________________________________________________________
Weeks flew by incredibly fast. Tommy had given Ellie and Joel one of the bigger houses and you had a feeling that at least Ellie was growing more and more comfortable in Jackson. She found some friends that didn’t mind her swearing and actually saw it for what it was, she helped out at the stables and always had a smile or a wink for you whenever you passed her in the streets. Joel however seemed to have some difficulty to settle down. Relax. He would go out on patrols whenever he could and mostly kept to himself. He did however have at least one meal a day at the barn. Most of the time dinner. He was usually accompanied by Tommy or Ellie, ate his meal, maybe had some whisky and then got back to his house. Your eyes would wander after him more times than one and you couldn’t help but wish for him to relax a bit more, enjoy the safety Jackson provided. You wanted to know him more.
It was almost laughable how quickly you had developed a massive crush on the handsome brunette. You felt yourself sigh from time to time when your eyes were once again trained on his neck, the curls on his head, his greying beard or his wide shoulders. There was an unusual attraction to him. Something that went further than mere physical reactions to a pretty face. It was quite strange. Especially because you knew exactly what it was. You had crushes before but they almost always only ended in physical outbursts for one or maybe several nights. And then there was either a parting of ways, a fleeting of attraction or even death. None of them devastated you though.
The way your gaze would flit to the gates whenever he was out and the constant nerves that pulsed through your body until you saw him return made you second guess yourself this time around though. You worried about him. You cared about how he felt. You even caught yourself whishing you could be the reason he would be happier in Jackson. Wishful thinking. After your initial meeting and some mundane conversations here and there, he´d taken no other actions to get to know you. His answers were one worded, his small smiles didn’t reach his eyes and you hadn’t seen him look at you once since that day when he and Ellie arrived. It was slowly driving you nuts.
So there you sat at the bar, nursing a glass of whisky and staring after the man that had just left the barn yet again. He´d worn a black shirt and a light flannel over it as the weather was slowly getting warmer. The way the material had hugged his waist and slight tummy pouch almost made you whimper with need. The alcohol coursing through you didn’t make it any better. You closed your eyes momentarily and there he was, looking at you with pure desire in his eyes. That´s it!
You threw back the rest of your drink and got up from the bar. Waving at different familiar faces you lightly stumbled outside and took some deep breaths of the still winter crisp air. Turning down the road towards your flat you felt the desire in your belly boil stronger and stronger. A small high pitched grunt escaped your throat as you forced your jelly like legs to move faster. You needed something to release the tension tonight. And the one thing you wanted more than anything to release it was not obtainable at the time. So, you had no choice than to do it yourself. You stumbled up the flight of stairs at the side of the bakery building and clumsily fished out your keys.
Once the door was closed behind you, you kicked off your shoes and stumbled into your living room overlooking the town square below. Soft light from the streetlamp offered enough light to find your cosy couch. Flopping down on it you immediately lifted your hips and got rid of the denim. Getting rid of the rest of your clothes you were a panting, desperate mess the moment you lay your body back onto the couch and got comfortable. The moment your fingertips brushed over your nipple you knew this wouldn’t take long. Your insides already clamped down around nothing by the time your hand brushed over your mound.
Images of Joel invaded your mind without you having a chance to stop them. You imagined his wide shoulders above you, his calloused hands brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Whimpering and biting your lip you pinched your nipple again and lightly tapped your clit. Your legs shook and tried to close around your hand already but you forced them open again. The slightly cold air of your apartment stroking your wet and heated lips, making goosebumps appear all over your arms. “Fuck” you whispered out of breath. Your finger circling your clit faster and faster while your hips bucked upwards. Throwing your head back you felt the coil in your stomach. Just a little more.
“Fuck, please” you breathed while pushing two fingers inside of you. “Oh shit, oh shit. Ahh, Joel! Fuck. Fuck, please.” Your wrist began to hurt a little the way you so quickly tried to get to that sweet release. You screwed your eyes shut when you felt your orgasm approaching. A few hurried strokes over your clit later, combined with a hefty circling of your stiffened nipple a small shout left your lips. Your back arching into your hand as your body convulsed with Joels voice in your ears. That´s a wonderful girl. That´s it, baby, come on. Come for me, come for me! “Oh god….oh fuck!!” It seemed to go on forever. Several moments later you were still twitching and a strangely sad yet satisfied heaviness washed over you. The itch was halfway gone but you knew you had to do something about your feelings for Joel. This was getting a little out of hand and he didn’t even know about his effect on you. With a heavy sigh and still a bit tipsy you blindly reached for your blanket und pulled it up to your chin, falling asleep almost instantly.
Several houses down the road Joel was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands trying yet again to get the images of you out of his head. The images that where currently the reason for his raging erection that he couldn’t seem to be able to control. Hissing when your sweet innocent smile appeared behind his eyelids and his dick pressed even more against his zipper, he grunted and covered it with one of his hands. This was getting ridiculous. Damn coward, he was. The moment he lay his eyes on you there was something aching in his chest. An itch he couldn’t remember ever having. It wasn’t just sexual. Although he gave up on counting how often he´d already touched himself for just a tiny bit of relief whenever he´d been in your presence.
He felt dirty. Not just because you were probably a good chunk younger than him but because he felt his resolve and patience crumble by the day. He already tried his hardest to not be close to you, to not finally snap, pull you into an alley, hoist you up and kissing you neck. Not to hear your sweet whimpers when he´d finally touch you, caress your silky skin and pant praises into your ear.
“Fucking hell” he grunted and once again gave up on not relieving himself from the tortures pleasure you enveloped him in day after day. He pulled his shirt over his head, stood and kicked his jeans away. Clad in only his boxers he lay down on his bed and once again tried to take control over his body. To no avail. The moment his eyes closed he could see your glittering eyes, you enticing mouth. The beautiful shape of your body making his head spin every time he saw it. You´d worn a V-neck top today. The gently slope of your collarbone burned into his memory. The perfect swell of your chest more revealed than he´d ever saw it.
His hand brushed his bulge and he clenched his jaw shut, pulling his boxers down. His erection hitting his lower stomach gently he could already feel the wetness of precum smudging the angry red tip. Joel drifted away. Thinking about your body underneath his own he began to stroke his cock languidly. His toes already curling slightly he thought about how you´d react to his body. His slight squishiness. Did you like that? Or did you prefer stone hard muscles? He wasn’t weak by any means but age had slowly begun to wrap its fingers around him. Imagining you´d find him as irresistible as he found you, his thumb moved over the slit, gathering the wetness there and circling it around the head.
A deep rumble echoed in his room as he opened his mouth slightly. “God, sweetheart” he breathed as he could feel the heat travel up his spine. Squeezing his cock harder and moving his hand faster up and down he felt a drop of sweat run down his neck. He imagined licking your neck, kissing your pulse point and gently biting at your ear. The sound of your sweet whimpering and breathless pleads invaded his mind. It drove him closer and closer to his end. Where you quiet in bed or would you voice your desires to him? Oh how he hoped you´d do that. He wanted nothing more than to know what made you feel good, worshipped, wanted. Loved.
By the end of that thought he almost lost all control as he felt his balls tighten. Jesus, when was the last time that feelings like returned affection got him going this hard? He was panting by now and murmuring into the darkness. “What do you like, baby, huh? T-tell me.” He gasped when he squeezed the base of his cock hard as to not come too quickly. “Bet you like my tongue, don’t you? Bet you like it when I explore every inch of you with just the tip of it.” Goosebumps covered his whole body at this point and he felt like he was drunk. His head was reeling with every possibility of having you scream his name. “I bet you have the most sensitive nipples, don’t you? Oh fuck! Hggnn…h-how long has it been for you, darlin´? God, I bet y-you´re sensitive all over. Oh, good god. Oh, fuck.” He tried to keep his voice under control but it was shaking and rough.
One hand moved to his mouth and he quickly spit in it. Still moving his other hand up and down on his shaft he covered the head with his slick palm and began lifting his hips with every stroke. He was completely gone at that point. Huffing and moaning he began to fuck his own hand imagining his hips slotted between your legs and looking down at his cock disappearing into your wet and hot pussy again and again. A high monotone sound rushed through his ears as he got lost in the sensation and imagination of fucking you deep into his mattress.
“Ah, shit, baby. That´s it. So fucking warm. Hmmpf, wanna feel you so bad, wanna make you cum for me so bad. P-Please,___. ´M coming. Fuck, fuck,___. ´M coming, c-comi…com…HMMPHH!!” His hips lifted off the bed the moment he felt an overwhelming orgasm crush into him, making him groan and releasing pent up air quickly and loudly. Still gently tugging on his spent cock he rested his head onto his pillow and tried to calm down. His heart almost beat out of his chest as he registered his sticky cum not only covered his hand but had also landed on his stomach and chest. After several minutes he grunted and got up. He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower.
As the hot water cascaded over his shoulders, back and ass, dribbling down his strong legs he tried to make a plan on how to approach this problem he had with you. Not that it actually was a problem but he couldn’t go on like this. He needed to solve this somehow. Problem was, he hadn’t found himself in this kind of situation with these kinds of feelings in over 20 years.
Either you put him out of his misery or, for some unforeseen, ridiculous reason you desired him too. Wanted to see him smile just as much as he wanted to see you smiling every second of every day.
Grow a pair and at least next time stay long enough to have a drink with her, he scolded himself. It was a start. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was Marias birthday celebration at the barn. He actually hadn’t planed on going, seeing as Maria didn’t really seem very fond of him yet but…you´d be there. You´d be there and it would be a party of sorts. He´d get you a drink. He´d try to have a conversation with you. He´d try, damn it. Maybe Jackson was his new beginning with Ellie.
Maybe Jackson was his new haven…with you.
_________________________________________________________
Thank you so much for reading <3 Please consider interacting with this post. I´m really happy about every like, comment or reblog. I´d really aprreciate a written feedback in a comment or a reblog so I know if this is up the alley of my readers and followers. :) It would make my day.
