#I swear to god the line: I'm just a child but I'm not above violence my mother raised me better than that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adora-but-ginger · 1 year

Text

scrawled in sand

pairing: joel miller x gender neutral!reader

summary: a fight leads to a mistake that may be costly, and Joel might lose someone, again.

word count: 4.5k(ish)

warnings: typical tlou violence and the warnings that come with those, nothing in detail but some sexual thoughts so 18+, weapons/knives, mentions of the loss of children, joel is kind of being an asshole at some points, angst, fluff at the end though, reader is like a feral cat joining a group of feral cats, swearing, hallucinations kind of, spoilers for episodes eight and nine, talking of death, no y/n used, umm i think that's it

masterlist

a/n: please don't ask me what this is, i don't have an answer. i chugged it out on a whim yesterday and make some edits today to fit the story better, and i'm currently trying to fill the hole that the end of the show has left so here this is! pedro as joel truly makes my brain go brrr, this series is fr consuming my life oh my god. thank you for reading! <3

one more thing! don't repost my stories, because only those who don't cover their cough or sneeze do that, and frankly that's embarrasing.

enjoy!-ella

credit to gif owner!

Joel,

The letter started, and he felt the all too familiar feeling of guilt pool in his gut. The argument from earlier that morning back had ran through his head on repeat since you left him standing alone in the middle of the street, with nothing but the horses in the near distance remaining as his company.

He didn't know why he said what he did, or at least he didn't want to admit it. The ghosts of his past had been haunting his every waking moment the closer he got to you, after Ellie had asked you to come with them in Kansas City. To say you were a force to be reckoned with would be an understatement, and he frequently glanced to your features and saw the same fires that burned the kindle of broken memories in himself.

You were dangerous, fearless, and morally questionable. This meant that Ellie nearly fuckin' worshipped you, and that Joel followed not too far behind.

The fact that you were nearly breathtaking to him was also an added benefit. Had he met you before, Tommy definitely would've chastised him for fawning after someone so out of his league.

You were brutal, and had made your grand entrance by saving Ellie and his life when he thought he had failed once again. Even months after you had joined their little duo, he still hadn't figured out how he hadn't seen you in the shadows. You had gotten rid of the person holding the weapon to Ellie's head just as they were about to pull the trigger, the shock of this third unannounced party granting you the time to take care of the one suffocating Joel.

Apparently, you drew a line of morals somewhere, but the line must've been distinct only to you. You had introduced yourself to the two after making sure they were both okay enough to continue, and it didn't take him more than another twenty-four hours to know that somewhere along the line, you had lost a child too. He had never expressed his inference out loud, but only someone who personally knew the pain of losing a child like that would save a kid like that.

From then on, he could tell that his silent vow to protect Elle at all costs was shared with another--an unspoken agreement going between the two of you.

It didn't take long for his 'crush' (as Ellie called it) to develop for you, though he denied it at any and all costs. How could he not? You could take out a clicker in the most agile way he had ever seen, and still walk away looking saccharinely angelic. His angel of death, he called you, after a night of too much stale alcohol surrounded by the sounds of crackling embers and an audience of the stars. You had laughed, and it was the first time he had made you produce that sound.

To say that the thought made him a little weak in the knees would put it mildly, and he thanked the onlookers of dust and ice above him that he was sitting down.

You had told him that that was probably one of the nicest nicknames you had been gifted by another in the last two decades.

He responded with a small smile, one that hadn't seen the light of day in much too long.

You said you liked it, the way his eyes looked with the little crinkles, and got up to stand watch. He noticed the scar that adorned the length of your collarbone for the first time, and let his eyes travel downward for the briefest of moments, before he lectured himself on why he couldn't think like that, of you, of anyone.

Your guard slowly went down for him after that night under the stars, but that didn't mean that you were any less brutal. You plowed through infected with so much as a blink of an eye and a scoff, and could bring a person to their knees, in want of lust or life, often taking the latter.

You two had become close after the winter that he nearly died at the University and Ellie and themself had gone through some of the most trauma one could experience. In fact, the caring whispers you and him had shared during those weeks, well, he damn near thought he made them up out of how unreal they seemed. He remembers the feeling of your lips against his cheek, of you falling asleep on one side of him with Ellie on the other while he nearly bled to death.

He knew he loved you then, but chalked it up to his dying mind.

And then the incident with the hospital happened, and even though you had barely the slightest clue as to who these firefly folks were, you had informed him afterward that when you woke up and pestered Marlene into telling you what was happening with Ellie you blacked out--that there was a reason as to why he had given you that nickname all those moons ago.

Because even if these people thought they could make a cure, who was to say that it worked? These scientists, with barely any resources to perform the necessary tests, had no guarantee that they wouldn't fuck it up, or that they would even did the surgery right had they performed it. No practice on what to do, no clue as to if they even acquire the correct sample. In fact, the only thing that they could guarantee would be the blood of a fourteen-year-old on their hands.

Joel had met you halfway through his sweep of the first floor, the fireflies making the dire mistake of keeping you two on the same level.

He decided to lie to Ellie about what had happened earlier then, and you respected his decision to a point, but you told her that you couldn't speak for him, and that you had found the two of them through no innocent manner.

So now here the three of you were, in Jackson, Wyoming, with him head-over-heels for you, and you feeling quite the same. A home was given to you all, and Tommy had rightly taken up his role of annoying younger brother, reminding him that not only did he know those who were ordained within the town (should the time come for you to become him and Maria's sibling-in-law), but that it would contain the looks that those of all genders gave you.

Like he said before, you were breathtaking, and now he wasn't the only one who knew that.

You had let your guard down a little sine you all returned, but he could tell you were struggling with it. Acting as a parental figure to Ellie had come easy to you, which meant that Tommy wasn't the only one constantly pushing him to make a move on you. He wouldn't be surprised if Ellie and his brother had a damn bet going on as to who could get him to say something first. And even though you two shared a room and a bed, nothing was set in stone. You would only really go out when the other two were, besides patrols, which you damn nearly craved according to Tommy.

