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youraverageaemondsimp · 7 months

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“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞

MDNI

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread

WC: 7.1k (yeah...)

« part two // 🎄 special »

Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.

You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.

You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.

But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.

And that's when you saw it.

“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?

You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.

“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.

“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.

“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.

You were fucking shaking.

It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.

Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.

You just turned 21, recently.

‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.

He wasn't that old himself, barely 30

He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.

He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.

Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.

She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.

But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.

He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.

His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.

But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.

Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.

When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.

You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.

“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.

Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.

“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.

He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.

“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.

He was fucking lying.

But you didn't know that.

The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.

“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.

“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.

And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.

Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.

And with a handshake, he accepted you.

You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.

It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.

It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.

You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.

“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.

He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.

Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question

“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly

“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.

“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.

Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.

“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.

It was fucking big.

Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.

You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.

He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.

“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.

“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.

“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.

Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.

And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.

You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.

You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes

“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.

He was crying in his sleep.

Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.

He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.

“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.

Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.

“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.

You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done

But you were only trying to comfort him.

Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.

“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.

“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.

“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.

“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.

“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.

“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.

“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.

“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.

It was a spam call.

But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.

But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.

The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.

It was so perfect.

Almost as if you were made for that.

Aemond felt his heart flutter.

For the first time in years.

He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.

Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.

You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.

You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.

You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.

“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.

You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.

Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.

You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.

Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.

Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge

And soon it would push him off it.

Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.

“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.

“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.

“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.

“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.

Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.

And Aemond had lost his resolve.

He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.

Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.

“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”

“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.

“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.

The water heater wasn't broken.

He was lying.

And you believed him.

He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.

He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.

He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.

And then you opened it.

His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.

He snapped.

He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.

He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.

You should refuse this.

You should push him away.

But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.

He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.

He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.

One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.

He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.

And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.

He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.

Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.

He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.

He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.

He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.

Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.

Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.

“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.

You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.

“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.

You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.

He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.

He was still hard.

So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.

He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.

“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.

“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.

He clicks his tongue

“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.

He finishes too, inside you again.

You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.

“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.

“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.

“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.

“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.

Silence falls between you two.

A comfortable silence.

He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.

You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.

“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.

“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.

You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.

You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.

He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.

You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.

He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.

You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.

You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.

“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.

“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.

“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.

You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.

“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.

Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.

Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.

There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.

“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs

Oh gods.

Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.

“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.

You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.

He smirks.

Oh fuck.

You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.

“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.

“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.

He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.

His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.

“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.

“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.

You nod and follow him to the front door.

“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.

“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.

He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.

And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.

Oh seven hells.

———

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #reader insert #x reader smut #hotd x reader #x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic

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august126 · 1 month

Text

Scenes from an Italian Restaurant

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college.

You're pretty sure your feelings aren't reciprocated... until one night that changes everything.

Warnings:Age Difference,Joel is 49 and Reader is 24,Oral Sex,Car Sex,semi-public sex (sort of),Flirting,Masturbation, and Dirty Talk

Words:12,334

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared.

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“Y’know, while ‘m happy that you’re livin’ with me again, I’d appreciate it f’ya started tryin’ to find a job that put that fancy degree t’use.” You peer over the top of the book you’d been reading at your dad, who’s taking up a spot at the end of your pool chair. His arms are crossed over his navy work shirt, drenched in sweat from working all day in the roiling heat customary of a Texas summer, and he’s watching you expectantly for an answer.

You set your book on your chest and sigh. It’s not that you aren’t thankful or don’t appreciate your dad allowing you to move back in with him after graduating from college a year ago. You fully understand how fortunate you are not to have to worry about paying rent; you’re also eternally grateful to your dad for hooking you up with a decent-paying job as a secretary at the contracting business his best friend owns. However, you were getting very, very tired of having this conversation.

“And you know that I am lookin’, but it’s silly for me t’apply for an entry-level position at a firm that’s gonna pay me less than what ‘m makin’ now.” Your dad rolls his eyes and grumbles something snippy under his breath, his go-to combo when he doesn’t like that you’re right. You pin him with a pointed stare. “Care to repeat that?”

“Said maybe I oughta tell Joel to dock your pay then,” your dad states, but any lingering irritation in his tone dissipates by the time he’s finished speaking. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and his slight frown turns into a small, teasing smile.

“Somebody say my name?” Your gaze shifts from your dad to the sliding glass door behind him… or, rather, the man who opened it.

Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college. Currently, Joel Miller is the tanned, broad, tall man striding leisurely through your backyard, navigating around your pool, and stopping beside your father.