I appreciate all of you, stay safe and healthy <3
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apute11as · 5 months
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My saviour - Alexia putellas x reader
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Author note: Hey guys this is my first attempt at fanfiction so please be nice! Any comments are lovely and really motivating! Sorry if there are any mistakes but yeah hope you enjoy ❤️
Warnings⚠️: tiny bit of violence and minor SA
Alone in a bar. You stood there questioning how on earth this was your Saturday evening. Never really one for drinking and partying but here you were.
The past week had been increasingly stressful, with your corporate job managing to overwhelm you in every way possible, from overdue spreadsheets to unread data the list was endless.
The dim light of the bar, the crowds of people, and the constant bass acted as a distraction from it all. You began to get lost in the atmosphere, but it was short lived as you felt a jab in your side. Wincing slightly, you were met with the deep grey eyes of a man perhaps in his early 30s.
“Sorry pretty lady” he said sleazily.
It was evident that he was under the influence of a rather heavy amount of alcohol.
“Don’t worry about it” I replied emotionless
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all alone here anyways?” he slurred with an uncomfortable grin. “How about I take you back to mine and I can offer you a proper apology” he added.
“I’m waiting for someone actually but thank you for the apology” I responded, shifting my weight slightly, ready to make an exit. I quickly realised this was feeble act as more people had gathered around the bar, my exit being blocked from all ends.
“Aww come on little girly, I can treat you right.” he said getting closer so I could now smell the pungent liquor on his breath.
“No I’m sorry but I’m really not interested” I answered. Clearly it was the wrong answer as he took another step forward and settled his hand dangerously close to my ass; his front was pressed up to mine. The situation was nearing critical as I became more and more uncomfortable with each unwanted advance. I scoured my eyes around the room helplessly, looking to meet anyone’s gaze who could potentially offer help.
What I hadn’t realised was a woman amongst a group, who had been watching the entire interaction and whilst she couldn’t see the look on my face, she felt extremely uneasy just watching the scene unfolding in front of her.
Alexia had been sat amongst her Barcelona teammates for a couple of hours, celebrating a win of El Clásico and with the weekend off, the bar seemed the perfect place to go. She of course opted for a lemonade which was a comedic sight next to her teammates heavy spirits and liquors, so in complete sobriety, her attention was completely focused on you.
“Alexiaaa come and dance stop being boring” called Mapi from the dance floor with Claudia in one arm and Patri in the other.
“No, gracias María, te diviertes. Estoy bien aquí” (No thank you Maria, you have fun, I am fine here”) responded Alexia, her gaze not leaving the couple at the bar.
“Suit yourself Reina” Mapi retorted
Returning to her staring, Alexia began to tense further at the interaction in front of her, finally deciding to make a move over there when the intoxicated man leaned into your neck, in an attempt to press a clearly unwanted kiss there.
The man was almost successful in his attempts reach your skin with his stubbled mouth, before you felt an arm snake around your waist and pull you backwards. Heart rate increasing even further, you turned around to discover that the owner of those arms was in fact a woman, much to your relief.
“This woman clearly isn’t enjoying your company so move a long por favor.” she seethed sternly, her grip tightening protectively around your waist.
“Woah got yourself a girlfriend little missy, that’s ok maybe I could watch instead” he smirked disgustingly.
That did it for Alexia, normally one to conceal her anger, she shoved him back harshly and watched as he stumbled into the empty seats. You watched in terror as to what his response would be but just as he rose to retaliate, security arrived and gripped onto both of his arms, preventing him from moving.
“Did you just see what that b*tch did to me, I didn’t do nothing to her me and this lady here were just having a lovely conversation” he slurred.
To your surprise, the security guards ignored him completely and turned to the woman who still held onto you (not that you were complaining).
“Alexia I’m so sorry we didn’t see this misunderstanding before”. Said the taller of the two guards
“Thank you Davide but it’s not me you should be apologising to it’s… sorry I didn’t catch your name amor” she replied calmly
Amor you thought, so she was Spanish “Y-Y/N” you stuttered, still bewildered at the event that just occurred.
At that, you were sure you heard the word “guapa” muttered under her breath and even your minimal Spanish could decipher the meaning.
“Yes of course we’re very sorry miss Y/N, we should’ve been more alert” the guard said turning to you.
“Sí you should have but it’s done now, but please take that filthy scum out of here” the woman, whose name you’d learned was Alexia replied gesturing to the man now passed out on the floor.
“Of course miss Alexia” he replied, nodding his head.
“Gracias Alexia, my names Y/N, wait sorry I already said that but thank you- I mean gracias for the rescue I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you hadn’t got there. Oh and I’m sorry for ruining your nigh-“
“calmate amor” she cut off your rambling “you don’t need to thank me at all, are you ok, he didn’t do anything did he?” She asked intently, the anger burning in her hazel eyes.
“No, no thankfully you got there in time” I replied, maintaining comfortable eye contact.
“I’m glad mi corazón, are you with anyone?” She questioned, only breaking the eye contact to blink.
“No I’m not but I’ll be fine now he’s gone, thank you though” you responded
“Now we can’t have that, my friends are just over there in one of the private booths” you looked over at a large group of women, who seemed not to have noticed the commotion that had occurred previously. “It’s quite over there, secluded, no one will get to you. Only if you want to go that is, I think you’ve been pressured enough tonight.” She smiled pitifully.
“I think I’d like that if you don’t mind” you replied, unsure.
“Of course!” She exclaimed enthusiastically. “They don’t bite I promise, actually maybe Mapi does but I’m sure she’ll make an exception” she beamed.
She released her grip from your waist finally and you found yourself immediately missing the contact and warmth that her body offered. Seeing you stood still she offers out her hand and you wrap your hand eagerly around hers and allow her to lead you over to the large group of girls in her booth.
Part 2 coming soon! : Alexia introduces you to the teammates
Author note:
Hey guys thank you for reading, please leave any feedback on the comment or any requests in the ask section! I write for pretty much anyone woso so request away! I’ll do smut, angst, fluff or anything really 🫶
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javierpena-inatacvest · 5 months
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Chapter 16- The Lone Star State
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Summary: You and Javi head to Dallas for the weekend to make good on his Christmas present to the Stars vs. Blackhawks game. While you're there, you run into someone from your past that sets the weekend in a different direction.
Word Count: 15.7K (I'm genuinely so sorry except I'm not)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) strap in y'all... unprotected p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, light bondage (aren't we glad Javi brought his work tie?!), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dom/sub Javi AND Osita (omg y'all), Javi being a whining, WHIMPERING mess (it deserves its own warning) violence (Javi punches someone), alcohol/being tipsy, food/eating, I'm not even gonna lie everyone... This chapter is really just hockey and sex LMAOOOOO
A/N: Trick or Treat! Here's a lil Halloween something for all of you being so patient and waiting for me to finish this unexpected monster 🫣 I swear, I thought I was gonna struggle to make this chapter long enough, and now here we are, with the longest NTL chapter to date 🥴 SO EAT UP AND ENJOY 🤪 Shout out to @endlessthxxghts for listening to my horny ramblings about this chapter ILYYYYYYY
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
Your teacher guilt had never been good at letting you take days off. You had gone to school with sore throats, stuffy noses, fevers, hell, you had gone to school with what you were convinced was the plague because you felt so bad leaving your class with a sub. So when it came to taking personal days, it was safe to say, you felt even worse. That’s why Javi knew when he had planned your Christmas trip to Dallas with a Friday night game for the Chicago Blackhawks vs. the Dallas Stars, he was going to need plenty of backup support from your co-workers to convince you it was okay to take a Friday afternoon off to do something for yourself to enjoy. 
“Okay, and just make sure that the substitute knows that all of the worksheets for math are on my desk next to-” 
“MIJA. Dios Mio. Yes, yes, yes, I will make sure the substitute knows where everything is. It is a Friday afternoon, all she needs to do is keep them alive. Don’t worry about a thing, I promise I have it covered. Now go! Tu futuro esposo te está esperando! (Your future husband is waiting for you!)” Maria waved her hand at you, practically shooing you out of your own classroom, trying to get you to stop explaining your very detailed plans you had left behind that you had already told her 4 different times leading up to today, in addition to leaving an extra copy on her desk, just in case something went wrong. 
“Okay, okay! Thank you Maria. You’re the best.” You laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder, starting to make your way down the hall to the front office. 
“Yo se. Ten un buen fin de semana! (I know. Have a fun weekend!). Not too much fun, if you know what I mean.” Maria winked, waving goodbye as she walked the opposite direction back towards her own classroom. 
“Maria!” You grimaced, your face turning bright red watching her cackle in delight as she closed her door behind her. You took a final breath as you headed down the hallway, convincing yourself that your class would be just fine for their substitute, and even if they weren’t, well, that would just have to be Monday’s problem. 
“Man, you’re really sexy for a taxi driver, you taking people to the airport, hottie?” you giggled, hopping into the passenger’s side of Javi’s truck, tossing your school bag into the backseat with the rest of your suitcases. Like most people’s jobs, Javi’s work at the sheriff’s department didn’t require him to leave behind detailed instructions of how to keep 25 8 year olds alive and educated when he wanted to take time off, so he had offered to leave work early to pack up all of your things so you could head right to the airport from Alma Pierce Elementary. “Oh my god, and you got BLT’s from Alejandro’s, too? Sexiness and bringing me sandwiches? This is the best cab ride I’ve ever had.” The two of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes at you, passing you over your sandwich as you headed en route to the Laredo Airport. 
“You’re such a weirdo. How was your day, Osita?” Javi asked, reaching over to place his hand on your leg, gently tracing circles in the denim of your jeans as you chowed down on your sandwich, finally getting a chance at a bite of food for the first time since breakfast. 
“Better now that I’m with you. And that you brought me this delicious sandwich. I’ve been so distracted all day because I’ve been so excited for this weekend.” You beamed through bites of your BLT, reaching down to give Javi’s hand a squeeze. 
“Me too, Hermosa. I’ve never been to Dallas before, so I’m glad my first trip is with you.” 
“Seriously? I guess I forget how big Texas is. It’s probably like what, a 7 hour drive from Laredo?” You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich, trying to calculate the distance in your brain. 
“About 6 and a half. Which is exactly why we’re flying, and not driving.” 
“What? You don’t wanna spend 6 and a half hours in the car with me?” You smirked, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before crossing your arms over your chest. 