It was hard for you and him, but the effort was there. He would see a more relaxed version of you in the nights, with the musings spoken between you and him after the sun had set only heard when your arms were around him in bed and the lull of sleep was around the corners.

So, when you both came back after a significantly rough patrol and something within him snapped at your recklessness, the feeling so long subdued came out from the depths of both of your hearts.

"You need to start being more careful of your surroundings!" He had sharply huffed at you after you had gone in with your usual guard and lack of self-care. The shock at his sudden outburst on your face spoke for the both of you. He didn't know why he was so upset, this was nothing new, but his fears had started to best him.

"Pardon me?" You had said after removing the saddle from your horse.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, your actions soon mirroring his. "You can't just go into spaces we haven't checked alone all because you feel up to it."

"I went in there because I knew that there were infected, I don't get why this is anything different than the usual." The shock had quickly faded into confusion at his accusation. As much as he knew your readiness for conflict of the physical, he knew that you were never one for that of the verbal. That was one difference between the two of you--you insisted that problems were to be figured out and dissolved as soon as they arose, for there was no point in letting an argument brew.

"It's just--" he shut his eyes and took a breath, trying to keep himself in check, recognizing the fear that still remained from how fast you bolted into the abandoned barn. "We're a family now, you n' Ellie n' I, and you have to start caring more about what you do and your safety."

"I have been, Joel. So a stalker got a jump on me when I turned my back, but it's happened to the best of us. I wasn't bit, I'm okay." You had reached for his arm, but he moved his stance back just enough for you to halt your motion.

Something hardened in his eyes at that, feelings of what could've happened if you were bit flashing across his mind like a bad movie. "What if we hadn't been on your six? Huh? What would've happened if you did get bit? I couldn't live with myself, and you know damn well that Ellie wouldn't take the news well either. What you do doesn't just impact you anymore. That's all I'm saying."

You had sighed, nodding. "You have to see where I'm coming from too though, love." Pet names had flowed relatively frequently between the two of you since the beginning of the winter, but he still wasn't used to them. He liked em', loved em' even, but a little voice in his head always told him he was getting too close. You both hadn't said those three words, but he was terrified that he would push you away the moment they entered the air.

"I just, never mind." He turned to walk away, which was his first mistake. He knew you wouldn't let the subject just go like that.

"No, no, let's talk this through. You have done the same thing countless times, hell I've had to pry those fuckers off of your back more than I should, but you still continue to do it."

He spoke with his back still turned. "Yeah, but with me it's different."

Mistake number two.

You had both moved to the street now, the lights of early morning filling the colour palette surrounding you both.

"What do you mean it's different? What, you think I'm weaker than you or somethin'?" Your voice held more bite with the claim, and he screwed his eyes tight. He knew that your ability to hold your own was a touchy subject at best, after you explained your amount of loss long ago, but it didn't even cross his mind that his words could've been interpreted in a different manner.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." He was getting annoyed, he was tired, but he turned to face you nonetheless. It was too early for a disagreement, but alas, here you both were.

"Yeah? Because that's not what it sounded like."

"Listen," your name tumbled from his lips. "You know that I know you're not weak, I have never doubted your strength and I never will. Goddammit. I just think that you go in over your head sometimes, thinkin' that you can handle more than you can."

Mistake number three.

"I know damn well what I can and cannot handle, Joel." Your chest was starting to raise faster, and he could tell that you were getting fed up, but so was he.

"Can you just listen to me for once?!" his tone became louder with every word. Memories of his life before ran through his head, alongside your image. If you wanted to be so stubborn, he could too. Maybe that's why he said what he did next. "You know what? No. I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"For the past how many patrols, you've come back with some sort of scratch because you don't care about what happens to you, and I'm sick of it--"

"--I've been working on it, and you know that. This isn't an easy change for me."

"But you're not workin' hard enough!" his voice was raised now, and he saw your resolve start to break. The dam had opened, and now the flood was rushing in. "If you're goin' to go and get yourself hurt, go do it away from me. In fact, it might just be better if you go on and leave, save us the trouble of worryin'." The words were leaving his mouth before he could even realize what he was saying, and he regretted every word that he processed.

"You don't mean that." He could see your breath hitch, your chest stumble as you spoke.

"I'll be damned if I don't. Can't have us thinkin' you're not gonna make it back if there's no back for you to come to."

"Joel, I am trying to work on getting better at it." Your voice matched his tone now, the anger seeping through you. "You don't see me pointing out every one of your flaws, and goddammit you have your fair share. You know I love you regardless, and--"

Mistake number four.

His body tensed up at your accidental confession, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had said.

"What did you just say to me?" He was too fired up to process his emotions healthily, and all the alarms to run were blaring loud and far. Did he feel the same? most definitely. Did he know how to express that in the slightest? Not at all.

But you held your ground. You knew him and how closed up he was, hell, you were nearly on par with his level there, but you had said it nonetheless. "You heard me, and I've got the feeling that you've known it for quite some time now."

He couldn't stop though. "Don't come home tonight. I don't want you there. Hell, you should've gotten bitten, for all I care."

You cursed yourself for getting close to that old grump. You didn't mean to say it, but you meant it, and you thought he felt the same. You left him there, then, not allowing him to see just how his words affected you. It was ridiculous really, how you let him get to you, but you liked the normalcy of Jackson, no matter how bad you were at it. You felt bad for leaving Ellie, but you thought it was best. Joel was right in that manner, she deserved a guardian that could keep themselves alive.

So that afternoon you talked to Tommy about taking your horse for a little joyride that evening, and though he wasn't too happy with your push for it, he obliged. It was past midnight when you came into the building you used to call home. You got your little belongings together, those consisting of a photo of the three of you, some flasks of water, some flasks of a liquid that was not water, some food, some weaponry, a journal, and went downstairs.

You scribbled a little note for Joel and went on your way. You couldn't look back, because if you did, you'd stay. Part of you broke as you imagined Ellie's reaction come the morning, but you continued on.

You didn't know where you were going, but you didn't really care.

After talking with Ellie that afternoon about what happened once the guilt had consumed him, Joel sought you out. You hadn't come home that night, and though in his fury he told you to do exactly that, he didn't expect you to actually do it.