He slaps a hand on your dad’s shoulder in greeting and shoots you a bright grin as he coos, “Hey, lady.” Although Joel’s addressed you with the pet name for years, it never fails to cause an eruption of butterflies in your belly and a crimson blush to paint your cheeks.

“Hey, Joel,” you respond, trying to appear nonchalant even as you’re reining in your thundering heart and halting the pulse throbbing just south of your belly button. “Dad was jus’ sayin’ how he’s gonna ask ya to give me a pay cut.” Joel turns to your father, shaking his head.

“And risk losin’ my best employee? No can do, bud.” Even if he’s only joking, you preen at Joel’s praise. You cock an eyebrow at your dad, waiting for some sort of a comeback, but he only glares at you both before huffing.

“I don’t like when the two of ya gang up on me.” You giggle, and Joel shoots you a lazy wink and a warm, victorious smile. “Anyway,” your dad turns his attention back to Joel, “you said reservation’s at 6:45?”

“Uh-huh, so we oughta get our asses movin’,” Joel asserts, and your dad starts heading swiftly back toward your house. Joel’s eyes shift to you, still lounging on your purple pool chair, and he nudges your foot with the toe of his boot. “That means you too, lady.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Sarah’s birthday,” Joel answers incredulously, and a lightbulb goes off in your head; that’s why you felt like you were forgettin’ something all day. “Please tell me ya didn’t forget my daughter’s birthday. Your friend’s birthday,” Joel teases, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“ Of course I didn’t forget,” you lie, narrowing your eyes. Joel sees right through it.

“I bet. Now go get changed ‘fore ya make us late … unless you plan on wearin’ that to dinner.” The blush you just managed to school comes back in full force as he unabashedly rakes his eyes over your body, and only now do you realize how little the tiny black bikini you’re wearing covers.

Joel’s pretty brown eyes, usually so teeming with emotion, are utterly unreadable as you stand from your chair and begin heading inside. As you pass him, you mumble, “Don’t see why you’re complainin’.”

“Didn’t think I was.” You stumble a bit, glancing over your shoulder to find Joel’s gaze slowly sweeping down your body. When his stare lands on your ass, practically bare save for the minuscule cover your bikini bottom provides, his attention snaps back to your face, an impish grin on his lips that makes your skin flush.

“Fuck off, old man,” you reply cooly, flipping him off as you saunter inside; you can still feel Joel’s gaze on you as you ascend the stairs, and if that makes you sway your hips more than usual… well, who the fuck cares?

Once you’ve entered your bedroom and stripped off your bathing suit to assemble an outfit for dinner, your mind drifts into a space you’ve grown all too familiar with over the last five years.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand how wrong your crush on Joel Miller was. Ignoring the fact that he’s been your dad’s best friend for years, he’s also over two decades your senior and has a daughter only a few years younger than you. It’s disgusting, really, that you have even the slightest hint of attraction toward the man. And yet…

You really can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re no longer a college student parading around under the guise of adulthood. No, you’re a woman now, a woman with autonomy who is perfectly capable of making her own choices. If one of those choices is fucking her dad’s best friend, well, then so be it.

Even as you tell yourself this for the thousandth time, the sentiment feels weak. Sure, the opportunity to fuck Joel Miller is perfectly viable, in theory. However, so many things would have to go right for a thing like that to happen, and you are a notoriously unlucky person; quite frankly, you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve gotten lucky to the degree that you would need to for something like having sex with Joel to happen.

For one, no one would ever be able to find out. Your dad, Sarah, any of your nosey neighbors. Not to mention that the logistical feat of such a thing would be tricky. Where would you guys meet up? Not your house, not his house, and anything public like a bar would be far too risky. No, it would have to be a one-off deal, and you’re not so sure you’d be able to stop at just a single taste of Joel.

And that’s all assumin’ he’d even want me, you think as you comb through your closet looking for a summer dress right for the occasion. Joel Miller had never, never shown a flicker of interest in you. That display by the pool, him ogling your ass in your skimpy bikini? That was just him keeping up the incessant string of banter that passed between the two of you. Sure, he was older than you, but that didn’t matter when it came to the way he treated you, as if you were his friend.

Right, his friend.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. This line of thinking was an absolute rabbit hole, forcing you down, down, down until there was a headache ebbing at your temples and your veins were licking with equal parts frustration and lust.

Three quick knocks come on your door, and your head whips around at the sound, pulling you out of your Joel-induced stupor. “Hey, lady?”

Fuck. You stand in your closet, stunned into inaction like a deer in headlights as you realize the only thing separating you, butt-ass naked, and Joel is the mahogany of your closed bedroom door.