“No, I don’t wanna spend 5 hours and 45 minutes by myself driving while you sleep the whole way.” He laughed, elbowing you back, the both of you knowing you made the worst road trip partner for any drive longer than an hour, since you’d be sound asleep in the passenger’s seat as Javi drove. 
“To be fair, you’re always the one driving.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at his jab, knowing he wasn’t wrong. 
“Because you refuse to drive my truck, and I’m convinced if you drive your car anywhere more than 10 miles at a time, it’ll collapse.” 
“Hey! Woodstock can make it at least a good 50 before I start to get genuinely concerned. I trust him more than I trust the metal death trap we’re about to ride in. I think you just like watching me suffer while we fly because you know how much I hate it.” You sassed, giving him an unseriously stern look that had you on the verge of bursting into laughter. 
“I think the bones in my hand would beg to differ, Hermosa. After the past two flights to Chicago, I’m surprised I have any left considering the death grip you have every time we take off and land.” Javi chuckled, nudging you back. 
“Like I said Jav, you’re the one who booked the flight, can’t blame this one on me.” 
To neither of your surprise, you couldn’t help but find your hand tightly wrapped in Javi’s for the hour and a half flight from Laredo to Dallas. Although he refrained from giving you any shit as you sat only partially paralyzed next to him on your trip, his “I told you so” look as the two of you got off the plane was all he needed to do to have you rolling your eyes, knowing as long as the two of you flew together, he would always tease you for crushing his hand, but you and him both knew he wouldn’t want it any other way. 
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Your cab ride from the airport to the hotel was a quick trip, Javi picking a hotel downtown close to fun bars and restaurants for the two of you to try, and to Reunion Arena where you were headed in a few hours to watch the Stars and the Blackhawks play. You both unpacked your bags from the taxi, Javi insisting that he carry your bag too. It didn’t take long into your relationship for you to give up on trying to persuade Javi that you could carry your own bags, open your own doors or go get things yourself, his response always being “I know you can, Hermosa, but I want to.” While the stubborn part of you always wanted to fight him on it, there was always a part of you that couldn’t help but smile every time he insisted on doing things for you simply because he wanted to, for no other reason than the fact he loved you. 
“Hi, we’re checking in. The name should be under Javier Peña.” Javi smiled at the woman at the front desk of the hotel as the both of you strolled up hand in hand. 
“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña it looks like we’ve got you checking in tonight and then checking out on Sunday, is that correct?” The woman nodded back at the two of you, clicking away at the keyboard in front of her to gather the rest of your room information. You and Javi paused for a moment, quietly looking at each other with smug grins on your faces, feeling no need to correct her mistake. 
“Yup, that’s us.” You chimed in, giving Javi a little nudge under the counter, still smirking at the thought of hearing your last name as his. 
“Perfect! We have you staying in room 403. If you take a left down this hallway, the elevators are right that way. Have a wonderful stay, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” The woman grinned, handing over your room keys and gesturing down the hallway, the two of you nodding back, giving a polite thanks as you grabbed your bags and headed off towards your room. 
“Didn’t feel the need to correct her on that one, huh?” You giggled, playfully poking at Javi as the two of you waited for the elevator. 
“Absolutely not, Mrs. Peña.” He grinned, grabbing your bags as the two of you stepped through the open doors of the elevator, glad to find it empty as you pressed the button to ride up to your floor. “Fuck, I can’t believe in a few months you’re actually gonna be my wife. God, I can’t wait.” 
You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked up at him, soft smiles spread across both your faces. “Me neither. Crazy to think the next time we stay at a hotel together it’ll be on our honeymoon.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him, biting down on your lip. Javi shook his head, running his hand over his face almost in disbelief before pulling you in closer, reaching his hand down to grab a handful of your ass as his voice rasped in your ear. 
“Fuck me. Better make sure we put this hotel room to good use and get some practice in before we go then, huh?” 
Before you could respond, you could hear the ding of the elevator doors sliding open, Javi quickly pulling away, noticing several hotel guests standing on the other side of the door, grabbing your bags and getting off the elevator. You let out a deep sigh, trying to compose yourself as you excused yourself through the small crowd, giving Javi a goofy, stern look as he laughed, carting your bags behind him as you made your way down the hall towards your room. 
“You cannot just be saying stuff like that, you menace. You know we do not have time to do anything before we have to leave, and you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered.” You grimaced, playfully swatting at him as he set down your things to grab the room key out of his pocket. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita. I would never do that.” Javi joked, a boyish grin growing between his cheeks as he pushed open the door, hauling your bags inside. “Plus, you know I could make it quick, we could have time if you really wanted to.” Throwing your bags down on the ground next to the bed, Javi smirked as he sat down on the edge, giving you the sweet brown eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. 
“Oh bullshit you never would, you dork.” You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Javi, slotting yourself in between his legs as you ran your hands through the soft brown curls of his hair, pressing a tender kiss on his lips before pulling away, cupping your hand around his cheek. “Believe me, I know you could, but the game starts in an hour and a half and we still have to eat dinner and get to the stadium. You spent all this money on me to take me here to see the game and we’re not missing it because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” 
“When you’ve got a future wife as hot as you, can you blame me?” Javi shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist, reaching his hands down to grab your ass again, tugging you hard enough to make you fall over on top of him, making you giggle as you landed on his chest. 
“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Believe me, once we get back, my future husband can have me any way he wants me. But right now, we have a hockey game to get to, Mr. Peña.” You grinned, biting down on your lip before giving him another quick kiss and pushing yourself off the bed, leaving Javi still laying down wide eyed and worked up as you rummaged through your suitcase, pulling out a Blackhawks jersey for you, and one from Charlie’s extensive collection for Javi to borrow, tossing it on the bed next to him. You shuffled out of the sweater you had worn to work, leaving you in just your bra and jeans as you searched through your bag to pull out a crewneck to wear under your jersey. 
“Any way? You’re not making this any easier on me.” Javi huffed, beginning to shed his own jacket to change, undressing you with his eyes faster than you could have undressed yourself. 
“Well you’re not about to make it any easier on me once you put that jersey on either.” You sighed, watching Javi throw on his jersey over his shirt, your jaw immediately going slack at the sight. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot. God, I can’t even look at you. C’mon, we gotta get outta here before we miss this whole game.” You laughed, overdramatically shielding your eyes from Javi, marching your way over to the door to avoid any temptations. Javi chuckled, grabbing his jacket and following behind you, opening up the door for you, outstretching his arm toward the hallway. 
“After you, Mrs. Peña.” 
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Someway or another, the two of you managed to make it out of the hotel, deciding on a barbeque restaurant down the street from the stadium for dinner. The two of you decided to get ribs to split, leaving Javi equal parts shocked and impressed at the speed you demolished your dinner, realizing you were much hungrier than you had anticipated. After finishing your dinner, the two of you walked over to Reunion Arena, perhaps feeling a little like the odd ones out in your red and black amongst a sea of green and gold, but the feeling of being back in a stadium to watch a live hockey game filled you with a sense of comfort and content even if you were far from your home arena in Chicago. 
“I haven’t been to an NHL game in so long. You seriously have no idea how excited I am for this, thank you so much, Jav.” You beamed, squeezing his hand as the two of you made your way into the arena, working your way through the sizeable crowd, considering how well the Dallas Stars had been doing this season. “I feel honored to be the first one to take you to your first professional hockey game.”
“Of course, Osita. I’m excited to be here with you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gone my whole life without ever watching a hockey game.” Javi smiled, gripping your hand a little tighter than usual as you navigated through the sea of fans, trying to find your seats. 
There hadn’t been many instances where you and Javi had found yourselves in large crowds of people, but whenever you did, you could always sense the slight shift in Javi’s demeanor- While it didn’t make him uneasy, you could always tell he was a little more on alert and on edge. Your brothers had been the same way when they had come back from active duty whenever they were in crowds, and you could understand why Javi felt that way, too. But what Javi was that your brothers weren’t when you found yourselves in these situations was overly protective of you. Holding your hand tighter than normal, shielding your body with his whenever you had to walk through a crowd, giving guys who looked in your direction a little too long a death glare he hoped you wouldn’t catch- Javi would never admit it, knowing the stubborn and independent woman you were, but you knew just as well as he did that he got just a touch more possessive whenever the two of you went out, and tonight was no exception. 
Javi had tried to chalk it up to the fact that you stood out because of your opposing jerseys, but he couldn’t help but notice the looks that you had been getting since the minute you had entered the stadium, the wandering eyes of groups of guys with their buddies silently nodding to each other with subtle smirks on their faces as you unassumingly walked by. And while he was never worried that you would do anything about it, he couldn’t help but feel a little heat start to burn in the pit of his stomach as men looked your way a little too long, especially as the two of you walked hand in hand through the arena, the men glancing in your direction knowing you were off limits because you were his. While he wouldn’t say it, and was going to try his damndest not to show it, Javi couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. 
After a quick walk through the arena, you and Javi found your section, practically dragging him down the steps towards your seats in excitement to know your seats were right up against the boards at center ice, which, to you, were the best seats in all of hockey regardless of where you were watching. “Javi, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, these seats are amazing, I have never had seats this good at a hockey game ever! You sure these are our seats? Like, we actually get to sit here?” You squealed, pointing to the pair of empty seats in your row, practically bouncing in excitement. 
“Yes, actually.” Javi laughed, beaming at your pure joy and excitement as you plopped into your spots, watching you take in the sights and sounds of the pre-game excitement. You were like a little kid on Christmas, even giddier than you were when you first saw the tickets on the day as your present, filling Javi’s heart to know his gift had brought you such genuine happiness. 
Looking up at the scoreboard, you figured you had just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab the two of you a beer before the game started, shooting up out of your seat and giving Javi a quick kiss on the cheek as you scooted past him. “Where are you going?” Javi asked, looking at you with confusion as you made your way down the aisle. 
“I gotta pee and I’m gonna go grab us drinks before the game starts.” You gestured up towards the stairs and then back at the game clock ticking down towards zero. You were equally as confused as Javi started to stand up too, looking like he was getting ready to follow you. “You need to pee, too?” 