He had checked the spare bedrooms but found only empty spaces. His heart started to drop as his hopes to see you dwindled. It was when he walked to the kitchen table was he met with someone. Ellie sat there, eyes glued to the small piece of paper in her hands, a tear slipping down her face. At the presence of Joel, she whipped her head towards him.

"I thought you were going to fucking talk it out." Her eyes were red, and she spoke with a bite. "Go get your fucking stuff, we're bringing them back." She stood up and went to go gather her stuff he assumed, leaving the paper on the table. He walked over and picked it up, the guilt returning as he read his name in your handwriting.

Joel,

Guess it really all was just one sided. You were the first person in years that I let myself care about, and I guess I'm facing the consequences. Like you said, you can't worry if I don't come back if there's no back to go to.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt his heart become erratic.

Ellie,

I'm sorry. I hope you forgive me for leaving, but please don't hate me for it. If I were to stay, it would just be awkward between Joel and I, and eventually you probably wouldn't see much of me anyways. Love you, kid.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, this was a mistake. You'd been with people for too long that you grew to be rusty by yourself, and it was costing you, big time. You had been on foot for who knows how long now, but it was dark and sleep was slowly lulling you to its call, so you didn't hear that someone caught onto your trail and began to follow you. It wasn't until a twig snapped no more than fifteen feet behind you that you caught on, and by then it was too late.

A short fight later, death had found another, and there was a nasty stab wound in your shoulder.

You had thought to bring food and water, but why you forgot a med kit was beyond you. So, here you were, your horse waiting by the creekside, while you tried to find something that would hold enough pressure to prevent you from passing out. That was quickly coming to no avail though you realized, and you cursed at yourself for being so torn by rage from your fight with Joel to prepare properly.

You could see drops of your blood reflect in the morning dew that coated the grass. This wouldn't be lethal if you found a way to patch it up, but you were losing hope by the second.

Being agitated enough to find a solution, you decided to press on the wound with your hand, causing your sight to briefly black out in pain. A groan surpassed you, and you begrudgingly dragged yourself to your horse, doing your best to keep the reins in place via a bigger rock, and slumped down against it. If you could rest for just a few minutes and regain your breath, then you could focus better on what was around you that could help. Just a few minutes, you promised yourself, and the darkness overcame your shutting eyes.

It was the sound of another horse that jostled you from your unconsciousness. Looking around, it took you a half a moment to recognize where you were, a part of you aching for the comfort of your shared bed. But that's when everything came flooding back.

Joel. The fight. The note. The stabbing.

You looked skyward and groaned when you saw the paint of warm colour canvasing the blue. With a curse and a deep breath, you pushed yourself up, barely making it to a standing position before the pain overcame you again. You risked a look to your clavicle, and to your dismay, it was looking a whole (no pun intended) lot worse. You figured that you should've known that sleeping it off wouldn't heal a literal stab wound, but what the hell, it was worth a shot. The blood loss caught up to you making you lightheaded, and as you stumbled to your horse, you thought you were hallucinating, because you could swear that you heard Joel's voice.

The version of him that your mind had cruelly made up was coming closer, and jesus christ you were hallucinating Ellie's voice now too. The trees around you started to spin, and when you saw them turn towards the crest of the hill you looked up from, you actually laughed.

You were about to possibly die, and your mind had to punish you for it.

Calling up to the false images, you got their attention with slurred speech. "Shit, you can't even let me go in peace, can you?" Another sour laugh followed your accusation, and the hallucinations had their own conversation before rushing down to you.

Getting off Callus, Ellie slapped Joel's chest at the sight of your shoulder. "Holy fucking shit, guess we know what the blood trail led to." She moved to you after that with Joel not too far behind, but you put all the remaining strength into stepping back from them.

"I know you're both not real, but I don't know why you're still here." This must have been the precursor to death's entrance because that could be the only rationale for this. "You clearly got your way, Joel, now go away so I can please die with some closure."

It was a shame that this is how you went really, with a wound from a dirty blade, but alas. Fake-Joel crossed the distance between the three of you, grabbing onto your good side with eyes wide, examining the injury. "When did this happen?" His eyes sought yours, and you rolled yours in response. "Ellie! Get the bandages from my pack!"

You gave a poor attempt at backing away. "Can't you just leave me be? You told me to go and made it quite clear how you felt about me." You were slipping, and could feel the darkness whispering your name.

"I'm real, this is real honey."

The little amount of push in you snapped, because you scowled in response. "Don't call me honey." You glanced at his hands, noticing that they were moving to the wound. "Plus, if you were real, I wouldn't want to speak to you. So what, I said that I loved--" A gasp caught the end of your sentence, the pain clearing your sight as he started to put pressure on your shoulder. "--love you, but you knew it anyway. We were a family, like you said, and I let my guard down for you--" You had used more energy than you thought on that last sentence, with nothing more than a whisper allowing itself to get through for any other words you had.

Ellie had given Joel gauze by then, and he started packing the wound as best he could. "El, get the horses together, we're takin' them back." He spoke your name then, and you wanted to cry out to the universe for making you think this up. "Bet that felt real, yeah? Listen, I know I said some things earlier, but I really didn't mean them. I'm not that good with bein' vulnerable yet, and I'm still learnin', but I shouldn't have acted that way." Your name spilled from his lips again, and why was he saying all of this now? He continued to talk, but you didn't hear anymore, your eyes unfocusing and starting to shut, the darkness finally coming to claim you.

It had been nearly a full day that you were out, and even though Joel knew that it was partially due to whatever the doc had given you, he was damn near terrified. All of the day's events seemed like a blur, and by the time he was given the okay to stay in the room with you, he had had his fair share of tears. Ellie sat next to him in the chairs he brought up from the dining room, the temporary cot in his room that held you looking extremely out of place.

He had apologized to you more times than he could count while you were out, but the guilt that still racked him rang strong. He had failed, again, this time because he was too bull-headed to talk it out.

Ellie's nudges brought him out of his train of thought, her voice saying your name as your eyes opened. A string of cusses flowed from you as you came to, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Once he had offered you some water, he saw your features twist into skepticism.