“No, I was uh- I was gonna go with you.” Stuck halfway between standing and sitting, Javi paused, trying to silently convey to you that he didn’t mind going, for his own sake to know that no one was going to try and bother you on your trip. 
“Jav, I’m good, it’ll be like 5 minutes, don’t worry.” You nodded reassuringly, giving him a little shrug as you made your way up the steps to the entrance of your section. 
“O-okay.” Javi half smiled back at you, watching the whole way you went up before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him anxiously tapping his fingers against his jeans as he waited for you to return. 
The one benefit of being a female hockey fan was that you seemed to come few and far between, making your trips to the bathroom at any game much shorter than the average women’s bathroom line, happily speeding in and out before making your way over to the concession stand. You stood in line, peeking your head over the other people waiting with you to try and see what your beer choices were on the menu above the cash registers, when you noticed familiar flashes of red and black jerseys a few lines over. Out of curiosity, you stood on your tiptoes, peering through the crowd to see who else had Blackhawks jerseys on all the way out in Dallas. Taking a few steps forward with your moving line, you were able to get a better look at the group of guys chatting amongst each other, only able to see the backs of their heads and the player’s jerseys they were wearing, until one of them turned around towards you making your gut sink and your heart stop. 
There’s no fucking way.  
You immediately turned around, hoping the group hadn’t seen you staring, visibly shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. You quickly looked over once more, only able to see the backs of their heads again, making it easier to convince yourself you must have just been seeing things. 
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” A woman called out from the cash register, trying to get your attention as you stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the ground. 
“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. Um, can I uh- I can I just get two Miller Lites, please?” You asked, pulling out your wallet and handing over a few bills and your ID, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for her to return with your drinks, stuffing your change back into your pocket and grabbing your beers. You tried as best as you could to book it back to your seats, praying that if who you thought you had seen was really there, you had made it out fast enough that they hadn’t seen you. 
You had made it back just in time, the lights in the arena now beginning to dim, the crowd roaring as the Blackhawks and the Stars skated out of the tunnel to greet the crowd and warm up before the game started. You had hoped that the darkness of the arena would be enough to hide your rattled expression from Javi as you snuck back to your seat, passing his beer off to him as you sat down with yours, taking a long swig before setting it down in your cup holder. While the lack of lights may have been enough to hide your face, it wasn’t enough to make up for your silence as you sat down next to Javi, now looking over at you with concern. “You okay, Osita?” He asked, reaching down to wrap his hand around your knee that you had been trying to keep from anxiously tapping since you got back to your seat. 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just- um, I just thought I saw someone that I knew here but I don’t know how the hell it would be them or why they would be in Dallas, so it must have just been someone who looked like them. Sorry, it was just weird.” You shook your head again, trying to use any rational part of your brain to convince yourself of your words, and not let it ruin the rest of your night. “I’m good, I promise.” Leaning over the edge of your seat, you planted a soft kiss on Javi’s cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before letting out a big cheer as the announcer began shouting out the names of the Blackhawks starting lineup through the arena. 
Thankfully, it didn’t take much for you to forget about your unsettling observation at the concession stand- the excitement and energy of the game quickly took over, cheering and screaming as the puck dropped and the first period began. The seats that Javi had picked out were incredible, giving you a close up on all of the action, including a few body checks pressed up against the glass right next to you as the two teams battled on the ice. You had always told Javi whenever you watched games on TV that you never expected him to care or be nowhere near as invested as you were, but knowing how important it was to you and how much you loved it, he had made an effort to try and learn as much as he could to keep up, leaning over to your seat every once in a while to ask you questions or try and point out something he noticed. It warmed your heart to see how much Javi wanted to show that he cared, and made you even more thrilled to see that he was just as into watching the game as you were, now yelling and clapping along with you opposite the crowd filled with Dallas Stars fans. Anything you did with Javi made you happy, simply because you got to be with him, but you really owed it to him for making this one of the best hockey games that you had been to in a very, very long time. 
As the second period came to a close, the Blackhawks were up 2-1, the two of you so excited by the game that you hadn’t realized you both could go for another beer refill and another trip to the bathroom. You made your way up the stairs, Javi following close behind as you parted ways at the entrance to your section, agreeing that you would go get your drinks and meet him at the concession stand, since your trip to the bathroom was probably going to be much shorter than his. After a quick run through a nearly empty bathroom, you shot back over to the concession stand, standing back in the same line you were before, completely forgetting about your observation from your last trip. 
Grabbing both of your beers, you leaned against a pillar next to the concession stand, waiting for Javi to come back from the bathroom, when you heard the faintly familiar voices nearby, your stomach starting to turn once again, looking out at the crowd to see if you could find where they were coming from. You peered your head the opposite direction of where you came, feeling a sense of relief with no black or red jerseys in sight, cautiously tiling your eyes back the other way, only to feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach with the group of guys now standing in front of you. Your chest began to pound, squeezing your eyes shut, somehow hoping it would make you, or better yet, them disappear, but it was no use. 
“I told you it was her! How’s it going, Ice Princess? Long time, no see! I can’t fucking believe this. Paul! Paul! Get over here, I told you it was her, you motherfucker!” 
Letting out a deep breath, you reluctantly opened your eyes to see your ex-boyfriend Paul and his obnoxious group of friends standing in front of you, snickering and pointing like middle school boys in your general direction at your absolutely flabbergasted face. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…” You muttered under your breath, clenching your jaw and tightening your grip around your beers as the group approached you, pushing Paul front and center, as if you needed it to be any more obvious that his presence had been known. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped, glaring at Paul’s tall and lanky figure, his short blonde hair spiked up in the same way you absolutely hated, cocky grin stretched across his face as he approached you. 
“Damn, nice to see you too, Princess.” Paul laughed, his group of friends joining in and cackling behind, giving each other playful slaps. 
“Don’t fucking call me that.” You growled, giving him a deathly glare, now anxiously bouncing your foot, wondering where Javi was and what was taking him so long. “You didn’t answer my question, asshole.” 
“Calm down, Princess, Jesus. We’re here this weekend for an accounting conference downtown. Work paid for us to fly down today so we figured we’d catch the game since the Hawks were playing tonight. What the hell are you doing here?” Paul crossed his arms, giving you a condescendingly smug smirk, as if you were supposed to be happy to see him. 
“I live here? Remember that thing where you were a complete dickwad and cheated behind my back for 2 years and told me my brother deserved to die so it became incredibly clear to me that there is no one else on the fucking face of this earth I would rather be with less than you? Or is that too much for your idiot brain to remember?”  You were practically snarling at him at this point, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the angry pit in your stomach grew heavier and heavier each second you looked at Paul. God, where the hell was Javi? 
“Ouch…” One of the guys grimaced behind Paul’s back, the rest of them frowning in agreement, almost impressed by your brashness. “Told you this wasn’t gonna go over well, dude.” Another mumbled, giving Paul a little nudge. 
“Shut the fuck up, Eric.” Paul retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend, trying to save the little dignity you had just spared him. “Okay, okay, point taken. I did some not so great shit, sorry. Don’t need to be such a brat about it.” Holding up his hands in defense, Paul shrugged, giving you the most unapologetic look you had ever seen. “Listen, one of the guys said he saw a hot chick in a Blackhawks jersey, it sparked my attention, turns out it was you. Figured I’d come say hi, let you know you still look real fuckin’ good. See if maybe you wanna go get a drink or something after the game and catch up?” 
You were so heated and filled with rage locked in your sinister staring match with Paul that you hadn’t heard Javi come up behind you, making you flinch and spill some of the beer you had been holding as he quickly grabbed them out of your hands, setting them down on the ground before instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist. Even though you were still fuming, you felt a sense of relief wash over you to see that not only was Javi finally back, but that he had clearly also picked up on the fact that you did not look happy to see whoever had been talking to you. 
“These guys bothering you?” Javi asked, digging his fingertips into your hip, shooting Paul a menacing glare. Before you could say anything to try and explain what the hell was happening, Paul was scoffing at you and Javi, giving you a disgusted look as he pointed at him. 
“Who the fuck is this?” 
“Who the fuck are you?” Javi snapped back, his tone becoming increasingly harsher with the way Paul had responded to his presence. 
“A friend from Chicago-” 
“A friend from Chicago?! Shut the fuck up, Paul.” You groaned, jaw dropping in shock that he had the audacity to try and play it off to Javi like he was an old acquaintance you were happy to run into. “This is my fiancé, asshole.” 
“Fiancé? Yikes, talk about needing a fucking rebound, huh?” Paul laughed, his friends joining in behind him 
“What’s that supposed to mean, motherfucker?” You growled, lunging toward Paul, Javi grabbing you by your waist to keep you from getting any further, pulling you back towards him. The sight of Javi having to physically restrain you from trying to go after him only made Paul laugh harder, shaking his head and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh before speaking again. 
“God, you’re just as much as fucking mess as you were when we broke up, aren’t you? The boys always said I liked ‘em hot and crazy so guess we’re fuckin’ two for two, aren’t we, Princess? Good luck with this one, man. You got your fucking hands full.”  Looking you up and down as you tugged against Javi’s grasp, trying to free yourself, Paul let out one last huff of amusement before beginning to turn around and walk away, only to be stopped by a large hand yanking at the back of his jersey, forcing him to back around to meet Javi’s broad body looming over his. While you were full of rage and on the verge of trying to punch Paul’s teeth in, Javi had let go of his grasp with a look like he was ready to kill as he stepped towards Paul, jaw clenched and fist drawn as his grip on Paul’s jersey shifted from his back to under his neck, the fabric balled tight in his hands as he pulled Paul towards him. 
“Don’t you ever fucking talk about my future wife like that again or I’ll fucking kill you, you understand?” Javi threatened, his voice low and ominous as he drew Paul closer to his face, making sure he heard every word coming through the snarl of his gritted teeth. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
Javi knew you had no problem standing up for yourself. He knew you probably could have taken Paul down yourself if he’d let you go at him. But if there was one thing Javi knew for god damn sure, it was that he wasn’t above beating the shit out of anyone who threatened to even look at you the wrong way, let alone deliberately insult you. Just as well as he knew that, you also knew that Javi wasn’t the type to get in pissing matches with other guys just to assert his dominance. 
But the way he had stormed after Paul with no hesitation, hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt and threatening him with the dangerous rumble looming in his voice had the pounding in your chest quickly fading from anger to arousal at the way Javi’s instincts had gone into overdrive to protect you- and that, that was something you were not expecting to make you as hot and bothered as it was. 
“Jesus, okay man, okay!” Paul moaned, preemptively flinching and wincing his face as Javi leaned in towards him before letting him go and shoving him down, making him stumble as he tried to regain his balance. You would have thought that would have been plenty to get Paul to run off, tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment, but you had forgotten what a wonderfully delightful douchebag your ex was, always needing to get in the last word in any argument just to prove a point. “Fuckin’ have her man. Good fuckin’ riddance, bitch.” 
And just like that, without a second thought, without even a hesitation, hearing Paul mumble that last sentence under his breath was enough to have Javi’s hand balled in a fist, immediately winding up to punch Paul square in the face, instantly knocking him to the cold, hard cement of the arena floor in a sobbing, whimpering heap. 
Taking a step back to shake out his hand and admire the pitiful mess Paul had become, Javi let the slightest smirk slide across his face before immediately turning back to you, gently cupping your face, melting you with his sweet brown eyes filled with concern- A stark contrast from his stone cold demeanor only moments ago. “Are you okay, Hermosa?” 
“Are you okay? Javi… holy shit.” Grabbing Javi’s hand from the side of your face, pulling it down to examine his red knuckles, you darted your eyes back and forth between him and Paul, still writhing on the ground, blood dripping down his nose. You couldn’t help but feel your eyes go wide, butterflies swirling in your stomach as a tiny grin curled between your lips looking down at what Javi had done to your ex. You had never seen Javi get aggressive like this, and despite everything you’d ever thought about not needing a man to come swoop in and save you, it was taking everything in you not to pounce on him right then and there by how turned on you were by the fact he had just easily decked Paul to the ground in your defense. 
“Fuck you, motherfucker, I think you broke my nose!” Paul whimpered, wiping away blood with the back of his hand, trying to press himself back up to stand. “Security!” 
“Don’t even bother. We’re leaving. Fuck you too, Paul.” You scoffed, grabbing Javi’s hand as you tugged him away, proudly flipping Paul off as you passed by, pushing your way through the small audience that had formed around you from your tussle, several people giving you and Javi silent nods of approval after watching what had happened. Once you had dragged Javi far enough away, he paused, stopping in his tracks, forcing you to turn back towards him. 
“Osita. Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want us to have to leave because of me, we came all this way to watch the game and I, fuck- I don’t- I don’t know what got into me, but there was no way I was gonna fucking let him talk to you like that, I-” 
“Javi. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t care if the Blackhawks win, I don’t care if they lose, I don’t care if we get blown out 75-0, if you don’t take me back to our hotel room and fuck me right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.” Taking a few steps back where Javi had froze, you placed your hands on his chest, grabbing two big fist fulls of his jersey before pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot, wet kiss on his lips, biting down on your lip and raising an eyebrow at him as you pulled back. 
“Fuck, okay. Hermosa, are you sure?” Javi smirked, gently brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, resting his hand around your jaw. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything. Take me back to our room and fuck the shit out of me, Javier Peña.”
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It was then Javi’s turn to drag you off through the arena, immediately grabbing your hand and working through the crowd, practically running back to your hotel, your limbs immediately intertangling the moment you found yourselves alone in the elevator. Your hands ran along each other’s bodies, your kisses frantic and desperate down the empty hallway to your room, Javi barely able to pull away for long enough to tug his room key out of his pocket. Your back was pressed against the door, trapped under Javi’s body towering over you as he finally was able to slide the card in the door, the pressure of your weight pushing against it forcing it open as it unlocked. 
Your hands roamed needily as your mouths met with an electric intensity, stumbling towards the bed with faltering steps before your back hit the plush mattress, Javi leaning over you with hands planted on either side of your head, his kisses now trailing from your lips to your neck, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as his hands slid under your shirt, palming at your bra and digging his fingertips into your soft flesh. Your hands began to roam too, traveling from the tight grip they had around Javi’s jersey as you pulled him closer to you towards his jeans, reaching out to tug at the denim waistband before feeling Javi’s grip wrap around your wrist, pulling both hands above your head and pinning them to the mattress under the width of his broad grasp. 
“Nuh uh, Hermosa.” Javi tutted, a devilish smirk growing across his face as his eyes darkened, squeezing your wrists in his hand, arms still raised over you. He dipped his head down, placing slow, tender kisses along your collarbone before working his way up your neck and jaw, catching the breaths of your moans in his mouth as his lips pressed against yours. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum as many times as I want first, understand? This pussy’s all fucking mine.” 
Oh fuck. 
You could feel your stomach swirl with arousal from the growl in Javi’s voice, his words sending a shiver down your spine, eyes wide as you quietly nodded in agreement. Javi was a lot of things when the two of you fucked- tender, attentive, god, even when you wanted him to be rough with you, you could tell there was a part of him that always held back, because the thought of ever doing something that would come even close to hurting you was something he would never do. But the tone of his voice was something that you had never heard from him before- it was demanding, possessive, and holy fuck did it turn you on way more than you would have ever expected it to. 
Barely getting out any coherent verbal response to coincide with your head shaking in compliance, Javi let go of your wrists, standing back up, his body hovering over yours at the edge of the bed. “Good girl. Take your clothes off, baby.” Javi rasped, taking a step back to watch as you sat up, quickly pulling off your jersey and crewneck underneath before working your way down to your jeans, shuffling them down your legs and kicking them off your feet, leaving you in your bra and underwear, frantically trying to shed them too before Javi stopped you again, tilting your chin up towards him as his thumb traced along your jawline. He looked you up and down, his smirk widening across his face at the cute matching bra and panty set you had worn, knowing it was one of his favorites and that he’d enjoy your little surprise. “You wear this for me, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb now gently dragging down your bottom lip as he bit down on his own. 
“Mhmmmm.” You grinned, giving him a little wink, scooting yourself closer towards the edge of the bed to try and grab at his jersey and pull him close enough to work your hands under and run them along his stomach, sneaking them down to unbutton his jeans. You had only outstretched your arms halfway before his hand was around your wrist again, shaking his head in a playful disapproval. 
“So needy. What did I say, baby? Not until I say so, remember? Needy girls still have to be patient, don’t they?” Dropping your wrist, Javi turned around, taking a few steps back before bending down to unzip his suitcase by the end of the bed, shuffling around through his clothes before pulling out the blue and gold tie you had gotten him for his birthday and had worn to work earlier this morning. You cocked your head to the side as you watched him rummage through his clothes, your face still slightly confused when the only thing he pulled out was his tie, until your brain quickly put two and two together. “Maybe this will help you remember. Give me your hands.” Javi paused for a moment, his demeanor shifting back to the sweet and soft man you usually got in the bedroom, his puppy dog eyes staring at you for approval as he quietly mouthed “Is this okay?” to you as he ran his hand up and down the length of his tie. Fuck, did you love this man. 
Your jaw hung open in delighted shock, his suggestion going straight to your pussy, your underwear already soaked from the thought of what he was about to do. Feverishly, you nodded, sticking out your hands, wrists pressed together in front of you for Javi, smirking up at him with heavy lashes. 
“If it’s too much, or you want me to stop, just-” 
“I know. Do your worst, Peña.” 
With that, Javi’s sweet facade quickly shifted, taking the silky fabric of his tie and knotting it around your wrists, making sure to leave enough room to keep you comfortable as he wrapped his hands around your hips, picking you up to scoot you further back on the bed, caging his body over yours. He palmed at your bra, freeing your breast to roll your pebbled nipples between his fingers, the sensation making you writhe and moan beneath him, and he hadn’t even touched anything below your waist. 
“So fucking pretty. Wearing this just for me, knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, that no other man gets to have you like I have you.” His words were hot and heavy against your skin, making your breath hitch as his hand slid down your soft skin, snaking under the waistband of your underwear and running two fingers through your folds, dripping with your arousal. “Knowing that I’m the only one who makes you wet like this. Why is that, sweet girl? Whose pussy is this?” Javi mewled, dragging his fingers along your slit, collecting the slick pooling between your legs, watching you squirm under his touch. 
“It’s yours Javi. Fuck- Fuck baby, it’s all yours.” You whined as Javi’s now soaked fingers snuck out of your panties, bringing them to your mouth. 
“Suck.” He grinned, watching you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tangy taste lingering on his digits. “That’s right it is. All mine, forever.” Pulling his hand back, he replaced it with his mouth, crashing into you, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip with a passionate ferocity before sliding down your body, bringing himself face to face with the delicate lace covering your dripping heat. Hooking his fingers around the waistband, he slid your underwear down your legs, gently kissing around your thighs, already fighting against the silky fabric tied around your wrists, trying to reach down to tug the dark curls of his hair and pull him closer to you. His kisses traveled closer and closer to your core, his nose barely brushing your clit, making you moan. 
“Javi… Baby, please.” You whined, wiggling your bottom half against the cool, crisp sheets, needing for Javi to touch you, taste you, do something besides tease you like this. 
“Please what, Osita? Words, baby.” Javi smirked, slowly inching his way towards your center, wrapping his arms around your legs, gripping them in place. 
“Touch me, eat me out, fuck me, anything, fuck- please, please, I-” 
Before you could plead anymore, you gasped, feeling the broad stroke of Javi’s firm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, finally easing some of the ache of how worked up you had been since the moment you had watched him knock Paul to the ground. Unlike just moments ago, Javi began lapping you up like a man starved, feverishly flicking his tongue along your sensitive bundle of nerves, the pattern of his movements making you buck your hips towards his face, fighting against his strong arms holding you in place. 
Latching his lips, he sucked at your clit, the newfound sensation making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to grow, the inside of your thighs covered with the shiny slick of your arousal and Javi’s saliva as he worked ferociously at your heat. Your whimpers and groans became more and more labored, an all too familiar creeping sensation sliding up your legs and building in your belly with each movement of his mouth. Your heart began to pound and vision started to blur, arms tugging at the tie placed around your wrists as you felt your orgasm form.