"If I'm dead, this is not what I was expecting."

Of course you'd say something like that, trying to diffuse any awkwardness of the situation. Joel played off of it, because he'd prefer this to anger any day. "Yeah, we're actually angels."

That got a snort out of Ellie, and a weak smile from you, one of his own following not soon after.

A few seconds passed in the welcomed silence of each other's presence, but all too soon things became real again.

"I don't know how much you remember from out there, but you gave us a real scare." His hand gingerly reached for your arm, silently asking for permission to hold it, sighing a breath of relief when you nodded. You weren't one for physical touch, especially after an argument, so this felt like a hopeful sign "I really am sorry about what I said to you. I shouldn't have, and I didn't mean a lick of it. I care about you more than I have for nearly anyone else, and I--" The words caught in his throat, and your eyes followed his as they searched the room for an answer.

"Joel," you murmured, eyes on him. "Shit happened, we can talk about it all later, yeah? You don't have to give any confessions now." You kept trying to break the tension there, and he could assume it was due to Ellie being there.

He pushed through though, because Joel Miller was a stubborn man, and damn it if he hadn't been working up the courage to say it since you all re-entered Jackson's gates. "No, no, I want to say it, and I mean it."

"I love you too."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller apologist #joel miller angst #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #tlou hbo spoilers #pedro pascal

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punkrock-writer · 3 years

Text

Space Cowboy- part 2

Trying Not to Get Shot

Warnings- Swearing, Canon Typical Violence. Din pretends to be mean.

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

A/N- Hi! They finally meet in this chapter. Let me know what y'all think, I'm working on the 3rd chapter now and it will most likely be posted on AO3 first. Thanks for reading!

Prologue Part 1 AO3 Wattpad

"Shit... fuck... fucking shit balls"

Sedona couldn't stop the string of curses that passed through her as she shifted her hands to fists on the metal floor in front of her. She tried to lean forward, taking some of the weight off her knees. Her eyes flew open. Everything that just happened suddenly rushing to her. Taking deep breaths she tries to get her bearings.

She was somewhere much, much colder than Florida. There's was a slight hum in the air, she moved her head up wards. The sight nearly put her into shock.

This place was strangely familiar, it was all metal, with many doors and compartments. Boxes stacked against rounded walls, netting and other things her mind couldn't comprehend quite yet hung from the walls. Warm fluorescent lights lit up the space that she knew far too well.

This was the fucking Razor Crest.

Her mouth hung open as she swiveled her head to look behind her, wet hair hung limply in her face. There was another terrifying sight. The carbonite freezer, she took a large shuddering breath. Shifting her weight further forward, she prepared to move to sit on her ass when-

"Don't move."

That voice. Sedona knew that voice very well, it sent a shiver down her spine.

In that moment she knew, she was fucked.

"Who are you" "Please don't shoot me" They spoke at the same time, her words stumbled out broken in a desperate plea. His were strong and commanding.

"Turn around, slowly." The modulated voice was rough. She never thought it would ever breach her real ears, only used to hearing it through television speakers. She pressed her weight into her hands, swiveling slowly to meet the beskar man himself.

And he was so so much taller than her T.V made him appear. The metal gleamed in the artificial light, broad and threatening. With a blaster trained directly onto her head. She slowly shifted her weight back onto her legs, trying not to wince as the pain gripped her thighs again. Raising her arms above her head she finally looked into the visor, of the fucking Mandalorian.

It really did not help her situation that she knew exactly who was under the helmet.

"Who are you, how did you get on my ship." If she wasn't already hyperventilating out of fear she most likely would've turned into a puddle on the floor at the sound of the rough growl. But her fear instinct was beating down any kind of arousal with a broom stick, matching her pounding heart.

"I- I don't know, I'm not from here... I'm from Earth" she was a stuttering mess, her eyes darted around, she couldn't meet the T shaped visor, "please don't kill me, I don't know how I got here."

There was silence. Her hands shook above her head. The chill running down her spine intensified under his hard stare. She could tell he was observing her closely, sizing her up, making sure she wasn't a threat. Then it hit her. She knew this timeline well, she had re watched both seasons on Disney + multiple times, shamefully.

For the plot of course.

She needed to figure out exactly where they were in the series right now. Her heart raced faster, eyes roamed his armor, trying to guess what had just happened based on the wear and tear. It was the pure silver Beskar, so she knew he had turned in the child, but she wasn't sure if he'd gotten him back yet. Before she could ask, the blaster was suddenly much closer to her head.

"Are you here for the Child." She couldn't stop the breath of relief that whooshed out of her lungs. Thank GOD he has the child. But she still wasn't out of the woods yet, she had to somehow convince the most skeptical single father in the galaxy that he didn't have to kill her.

"No, no, I would protect the child with my life." The way he stiffened made her realize she probably didn't say the right thing. "Wait, please I j-just have to explain, I don't know how I got here but I'm from an alternate universe."

"You have 5 minutes." She understood of course, but having 5 minutes to argue her right to live was going to be difficult.

"I- I was in my hotel and now I'm here," she gulped scrambling for the right words, "I'm from Earth. Where I come from this galaxy is... a f-fictional universe, I-I have information I can give you. I know what's going to happen."

She quickly decided convincing him she could be useful was going to be her best bet. Making deals and trades seemed to be the way of life in the galaxy. She could sense his confusion, the way his shoulders dropped slightly; and if she hadn't been staring directly at the gun, she would've missed how he removed his finger from the trigger. Taking this as a positive she continued.

"I know, about the child, and the the mudhorn, and-and about Navarro. But I'm not a spy or hunter or anything, you-you're a character, and I know your story well." Her she licked her lips and swallowed. "I know your name, Di-"

"Don't!" The blaster was right between her eyes now as he shouted at her. She jumped, raising her arms straighter in the air.

"OKAY! Okay, you can cuff me, please don't freeze me in carbonite. I promise I can help you." She tried to swallow back the lump in her throat and blink away tears that burned her eyes. Rambling was what she resorted to as she lowered her hands in front of her, presenting them for space cuffs.