“Oh fuck, fuck Javi. Right there baby, holy shit- fuck, I’m so close, I- I- Wa- wait, wait, what?” Only moments away from feeling pleasure rush though your body, you were left breathless and shocked to feel Javi jerk his mouth away, looking up at you with lust filled eyes and a satisfied grin, opposed to your confusion. “Javi, what? Baby, I was about to-” 
“You don’t cum until I say so. Be a good girl and ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you. Try again.” Javi replied, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow at you, smug smirk still stretched across his face. 
You could almost hear the gulp traveling down your throat as your jaw hung open, your breathing heavy and low, watching Javi watch you, patiently waiting for you to follow his request. “Please let me cum, Javi. Please baby, please, I need you to make me cum so badly.” 
“That’s more like it.” 
Diving back between your legs, Javi drank you up, his tongue quickly accompanied by two of his thick fingers, easily pushing into your entrance and bumping the soft, spongy spot inside you. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter, already so close before Javi had left you on edge, now finding yourself even closer with his fingers curled deliciously in your hilt. Again, the coil in your belly began to tighten, Javi’s fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you down on the bed. 
“Fuck, Javi. Don’t stop. Please, baby, please- shit- please let me cum, I’m so close, I’m so clo-ahhhhhhh.” Relief and euphoria flooded through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you, expletives and Javi’s name rolling off your tongue as you reached your high. But instead of letting you come back down, Javi’s mouth stayed pressed against your cunt, his hand still thrusting in and out of your heat as you clenched around his fingers, now realizing he wasn’t about to ease up any time soon. 
You could feel your legs trembling as Javi relentlessly licked and sucked, his fingers fucking into at an unforgiving pace, making your moans and whimpers even louder as squirmed, desprate to grab on to something while your hands fought against the buttery softness of his tie wrapped around your wrists. Already so worked up, it didn’t take you long to feel your second orgasm building, making you cum even harder than you had just moments ago, crying out as you gushed again around Javi’s fingers, the sweet sensation almost becoming too much with how feverishly he had been working to make you cum again. Finally, Javi detached his mouth, his chin and mustache glistening with your slick, a sly smile and lustful look in his eyes as his fingers stayed curled in your cunt, the lewd noises of your wetness coating the walls as he pushed against your g-spot. Your breath hitched, legs shaking as held you down with his free arm, draped across your stomach while you writhed under him. 
“Baby, it’s so much, fuck- I don’t think I can cum again, please, I-” 
“First you're begging me to let you cum, now you want me to stop? Don’t get to have it both ways, Osita.” Javi tutted, only intensifying the pace of his fingers curling inside you. “I’m making you cum as many times as I want, remember? You’re gonna give me one more on my fingers and then that pretty little pussy is gonna soak my cock while I fuck you, okay?” You were so worked up you could barely think straight, your clit still throbbing and cunt clenching around Javi’s hand, mind going blank as he hit the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “Answer me, baby. Tell me what you’re gonna do?” 
It took every ounce of brain power to try and find any way to respond, your head nodding frantically while you babbled. “I’m gonna cum again, please, please I will.” 
“That’s my good girl. God, you’re so fucking tight. Give me one more baby, I know you can. I can feel how close you are.” With only the lightest press of his thumb on your clit, you could feel yourself on the edge again, only needing a few more thrusts of his fingers before you were crying out again, tears welling in your eyes from how hard you came, every inch of your body feeling spent as Javi finally pulled out his hand, absolutely drenched in your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and sucking the juices clean, pridefully watching you sprawled out and spent on the bed. “Tastes so fucking sweet. Did so good for me, Hermosa.” He mewled, coming up to kiss you, the tangy taste of your arousal still lingering on his lips. “Bet that fucking asshole Paul could ever make you cum like that, huh? No one else gets to make you feel this good, isn’t that right, baby?” 
“Jesus Christ, no. No one’s ever made me feel like you do. You make me feel so good, Javi.” Javi’s mouth caught your moans in his as he pinned your tied arms above your head, nipping at your neck as he used his free hand to begin to work at his jeans, quickly unbuckling his belt and shuffling his pants and boxers down his legs. 
“Bet none of them could ever fuck you like I do either. Only your future husband gets to have you like this.” Javi freed his other hand, reaching over his back to tug his jersey over his head, leaving him just as bare as you. Grabbing your hips, Javi lifted you up, turning you over so your stomach lay flat on the bed with your arms splayed in front of you, guiding your lower half so you were on your knees, ass up on display for him. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh before reaching down to guide the tip of his painfully hard cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Only one who gets to see that pretty pussy dripping just for me.” He smirked, headfully pushing his length deep inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out, digging his fingertips into your hips as he pulled you back towards him, the stretch and fullness making you whimper. “Only one who gets to fill you up like this.” Slowly pulling back, he watched the shine of your arousal covering his cock before slamming back into you, repeating his methodical strokes. “Only one who gets to fuck a baby into you.” He grinned, his pace now quickening, planting a smack of his hand against your ass cheek, massaging the red mark it had left. You whined into the pillow, very much loud enough for Javi to hear, knowing damn well he had a way with words that made you lose your mind. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Hermosa? Getting you pregnant, carrying our baby so everyone knows you’re fucking mine?” 
“Yes, oh my god, fuck- yes.”
Javi was now pounding into you, his pace relentless as his length punched deep in your hilt, the angle he was fucking you letting you feel every inch of him splitting you open. Even with how full you felt, you couldn’t help but press your ass back into him, needing to feel all of him inside you. Reaching an arm underneath you, he thumbed at your clit, rubbing back and forth as his thrusts became more frantic and sloppy, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, fisting at the bedsheets in front of you, desperate to grip at something while your hands were bound. 
“I know you’re close, Hermosa. Let go, baby. Cum all over cock before I fuck myself so deep inside you and fill you full of me.” You could feel your heart begin to race again, your vision going white with each frantic thrust, the coil in your belly tightening further and further, the sounds falling from your mouth almost borderline pornagraphic. For the fourth time tonight, the tingling in your legs and stomach had built to a breaking point, feeling your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave, cumming so hard it felt like your soul was leaving your body. Knowing you had reached your high, Javi found himself chasing his own, each thrust more frantic than the last, his thighs slapping against your ass relentlessly as his words fell incoherently from his lips. 
“That’s it, sweet girl. Fuck, I’m close too. Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” With a loud groan, Javi came deep inside you, spilling every last drop, coating your warm walls with his spend. Even after he had finished, Javi stayed buried in your cunt, watching the mix of your spend drip down your legs before slumping into you, his chest resting on your back as you melted into the mattress beneath him. The two of you laid there for a moment, your breaths rising and falling in sync, finally breaking the ragged silence with a little laugh to yourself, causing Javi to finally pull out so he could get a better look at you. “What’s so funny, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, watching you roll over onto your back, revealing the blissed out grin stretched across your face. 
“Javi… that was so fucking hot. Holy fuck. Where the hell did that come from?” You giggled, playfully poking at him as he laid down next to you, reaching over to untie your hands and pull you in to rest your head on his bare chest. 
“It was okay? I don’t- I don’t know, I knew you told me Paul was a piece of shit, but seeing him treat you like that-It just set something off in me, I guess.” Javi sighed, almost reluctantly, gently stroking the ends of your hair as he held you, feeling a little embarrassed at how possessive he had gotten, knowing the perfectly capable and independent woman you were. 
“Was it okay? Javi, I never want to see Paul again, ever in my fucking life. That being said, if I get to watch you sock him in the face and then have you fuck me like that…” Your voice trailed, sarcastically snickering, giving Javi a little nudge as the two of you laughed. “You’ve done a lot of very hot things since I’ve met you, Javier Peña, but I do think knocking Paul out without hesitation is pretty high on the list. I am a little sad I didn’t get a swing in, but we’ll call it good.” 
“He fucking deserved it. No one gets to talk to you like that, ever. I know you don’t need me to protect you, and that you can handle things on your own, but I-” 
“Baby, I know that you know. I appreciate you saying that. It doesn’t change the fact that watching you get all protective over me was really fucking hot.” You smirked, pressing you hand against his chest to push yourself up, meeting your lips with his, running your hands through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “And also…” Your grin grew wider as you reached down on the bed, picking up Javi’s tie, gently swinging it in your hands, “looks like we’re gonna have to get you some more ties, huh?” 
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The two of you woke up the next morning, bodies intertwined together between the crisp hotel sheets, soft sunlight spilling into your window over the Dallas skyline. From the first night he had slept in your bed, you had come to learn there were few things in this world that you loved more than being wrapped in Javi’s arms, your sleepy bodies still warm and lazy as you curled closer between the sheets, feeling like there was no one else in that moment that existed besides the two of you. 
While you and Javi had plenty of lazy mornings together, something about being away for the weekend had both of you relishing in the syrupy slowness of your Saturday morning- sweet and soft sex tangled between your sheets, a long, hot shower where Javi insisted on letting you relax while he washed your hair, followed by curling up in the obnoxiously fluffy hotel robes while the two of you dried off, watching Sports Center and planning out the rest of your day. 
You had decided to spend your afternoon exploring downtown, starting off at a sandwich shop near your hotel, and while both of you agreed that your sandwiches were good, they were no Alejandro’s. You spent some time after at the Dallas Museum of Art, with equal time spent with you making sarcastic commentary about some of the more interesting paintings and sculptures, trying your best to make Javi laugh, and Javi admiring you admire the various pieces of art, thinking to himself that you were more beautiful than any picture or statue he could find inside.
After your tour through the museum, you and Javi meandered through some of the stores downtown, both of your favorites being the pastry shop with the most delicious cupcakes you had ever tasted in your entire life, and although you insisted you didn’t need to get any extras, Javi knew you well enough to know that you were going to want one later, and ordered two more to take back with you to the hotel. 