The Mandalorian sighed, though it sounded more like a growl. He cautiously stepped toward her, lowering his blaster and exchanging it for the cuffs that hung from his belt. They were heavy, and dragged her arms down to her lap. She looked up again to meet the visor. Aiming for where his eyes might be, she put on her best pleading face.

"You can search my bags, I don't have any weapons, and it's all from a different world" he now had the stance of an extremely grumpy dad. He stood wide, having had to step over her bags to put the cuffs on, his hands planted on his hips. With a huff he bent down to pick up her purse that was directly under him. He rifled through it, instantly pulling out 2 things she definitely forgot about.

In his gloved hands he held out her Swiss Army knife, and her pink taser. The way his helmet tilted was accusatory, one hand now holding her purse to his hip.

"Okay...those are weapons, but they're for self defense against earth men. I swear I forgot about them." She put her palms up, avoiding his gaze once again. All she heard was another sigh. She would've smiled if it weren't a life or death situation. She hated that she felt like she knew him, that she felt like she knew what he was thinking.

You don't know him at all you idiot.

"I have earth money, in the brown wallet, it'll show you I'm not from here" she was scrambling for anything that could be considered proof. His hand that held the taser and knife dug pack into the purse. Fishing out the old brown wallet. Dropping her purse to the ground he unzipped it, and observed the inside for a beat longer than she would've liked. He looked back to her, then flipped her wallet over. Her mouth fell open in shock, as an avalanche of bulky coins and rectangles fell out of the folds and into his out stretched hand.

Somehow, her genuine American dollars had turned into mysterious space money. Holding up a finger and trying to looking convincing, she spoke again,"Okay. I don't know how those got there, but you can keep them."

He let out another sigh, the hand holding the 'credits' fell to his belt, shoving them into one of the pouches. He stood straighter, she saw his chest rise to speak, but he never got that far. An erratic beeping sounded from the cockpit, and when she looked up to the ladder she could see the interior flashing red.

"Don't even think about moving" came his rough voice, pointing his blaster at her for emphasis, before turning quickly and climbing the ladder to the cockpit. She swore, just at the very edge before his broad frame crowded the entrance, she could see just a peek of a tiny green head, with some big ass ears.

She let out a soft sigh of her own, and moved to rest her head against the metal crate at her back. Searching her shell-shocked brain for any idea of what was going to happen next. She didn't know if this was before, or after Sorgan. Straining her ears to hear some kind of dialogue, she was surprised when the ship started to rock. Her cuffed hands flew out in front of her, trying to brace herself on the floor.

Something was whizzing past the ship, and it was just barely dodging them. Her heart sank, of course, the other bounty hunter.

"Hand over the child Mando" the voice was quiet, but she recognized it. It was all she could catch before the ship was shot, and she was sent skidding to the side. Finally her busted knees had some relief, but her shoulder that collided with the wall didn't fare well.

Another shot, and she was jolted forward, her hands unable to catch her, she jerked her face to the side at the last second. Unfortunately for Sedona, she was not able to catch Mando's warning. Suddenly she was airborne, and falling fast, as the ship did a tight barrel roll.

"FUCK SHIT" the shout tore threw her throat, she curled into a ball quickly. Her arms flew up to cradle her head, just in time to slam back down to the floor. The wind was knocked out of her chest, her shoulder and hip smacked painfully on the metal. If she wasn't bruised already, she was definitely now. Gasping for breath she tried to adjust herself into a more steady position. Fingers weakly grasped at the corner of a crate for some kind of stability. But the hold was loose and awkward, not really getting anything out of the position her hands were in.

"I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold" her throat filled with cotton at the line. Suddenly she remembered. She curled into herself, bending her arms to rest her hands behind her neck and pulling her knees to her chest. Bracing for impact.

But it was much more than her body could take.

The Razor Crest slammed to a stop. And she was rolling forward. It felt like she was flying again. With eyes open she could see her self careening straight for the metal ladder that lead to the cockpit. And right before her head slammed into the metal base she heard.

"That's my line"

And everything went black.

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outerbankslut · 4 years

Text

Sorry... Pope Heyward

Summary • After a fight between the Kooks and the Pogues you go to your friends to apologise but Pope’s not having it.

Warnings • Swearing? Maybe but I can’t remember and I cba to go back through. Mentions of violence (in the fight). If there’s anything else let me know :) JJ smoking as usual.

Word Count • 1.7k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

THE NOISES OF the cars engine knocked you out of your daze as you drove down the paved, sweltering streets of outer banks. The houses you passed a second ago were filled with perfectly trimmed bushes, the building decked in marble and stone with backyards for miles and a pool to finish it off. Whereas the houses you passed now were smaller and wooden, looking fragile almost. Lots of the yards were messier and lazier but they didn't have personal gardeners or the time nor money to do it themselves generally. It made your heart clench as you thought about how just a mile back you were living luxuriously while people over here slaved away to earn everything they owned. They weren't handed it like you were.

You were on your way to the cut to see your friends. But not for a casual hangout. You needed to see if they were okay. After the events of the night before you couldn't be sure what happened after you left.

Rafe has been involved in a fight between all the Pogues including you. No surprise there. He’d been the instigator of it all. It had broken out just you were all planning to leave and then the Cameron boy and the rest of his country club friends came over and joined in somehow finding fun in hitting and punching people due to the entitlement blinding their eyes from the truth that they were the same. Well maybe not personality wise in any way at all. But you were all human beings and yet you were pitted against each other from the day you were born. Only some succumbed to the amounting pressure of their kook or pogue parents to stay away from the other side others realised how petty and stupid it was.

It was always like a scene from west side story when the two groups were mixed and it never ended well. It usually left you to pick up the pieces of their messes. Or any mess of your brothers really. It had always been you. You taking responsibility for anything he did. Whilst he would go disappear and sniff a few lines before making his triumphant return you would be mending what he broke or taking the blame. Being younger than him didn't help with him manipulating you as a child. Rafe broke a vase and suddenly you broke the vase. Rafe stole money from dad since he blew his allowance on coke and alcohol and instead you stole the money. It had always been that way and by now you were used to being left in the wake of your brothers tyranny.

You always felt responsible no matter what happened. The events of last night where stuck in your mind like super glue and the guilt was filling up your lungs. It wasn't your fault. But at the same time it was. You didn't stop your brother, you let your friends get hurt by him. And they must hate you. Probably wish you'd never been let into their group.

The tires of your car screeched to a halt beside the Twinkie which occupied the space outside of the chateau. It was eerily quiet until you stepped out onto the grassy and muddy ground and heard muffled laughter from inside the wooden walls of the small fish shack. You could smell the after effects of a joint wafting through the air. No doubt it was JJ.

Once you entered the chateau the small creak of the screen door was enough to gain the attention of all the Pogues who glanced up at your presence. Only then did you see what was leftover from the fight last night. Kie looked at you with a small smile but you could see the light grazing on her cheeks and her hands that held the wooden neck of a ukulele. But yet she still seemed happy to see you. And then JJ who sent you a lazy smile as he inhaled more of the joint between his bruised knuckled fingers and the smoke covered his purple and yellow and green painted face but only for a second. Then John B who held a beer in his hands but you could see the blood surrounding his split lip and small cut above his black eye.

None noticed your small frown or look of quilt swarming you except from Pope who stared intensely and lingered on the downturning of your lips as you turned and caught his gaze. You could see the small cut beneath his chin and no doubt just like the John B and JJ he accumulated bruises on his stomach or arms. But he was wearing his shirt buttoned up whereas JJ laid shirtless and John B stood with his shirt open.

It hurt you the most seeing Pope. The multiple bruises and cuts adorning his normally smooth and unharmed skin. They were because of you. When Pope moved in front of you stopping you from receiving the backhand Rafe sent your way as you berated him to stop. He was the reason you weren't hurt. And you were the reason he was hurt.

Pope looked at you oddly as you just stood there letting out a sigh.

"Y/N?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in question. When you didn't answer again he stood up and walked over to you where you stood with your hands threaded together and rubbing in anticipation. "What's wrong?"

"I-I wanted to apologise to you last night."

The rest of the Pogues had turned their attention to you, JJ even stopped smoking for a second to listen. Your eyes were down trained on the wooden flooring as you spoke. Popes furrowed brows deepened as he looked at you slightly bewildered that you thought you needed to apologise.

"I'm sorry he hurt you guys. It was all my fault and I should have stopped him but I didn't." You let out a dry chuckle. "All of you got hurt and yet I'm perfectly fine." You shook you head and sighed. "But I'm really sorry."

Despite the nice welcoming from your friends you still had the deep rooted fear they would hate you after last night but the looks on their faces held sadness or confusion rather than anger or disdain.

Pope had seen you do this before with the group. Whether it be a Pogue and Kook fight or just a small thing when he'd been around your house, like accepting responsibility when Rafe forgot to pick Wheezie up from her ballet class or the time when you'd apologised profusely for Rafes mistreatment of JJ at his job at the country club. But most of those times he'd believed it to be a small courtesy of just being related to the problem or saying it like when you say you're sorry for someone's loss but it wasn’t like that with you. At least not this time.

You were apprehensive to look up to meet his but when you did you saw the boy let out a small scoff and you were ready for him to yell at you to leave and never come back.

"God! Stop apologising for other people! You're not the shitty one!" The Heyward boy exclaimed blowing a fuse which surprised everyone when Pope was normally the calm and collected one. Not all the time. But most.

And he wasn’t angry towards you but toward Rafe and even the smallest notion that what he did laid on your shoulders. You simply blinked in his direction not sure what to say at his outburst.

"Pope—" You started saying before you were cut off by the boy throwing his hands in the air.

"No I can't take it any longer. I can't watch you blame yourself and apologise for the punches Rafe throws or the shitty things he does. He's a bad person and you are not him. I don't give a damn if he's your brother, okay? Y/N you've never done anything wrong in your life and yet you keep apologising for everything he does. It's not your fault. I'll tell you a million—scratch that a billion times if I have to."

And once again you blinked but this time blinking away the glossy liquid in your eyes hoping to clear your vision. It was a different feeling having someone tell you it wasn't your fault for once. Popes eyes stared passionately towards you as you held his stare. You felt comforted just the the deep ebony colours of his eyes that focused on you.

"I still left you guys though after. I didn't stay and help." You told them and Kiara stood quickly, abandoning the instrument on the couch and placing a hand on your arm. You felt yourself sniffling. Pope moved his hand as well but lightly placed it in your own moving his fingers over your palm in circles soothingly. Letting you know he was there. Pope and you had definitely always been the closest in the group. If you ever needed someone Pope was always there. Whether it was someone to cry on or rant to, he was always there. And he definitely cared a lot about you as you did him.

"Hey, Y/N. You still tried to help us. That’s what counts. And we get it was overwhelming. We don't have to deal with psycho brothers. No offence." Kie spoke softly and you chuckled lightly at her comment through small tears that you were quick to wipe away.

"Yeah, Rafe is his own person and technically an adult he can take responsibility for his own shit." JJ spoke as he stood from his space on the couch joined by John B behind him.

"I still don't understand how the two of you are even related."

You shrugged a small smile growing on your lips that Pope noticed. "Me and Sarah both wonder that. A lot."

They all let out small laughs before Pope pulled you in for a hug and you nestled your head into his shoulder at his warm and enticing hold. He smelt of musk with small hints of aftershave and salt water. But most of all he smelt of home. Somewhere that would always be inviting and your one true solace from the world.

Note • Got my writing mojo back, kinda. And I used a prompt for this which helped a lot as well maybe too much. But uh so funny story I said it could make a cute blurb and one thing leads to another and I’ve written 1.7k words oopsies. I rambled too much and it’s trash and it’s also 2am so forgive me. But I need help I write too much unnecessary details in my fics and it makes it so long and probably boring. Anyway it’s✨trash✨but I hope maybe you enjoyed.