Since last night’s dinner had been more causal to try and make sure you got to the game on time, you had agreed to pick somewhere nicer to try for dinner tonight and then go out to a bar or two after for some drinks. While you were already enough of a chronic overpacker, trying to decide on an outfit for tonight had taken up the majority of the real estate in your suitcase, your options now spread out across the bed as you stood wrapped in your towel post-shower, contemplating what to wear. 
“You’ll look beautiful in anything, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, back pressed his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 
“You’re sweet, Jav. I don’t know, I don’t wanna be too casual, but I don’t want to be too dressy either, can you just pick for me?” You sighed, gesturing to the variety of clothes piled on the mattress. 
“You sure you want me to pick?” Javi grinned, placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze. 
“Yes, I’m sure, but I’m already 99.9% sure I know which one you’re gonna choose.” You giggled, crossing your arms over your chest as Javi made his way towards the bed, looking through his choices before he picked up a strappy, mid length black dress, raising an eyebrow at you and passing it off in your direction with a boyish smirk on his face. “Vegas wins again, Peña.” Outstretching your arm, you took the dress from his hands, playfully rolling your eyes at your correct prediction. 
“What, like you can blame me? You can pick out what I wear too, if you want. I’m gonna hop in the shower while you get ready and I’ll be out in a few.” Javi smiled, peppering ticklish kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you squeal and squirm to not even notice Javi’s hand reaching up to tug at your towel, making it drop to the floor and leaving you naked. 
“JAVI!” You shouted, watching Javi shrug his shoulders in satisfaction, giving you a wink as he headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You shook your head, laughing to yourself as you threw the dress back on the bed, collecting your rejected outfits and tossing them back in your suitcase. You looked back over your shoulder, making sure the door was closed before pulling out the lingerie Javi had gotten you for Christmas that had been hidden underneath the rest of your clothes, quickly slipping it on to wear under your dress to surprise Javi with later. You shuffled on the dress that Javi had picked, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror before getting out the rest of your toiletries and makeup to finish getting ready. 
You had finished with your makeup by the time Javi had gotten out of the shower, finding yourself in the middle of curling your hair as Javi stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping a white, fluffy towel around his waist, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw you. “Fuck me…” He whispered under his breath, still just loud enough for you to hear him and turn your head in his direction, blushing over the awestruck look on his face. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot. I’m a lucky fucking man, god damn.” Javi smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you like a puppy with his chin resting in his hand. 
“Well, someone did a good job picking out the outfit.” You giggled, biting down on your lip at his reflection in the mirror. “I picked out some stuff if you want to wear any of it.” You nodded over to the other side of the bed, where you had set out a dark wash pair of jeans and a black long sleeved button up shirt. 
“Or…” Javi grinned, pushing himself off the edge of the bed to stand, grabbing a handful of your ass and resting his hands on your hips, “You can take your dress off and then we can both put clothes back on later.”
“Your offer is very tempting, but you made reservations for 7:30 and it’s 7:05, mister.” You sighed, turning around to face him, playfully poking his chest. “Believe me, there will be plenty of undressing when we get back. Now go get changed, ya goof.” 
Somehow, the two of you both managed to have enough willpower to make it to your dinner reservation on time, you finding yourself to be just as bad as Javi after watching him put on the outfit you’d chosen. While the two of you knew the restaurant was much nicer than the one you had picked yesterday for dinner, you didn’t realize it was going to be this nice. Not that Laredo didn't have suitable restaurants, but to say they had anything fancy was a bit of a stretch, and to say they had anything this fancy would have been an outright lie. The restaurant was dimly lit, decorated with contemporary fixtures, soft music playing in the background, the waitstaff even dressed to the nines as you approached the hostess at the front booth. 
“Hi, we should have a reservation for 2 at 7:30. Should be under Peña.” Javi smiled resting his hand on the small of your back under your jacket as the two watched the girl flip through her notebook looking for Javi’s name. 
“Perfect, I have you right here. Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” She grinned, grabbing two menus and leading you through the restaurant. The grip of Javi’s hand on your back as you followed the hostess to your seats only tightened, hearing her accidental slip up. “Alright, we have you two sitting right here, and your waiter will be with you shortly!” Gesturing over to your table, your hostess set down the menus and was on her way, leaving Javi to immediately pull out your chair for you before setting into his. 
“Thanks, Mr. Peña.” You giggled, gently tapping his leg with your foot under the table. “We’re two for two this weekend with strangers assuming we’re married. Not that I’m mad about it.” 
“I feel like we are. I don’t know, I think of you as my wife already, I guess. I accidentally called you my wife at work the other week and the guys thought we got married without everyone knowing.” Javi shrugged, reaching across the table to grab your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the ring on your hand. 
“We’ll call that one a happy accident. I think of you as my husband too, I don’t know, it kind of feels like we’re married, I guess it’s just a formality at this point. Only 4 more months.” You beamed, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go to lift up the menu in front of you, your jaw dropping in shock as you read through the options. “Okay, I knew this place was gonna be nice, but 45 dollars for salmon? 60 for steak? Are they covered in gold dust and unicorn tears? I am many things, Javier Peña, but I am not worth a 60 dollar steak, let me tell you that.” You grimaced, now looking through the drink section, mumbling to yourself. “God, do they even have beer here?” Javi laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his own menu, browsing through his options. 
“Shut up, you dork. You’re more than worth a 60 dollar steak. Don’t worry about it, okay? You deserve to be taken to nice places like this, whether you agree with me or not. But my guess is no, that they are probably not serving Miller Lite here.” 
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Despite your sticker shock for food prices, you and Javi had a great rest of your dinner, chatting about wedding and house planning, favorite things about your trip so far, and somehow ending in an argument about the best Star Wars movie after the two of you had a few drinks each in you. Knowing you wanted to go out to a bar or two after dinner, but having no idea where to go, you asked the waitress for her suggestions at favorite places, recommending a bar a block down the street, telling you it was one of the most popular places downtown at the moment. Given her rave review, you and Javi decided to give it a try, tipsily making your way down the street, still continuing your Star Wars argument the entire trip there. 
As you entered the bar, you were greeted with the overwhelming sound of loud, upbeat music blasting through the speakers on the dance floor and bright, flashing lights dancing above the crowd in the dark and packed room. “I guess she wasn’t kidding when she said this place was popular.” You half yelled in Javi’s ear, gesturing out to the crowd in front of you, neither of you realizing the atmosphere of the bar was a bit more club-like than either of you had expected. “I don’t think I’ve been to a place like this since college.” 
Javi’s grip tightened around your waist as several patrons brushed past you, drunkenly shouting along to the song playing over your voices. “We can go somewhere else if you want to, we don’t have to stay here, Hermosa.” 
“I don’t know, it looks like it could be fun. Looks like there’s a lot of people dancing,” you smirked, pointing over to the dance floor, “you really gonna pass up a chance to grind on me in public, Jav? I sure hope that answer isn’t no.” Taking a step back, you subtly pressed your ass into Javi’s crotch, making him let out a quiet groan before pulling away, turning around to face toward him and give him a little shrug. 
“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, an equally intrigued smirk spreading across his face as he looked down at you. “No way in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Hermosa.” 
“Then get a girl a drink and take me dancing, Peña.” Grabbing Javi’s hand, you tugged him towards the bar, following eagerly behind you through the crowd. Javi ordered both your drinks from one of the bartenders- a woman who seemed to spend a little to long for your liking touching Javi’s arm to get his attention when his whiskey and your gin and tonic were ready, flashing him a cute smile as Javi handed over the cash from his wallet to pay for your drinks. If you were any taller and able to see over the heads of the people standing in front of you at the bar, you really hoped she would have seen the scowl drawn across your face as you watched her try to flirt with Javi. Javi, seemingly oblivious to the interaction, handed your drink off to you as the two of you made your way to an empty booth on the side of the dance floor, taking a hefty sip before looking back up at Javi. “She seemed nice.” You grimaced, nodding back over towards the bar. Javi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink before setting it down on the table, raising an eyebrow at you. 
“Is someone jealous?” 
“No… She was just giving you the eyes, and held your arm way longer than I’m sure the average bartender does. I mean, she’s got good taste…” You grumbled, trying your best not to glare back over at the bar. Downing the rest of his drink in a large gulp, he slid his empty drink to the side, reaching out to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. He bit down on his lip, a lustful look pooling in his eyes as he watched you take another sip. 
“Why don’t you finish your drink and we’ll go give her something to be jealous of, hm?” 
Your eyes went wide at his response, slurping down the rest of your gin and tonic way faster than you probably should have before setting your empty cup next to his, walking around to the opposite side of the booth where Javi sat, grabbing two fist fulls of his shirt while you pulled him in for a long, tender kiss. “I like the sound of that.” 
Intertwining hands, you worked your way out to the dance floor, tangled between humid, hot bodies and the thumping of the bass to whatever upbeat pop song was blasting in the background in time with the flashing colorful lights beaming across the crowd. From the moment you found yourself deep enough in the mix of people, Javi’s hands were instantly all over you, working their way down your sides and landing on your hips, digging his fingertips into the fabric of your dress to turn you around so your ass was pressed against his jeans, grinding into the denim. At this point, the both of you had enough alcohol in your systems to not be concerned about anyone else around you, your hips rocking to the rhythm of the music, pressing your ass further into Javi’s crotch with each sway, only forcing his grip to tighten, feeling his bulge beginning to grow in his pants. Playing into the sensation building between both of you, you brought one of your arms up, reaching up to grab the hair at the nape of Javi’s neck, his curls feeling more defined from the sweat radiating off the dance floor. You could feel his head buried in your shoulder, feeling his hot breath against the sheen of your skin. 
“Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy, Osita. Feel what you do to me, baby? Bet if I reached down and felt that pretty little pussy she’d be dripping for me, too.” Javi rasped, letting his hands slide down your hips towards the front of your thighs. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you that had lowered your inhibitions so much- maybe it was the one too many gin and tonics, maybe it was the heat of the crowd moving to the music, maybe it was feeling how hard Javi was pressed against your ass just from dancing. Whatever it was, it was enough to have you turning around, throwing your arms around Javi’s shoulders, pressing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. 
“Touch me and find out.” 