Join My Tag List Here • @starlightstarkey @rafecameron @starksweasleymain @jjsredhat @scandalousfemale @sguymon21 @bricksatanakinswindow @futuretaxcheat @wannabeslut @ad-infinitums @outrebanx @pit-zuh @pankowrudeth @jiaraendgame @outerbanksbro @copper-boom @alternativehp @brie-gr3y

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years

Text

Summary: Javi hasn't called...again, Isa tries to distract herself making a new friend, but she doesn't know that her intentions are far from innocent and are tied to Javi crossing paths again with someone from his past.

Warning: cursing, mention of violence, threats, anxiety, kidnapping. Very hateful characters from the show 👀

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN POSTED ALMOST A MONTH AGO. I will try to finish this before this month ends. I think I could wrap this in one chapter more and an epilogue probably.

Just a small warning. This is a work of fiction and the intention is merely to develop a little bit more of a character I adore, Javi Peña. There's mention of the drug cartel, the violence they inflected in Latinoamérica (and as a Latina it hurts me very deeply, believe me) and the political involvement of different governments and agencies but this is not a political statement or trying to do other thing than entertain.

Chapter VII: Smart Choices

Isabel had never been a very popular girl, always the shy one in high school and she made a very small group of friends in college. But as everything in her life, there was a before and after since her life changed and she had Elvira.

She could not go to the club with her friends, their conversations about their new graduate’s struggles hurt her since she had to drop out, their heartbreaks and adventures had nothing to do with her life surrounded by diapers, feeding bottles and sleepless nights and so one day the phone stopped ringing, their friendship was limited to birthday parties and Christmas postcards while she became a mum and a wife. And thus making her world a very small universe with her child at the center and Javi and her turning around her.

So when that lady at the supermarket, Judy, called her she didn’t think anything weird out of it. Instead she was happy, excited to have another struggling mum that needed some comforting from somebody that understands her as much as she did.

“I’m sorry I took the liberty to ask for your phone number, I have a friend that goes to your mum’s salon and I ask her for it” she had said the first time she called.

Judy is a funny and very quick and intelligent woman. When they got their first coffee together, Isa barely asks any question, Judy fills the conversations so Isabel never has the chance to ask when she is meeting her kid or who gave her her phone number since she knows every client of her mother’s salon by heart and nobody mentioned her ever. But Judy keeps the conversation flowing, sharing her tragic story about leaving Colombia out of a very tough situation with a guy and creating a new life for her and her kid in the USA.

“It must have been so tough” Isa pounders

“Colombia back then was a bloodbath, you had to navigate the streets in survival mode, always looking behind your back and praying to come back home safe” Judy explains

“My husband worked in Colombia for a few years”

“Oh really? When?”

“80’s early 90’s"

“Well, he must have known. So sad! it is a very beautiful country...”Judy’s gaze is fixed far away as if she’s remembering something

“I guess it’s difficult to talk about it, my husband never shares much”

“Mm” she hums, she opens a golden lighter and gets the flame close to the cigarette on her red lips “What did he do there?”

“He worked at the Embassy” she’s not lying but she prefers not to specify, and now that’s past, the details are not really important

“Oh! and that’s what he’s doing in Mexico now?” she asks exhaling a white cloud of smoke making a perfect o with her lips

“Not exactly”

“He must be careful; I heard things are following the same path we suffered back in Colombia”

“Yes...he’s...smart, I’m sure he will be fine” Isa answers more to convince herself than her new friend

“I saw in the news the other day how a few civilians died during a clash between two fronting cartels and then the police. Very, very horrible images" she smacks her lips

"I haven't watched the news…" the knot in Isa's stomach grows tighter, Javi haven't called back even if he promised he would

"They kill anyone that is on their way, civilians, gringos too, DEA agents…" the Colombian woman casually brings the coffee cup to her lips when Isa frowns at her

"What did you say?" She asks

"They kill civilians?" Judy smiles uncomfortably the corner of her lips stretching up

"No, the last part"

"Gringos...DEA agents" she repeats

"Why did you say that?" The knot gets tighter restringing her throat and her question is just a whisper

"I… assume Javier must be…"

"I haven't told you what he does"

Judy gasps and bats her long black lashes a few times before changing her face to a complete cold expression, her glossy lips now a tight red line

"Look, Isabel, I think you are a very smart woman…" she starts

"I'm leaving"

Isabel pushes her chair back to go but the other woman's hand holds her to the table, her perfect manicure claws making her stay

"Sit, don't do anything stupid" Judy spats, the brief confrontation has alerted the waiters and they look at them intently until Judy gives them a very warm apologetic smile

"Who are you? What do you want?" Isabel tries to hold herself but her instincts is crying for her tu run, to get her baby back and look for Javier

But Javi could be anywhere

"You know your husband and I met, many years ago" she continues smoking "we worked closely in the hunt of Escobar" she smirks "I admit I was surprised to find him married and with a kid. He used to be involved with a very different type of woman"

"What do you want from Javi? If you hurt him I swear…" Isa mutters

"You must have been really special. A magical pussy" she laughs "or are you that dumb and naive that he lied to you and believed it" she crosses her arms over her chest, looking with a smug face from the white cloud of smoke "do you know what he did in Colombia? Do you know what he's capable of?"

"Where is he? If you touch him I swear to God I kill you" Isa tries to contain the tears, to seem strong but fails which makes Judy smile wider

"Oh! So you are an idiot little girl. Better keep up, cielo, if you want your husband alive"

México

A constant, something that keeps on proving itself to be right: shit does follow him. He tries the breathing techniques that the doctor showed him but the bag on his head stinks like rotten meat and the heat inside the van is unbearable. He finds a little solace feeling Steve's tigh pressed against his. Both of them rocking back and forth with each bump on the road

"Connie is going to kill me" his friend says

" If they don't kill us first"

"Callense cabrones" one shouts and Javi hears the muttering insult Steve pronounces before receiving one hit himself

He feels the vomit running up his throat, the smell, the heat and the fear have mixed themselves on his stomach and he can no longer calm himself down. He’s about to die, he knows it. About time, my friend, I elude death for so long in Colombia, so many close calls and now I’m about to die in some unknown part of Mexico because of a fucking middle age crisis I couldn’t handle.

He tries so hard to close his lips and swallow, breath, Peña, breath. The only cold thing in this van is the thin silver chain and medallion he wears around his neck.

This would be a marvellous moment to do some magic, old man Javi says to himself and that old saint around his neck. What did Isa call the old man engraved in it? Saint Jude. Okay, Jude, show yourself, please. This is actually a lost cause, it’s your field of expertise, c’mon

“Andando” the sicario pushes him out of the van before he can even process they have stopped the vehicle. The man grabs him by the arm harshly and guides him forward, the sun pierces the black bag over his head but he can’t only perceive the light and the sound of the gravel under his boots.

Suddenly the light changes to a white light and he feels the temperature lowering: a house with air conditioner and there’s a soft murmur of water but otherwise the house is silent. Javi memorizes those tiny details, it’s the only thing that could eventually help him if they’re held hostage and not killed right away.

The sicario pushes him and for a few milliseconds Javier thinks he’s about to fall hard to the ground but ends up on a chair. Then they pull both his arms to the back without any care and handcuffs him there.

Javi jumps from his seat when he hears the loud thump of the door closing, still in the dark and without any sign of company, he calls:

“Steve…”

Nothing

“Your friend is in the other room”

He could recognize that fucking voice anywhere, is engravated in his brain, in that part of his head that is capable of the worst, that tiny espace where he keeps every hateful and the worst people he has met, Bill Stechner being the number one on that list.

“I was so happy thinking you were dead and crawling back to hell” Javi sighs before he’s hit by the clarity in the room. He blinks fast until his eyes are adjusted to it again. It’s a nice room, wide and scattered by a few pieces of furniture covered by white sheets, the dust in the air makes evident it has been closed for a long time.

“So was I thinking you were rotting old in your father’s little ranch but here we are”

His beard is greyer and the already receding hairline is back a few inches, but he looks exactly the same, tha smug stupid face is looking at him from above. That smirk of “I’m always five steps ahead from you” the same he had when he made him leave the Embassy before catching Escobar and the same he had when he tried to take down Cali. But now he’s here in Mexico, what the fuck is he doing here?

“And, do tell, please, why the fuck do are path cross again?” Javier spats

“Oh! I didn’t want to cross paths with you. I must admit I found it funny when I saw who was managing the account for our textile export, but you, being the noisy stupid man that you are “ Stechner approaches him, his smirk freezes in a tight line “had to call your friends. And you see, you’re mending on my business again”

“So you switched from the CIA to the Narcos?”

“Javier, javier…” he sighs “You are always focusing in the wrong things and not in the bigger picture”

“The bigger picture being…” Javier rolls his eyes at him

“You wouldn’t understand, I tried a few times in Colombia and you ended up fucking it all up” he shakes his head

“So what do you want from me now?”

“Well now that you are here fucking everything up again I’d prefer if the repercussions go to the right direction”

“Which is it not yours, I guess, or whomever you’re working for”

“Yeah” he laughs and points at him “you’re smart when you want”

“And wouldn’t it be better to kill us right away?”

“Oh, you see, my associetes want to do it” Stechner nods “The really don’t give a fuck. But I told them that you could be of service”

“You’re really delusional if you think…”

Stechner interrupts him “And if you weren’t willing to cooperate we could always resort to the good old ways” the man walks to a nearby table, over the white sheet there’s a manila folder. Bill opens it slowly, that stupid smirk back at again on his face, relishing on the desperation and fear in Javi’s eyes.

Please, not Isa, please not my child

“Your wife made a new friend, it’s a small world after all, isn’t it?” Stechner shows him a picture, he recognises the cafe, Isa is seated talking to another woman he hasn’t seen in years.

“Judy is very nice when she wants” he takes out another picture, this time Isa is on the backyard playing with Elvi “You have a very beautiful family”

“If you touch them, motherfucker” Javi tries to get out of the chair, he doesn’t even care if the metal from the cuff cuts his wrists. He just want to do what he has wanted to do since he started working in Colombia and crossed paths with the CIA

“They won’t, it is entirely upon you that this is just a simple anecdote. I promised I’ll try to control them...if you do what you have to do” Stechner shrugs and throws the pictures to the floor where they rest in front of Javi’s feet

“What do you want?” he murmurs, his gaze is fixed on those images trying to see something, when were they taken? how does he know if they already hurt them?

Please, please he begs and his vision is starting to blurry

“Well, my associates will appreciate it if the DEA will center its efforts on our common enemy. You see it right? it’s the same story all over again; the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“I’m not DEA anymore”

“Are you? I mean you’re here with your dear Steve in an ongoing investigation that mainly relies on your testimony so…”

Stechner roams around Javier’s chair “It’s not like you haven’t done it before, Javi, think about it as if you are involving yourself with the lesser evil, there will be a time to capture my associates, but not now”

“Just go back home and when the time comes you can assure the DEA that those terrible horrible people that are getting that poison in our beautiful country are involved with our common enemy. What is the difference between one Cartel and the other? It just a matter of time they both get caught” he continues

“Why are you involved in this?”

“We’ve done this many times, Peña, let it go. It’s better this way or do you want to end up like Kiki? or better yet, your beautiful wife or your kid?” Bill points to the pictures of the Peña’s family “think about it”

And he thinks about it, the hate and the fear burning in his chest. So many years protecting himself in covers of solitude, brief encounters to relieve the stress and alcohol, protecting his heart from this fear and pain of getting his family killed for his job.

You did this to them, you looked for it. Now what?

Isa (Laredo)

She drives fast, fast as she has never driven before. She has always been a very responsible person and even more when she became a mother. Elvira is seated on the back, her little hands holding the seat hard and she has called her a few times, her voice shaky and scared.

“Mami, where are we going?”

“To Grandpa’s, honey”

“You’re too fast”

“I know, but we need to get there now”

The screeching sound of the tires stopping abruptly on the road has alerted Chucho who now waits with the porch lights on when they get out of the car.

“Mija, what’s wrong?” he screams

“I think Javi is in the danger”

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x ofc #Javier Peña fanfic #Narcos #Narcos Fanfic #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Pena #Javier Pena fanfic #Javi Peña #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fic

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