Your preposition had Javi’s jaw practically dropping to the floor, taking a moment to compose himself before looking back down at you to make sure he hadn’t misheard what you had said, but the lustful grin between your cheeks was all he needed to know he had heard you loud and clear. With one hand on your ass, the other snaked between your bodies, tugging up the hem of your dress, his palm gliding across the soft skin of your inner thighs before cupping your pussy, wetness pooling in the lacy fabric of your underwear, making his eyes grow even wider, not only from how wet you were, but from the feeling of his fingers grazing over your panties, knowing the texture meant you were wearing something out of the usual rotation, something you’d worn on purpose to get his attention. 
“Fucking soaked, sweet girl. Gonna let me take you back to our room and let me ruin those pretty panties even more? What’re you wearing under there, baby?” 
“Why don’t you take me back and see.” 
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Yesterday, you were convinced you couldn’t have walked any faster back to your hotel room after the hockey game, but the pace at which you and Javi were speeding down the sidewalk had you questioning if your speed could even qualify as walking, not sprinting. Unlike your luck yesterday, you shared your elevator ride back up to your room with 2 other strangers, making the tension of your trip up to your floor almost palpable as you used every ounce of restraint from pouncing on Javi right there in the elevator. 
As soon as the door sprung open and no one was behind you, the two of you crashed down the hallway, once again fumbling with to find your room key, the added element of your tipsiness only making it more difficult. One way or another, your door unlocked, your bodies dancing in a tangled mess towards the bed, pausing for a moment as Javi’s open suitcase caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Your brain spun for a moment, reeling with the memories of last night, a looming question now racing in your mind as you spotted Javi’s blue and gold tie peeking out of his bag. 
Would Javi let you tie him up?  
“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion as he watched you stare at his suitcase. You could see the wheels in his head turning, a lightbulb going off after a few moments, grabbing your chin and tilting it up towards him. “You want me to tie you up again, sweet girl?” He smirked, his voice low and gruff as he gripped around your jaw. Gently, you began shaking your head, Javi’s face immediately dropping in confusion, letting go of his grasp. 
“What if I told you…” You paused, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the bed, “I wanted to tell you what to do. See if you can be a good boy for me or maybe I’ll have to tie you up, too.” Giving Javi a little nudge, you pushed him to sit down on the bed, leaving you standing in front of him, rubbing your hands up and down the denim covering his thighs, watching your words go straight to his cock as his bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a breathy moan escaped out of his mouth. Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw agape as his tongue darted out between his lips as you threw your leg over his lap, straddling his hips.
 “Is that okay?” You whispered, nipping at his ear, making him let out a low groan. He nodded softly in silent reassurance, almost too stunned to speak, slowly working his hands up your ass and thighs, trying to push up the hem of your dress. Grabbing his wrists, you stopped him in his tracks, pulling back slightly with a playfully scolding look on your face. “Nuh uh. I didn’t get to touch last time, you don’t get to touch me until I say.” 
“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, carefully drawing his hands back to rest on the edge of the bed, his eyes desperately filling with need and want. Reaching down, you tugged your dress over your head, revealing the cute, red and lacy lingerie set Javi had gotten you for Christmas. As if Javi’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any further, it was now practically through the floor, finding himself absolutely gawking at you in admiration. “Holy fuck.” Javi gulped, trying his best to keep any ounce of composure he still had. He couldn’t help but spring his hands towards you, running them up and down your sides and over the delicate fabric, left with utter shock and disappointment as you swung off his lap, standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed over your chest. 
“What did I just say, baby? Only good boys get to touch, remember?” A devilish smirk spread across your lips watching how flustered Javi had already become, biting down on his finger to try and relieve some of the tension of not being able to touch you. 
“I’ll be good, baby. I promise.” He groaned helplessly, staring up at you with pleading eyes. 
“I don’t know, Javi, seems like you’re having a hard time with pretty simple instructions.” You tutted, very purposefully bending down with your ass in his face to pick up the tie dangling from his suitcase. “Guess we’ll try one more time to see if you remember, but if you can’t, maybe this will help.” 
“You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?” Javi rasped, shaking his head, running his hand over his face. 
“You’re a big boy, you’ll be okay.” You winked, tossing his tie next to him before going back to straddling his lap, running your hands up and down his chest, slowly working your way down his shirt, one button at a time, planting a hot kiss on his skin with each new button that came undone. “Promise you’re gonna be good?” You smirked, tugging the shirt off his arms and letting it fall on the bed. 
“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question. 
“Good.” You began grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you turned around, back pressed to his chest, sitting in his lap. You continued grinding your ass into Javi’s crotch, gently tugging at the straps of your bra and letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. Slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor in front of you, leaving Javi still only able to see your bare back knowing how crazy it would drive him that he couldn’t even see what he was missing, let alone touch. Still facing away, you bent down, sticking your ass towards his face, slowly shimmying the lacy red thong down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. That was what broke him, his fingers digging into the plump skin making you shoot up and turn back around towards him.
 Reaching next to him on the bed, you picked up his tie in one hand, grabbing his wrists with the other, and gently began wrapping the buttery fabric around him. “So much for that, huh? Naughty boys have to learn to follow the rules, don’t they, baby?” You playfully pouted, batting your eyes at him. Good thing I can help teach you, hmmm?” With his hands sufficiently tied, you took your finger, poking his chest and pushing him over, gesturing for him to shuffle further up on to the bed, now laying flat on his back with his hands above his head. 
“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his jeans down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness. 
“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had stained his boxers. “God, you’ve got the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You mewled, barely grazing your fingertips over his bare thighs, making him shutter. 
“Osita, please. Please, baby. I need you to touch me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft. 
“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the slick that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him. 
With a few pumps of your hand, you leaned over, letting the spit from your mouth drip down over his dick before bending your head down and letting your tongue graze his head. Your lips sucked around his tip, lazily working your way down his length, taking him inch by inch as you hollowed out your cheeks, nestling your nose in the curls of his hairs at his base, the musky scent of him filling your nose. You began bobbing your head, your mouth engulfing him with each rise and fall, looking up at him through heavy lashes, your eyes almost as wide as his as you watched him crumble under your touch. 
“Fuck, oh shit- Oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good baby, Jesus- fuck me.” Javi squeezed his eyes shut, his ramblings becoming more ragged and desperate with each word, almost embarrassed at how quickly he found himself feeling like he was going to fall apart. You could feel his cock beginning to pulse in the warmth of your mouth, only making you pick up your pace, feeling the saliva drool down the corners of your cheeks and tears welling in the corners of your eyes. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck- I’m close, I’m clo- wa- wait, fuck. Fuck, baby, no. Please.” Javi whined, his head popping up to look at you, your mouth hovering above his dick with a smirk on your face. 
“What?” You teased, gently massaging his sack in your hands, almost able to see the veins in his cock throbbing as you had left him on edge, unable to finish. “You only said you needed me to touch you. Never said anything about needing me to make you cum.” 
“Jesus Christ…” Javi groaned, resting his head back on the pillows behind him, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Letting out another gulp and deep breath, he raised his head again, his big, brown eyes pleading with you with a ferocious need and longing. “Please, Osita. Please, make me cum. Please, I need you to.” 
“That’s more like it. Such a good boy, asking so nicely. I’ll let you cum, baby. But only if it’s inside me and you fill me up so good you’re dripping down my thighs.” You shuffled your body forward, letting your soaking heat graze over his cock, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. 
“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” Javi moaned, struggling against the silk tie wrapped around his wrists, giving anything to feel the soft skin of your body in his hands. 
“So needy, sweet boy.” You tutted, the both of you gasping as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. No one else fills me up like you do. You like knowing you’re the only one who can make me feel like this? The only one I want to fuck me? Marry me? Fuck as many babies as you want into me?” 
The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck yes, oh fuck Osita. Shit- I can’t wait to marry you. I wanna be your husband. I wanna fuck a baby into you so badly, see you all beautiful and pregnant. I can’t wait to cum inside you knowing I could really knock you up. Fuck meeee.” Javi whimpered, bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, your demeanor quickly beginning to crumble, becoming just as dire as him. 
The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your hotel room as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest. 
“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.” 
“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.” 
In all the times you had fucked, you had never seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had walked through the doors of your hotel room, and god, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You thought that you’d be strong enough to keep your composure, that while Javi fell apart, you would keep it together, but any prospects of that were long gone by now. 
The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as he quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside you, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. With a few more deep breaths, you unstraddled Javi, the loss of him inside you making the both of you hiss, crawling up the bed to untie his hands and lay your head on him as he wrapped his newly freed arms around you. 
“Holy fuck…” Javi muttered under his breath, half laughing to himself as he ran his hand over his face before bringing it back down to stroke circles along the bare skin of your back. 
“Was that okay?” You questioned, almost timidly, looking up at his blissed out face. 
“Osita… Jesus Christ, that was fucking incredible. You’re sexy when you’re bossy.” He teased, tickling your ribs, making you squeal and squirm under his touch, peppering you with soft kisses while you swatted at him to make him stop. 
“Oh shut up, you dork.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at him, laying your head back down on his chest after finally getting him to torture you with his tickles. 
“I’m being serious, Hermosa. You know I think your confidence is so fucking sexy. You can boss me around any time.” 
“Any time?” You perked up, mischievous look glistening in your eyes. “So… if I told you to go get me that cupcake from earlier and bring it to me, you’d do it?” 
“I thought you said you didn’t need another one, bossy pants.” Javi smirked, staring back at you in complete and utter adoration. 
“Well, Javier Jesús Peña, turns out you know me better than I know myself. Sooooo… cupcake? Please?” You playfully pouted, batting your lashes at him. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss into your messy hair before letting out a sigh as he pushed himself out of the bed, nakedly wandering over to the shelf by your door where he had stashed the cupcakes earlier, bringing them over and climbing back into bed with you. 
“Thank you, you’re the best.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge as you took a big bite of the cupcake, letting out a content sigh. “On another positive note, I definitely think that we’ve given this hotel room a run for its money before we break in our one on the honeymoon in a few months.” 
“Well…” Javi grinned, gently kissing at your neck, up along your jawline, rubbing his hand up your thigh and circling his fingertips at the soft flesh, “A little extra practice never hurt anyone.”
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