“Just checkin’ to see ‘f you’re ready yet. Sarah jus’ texted, said her and what’s-his-face are waitin’ at the restaurant.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You off-handedly wonder why you haven’t just slipped a dress on over your head on the off chance Joel decides to swing open your door, and you realize with a sick sort of excitement that you wouldn’t entirely mind Joel walking into your room at this very moment.

“Almost,” you call out, forcing your words to come out smooth as the image of Joel entering your room enters your mind unbidden; you imagine how his eyes would take in your naked form, how it’d take three short strides for him to reach you, how he might drop his head and lick one of your already hardened nipples into his warm, waiting mouth. You swallow thickly before calling out, “Just need another second s’all.”

A dull throb begins at the apex of your thighs as you picture the man on the other side of the wall putting his rough, work-worn hands all over your soft, supple skin. You wonder what his calloused touch would feel like against your flesh, if his honeyed skin would grow rosy under the thorough ministrations of your wet tongue, if his eyes would grow dark and a deep groan would drip from his lips as you closed your mouth around his-

“Sweetheart? Y’alright in there?” You think you mumble an airy affirmation as you mindlessly trace your fingers along your collarbone, imagining that they’re longer, thicker, belonging to another individual entirely. Any semblance of rationality escapes you as your other hand creeps down the smooth skin of your belly, and you cup your sex with a groan you’re barely able to muffle. You’re so outside of yourself, caught up in the slow path your fingers are tracing along your body, that you don’t notice the doorknob begin to turn.

Only when your door starts to lurch open do you fall back into your body from where you were floating a few seconds earlier. Your eyes blow wide, a strangled cry of surprise and horror falling from your mouth as you realize the precarious situation you’re about to be thrust into. “WAIT.”

The slow sway of your door opening halts immediately, and you let out a breath, spinning on your heel to face your closet. “I- ‘m jus’ comin’ in t’make sure you’re alright.” You hastily decide on a sage green strapless dress, something you can slip into quickly and inconspicuously, and rip the silk garment from its hanger.

“Yeah, no, ‘m good, Joel. Great, I’m great, jus’… yeah, gimme a sec.” You throw the dress on, its hem falling to your mid-thigh as you grab a pair of strappy sandals from the bottom of your closet and slip one on, hopping into the other as you approach your door.

“Y’sure, baby? Ya sound-” You slip your shoe on and grab the door handle in one movement, opening it fully to give you an unobstructed view of the man you’d just been on the verge of touching yourself to. Wouldn’t be the first time, you think to yourself unhelpfully.

He’s looking down at you, concern and curiosity bubbling in his gaze, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “See? ‘m fine, all good. Jus’ needed a minute.” Joel’s eyes blaze a lackadaisical trail over your body, and you swear you can feel him cataloging each inch of bare skin you have on display. He reaches out, plucking one of the flimsy green spaghetti straps between his thick fingers before letting it go to snap back against your shoulder. You stifle a gasp, and he brushes the hair careening down your chest back over your shoulder.

“This is pretty,” he says, voice low and velvety, and you can feel your pussy beginning to grow wet at his praise. He bends down until his mouth hovers just next to your ear, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him: musky cologne and citrusy body wash and something unidentifiable yet so undoubtedly Joel. “Did ya mean t’be wearin’ it backward?”

You look down at yourself, heat rising to your face when you realize that he’s right: you’ve managed to put your dress on the wrong way. You shove Joel’s shoulder, and he takes a step back, a smug grin painted on his lips that makes you roll your eyes.

“You’re a dick, y’know that?” He chuckles at your dig, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“And you’re makin’ us late to this dinner. Now, can I trust ya to fix your dress yourself, or do ya need me to help?” He delivers it like a joke, and the logical part of your brain reminds you of that the moment your pulse begins to flutter. He’s just teasin’ you like he always does.

However, the dark, hunger-tinged stare Joel is pinning you with doesn’t feel humorous. You swallow thickly, saliva pooling in your mouth and pinning your tongue to the roof. “I-” you stutter, words failing you as he continues dragging his eyes slowly over your flustered form. “You-”

“Spit it out, baby.” Baby. You turn the endearment over in your head a few times, testing the weight of it on your tongue. Finally, the corners of your lips pull up in a cheeky smile and your eyelids grow heavy as you gaze up into Joel’s face.

“You askin’ to undress me, Miller?” And this doesn’t feel like your typical banter. No, this feels weighted, laced with something headier. Something full of innuendo and promises and an unquenchable appetite for… something. And then your dad’s voice is cutting harshly through the fog.

“Hey hon, I’ll be- oh, Joel, didn’t realize ya came up here.”

Joel doesn’t even spare your dad a glance, eyes still on you as he says, “Jus’ wanted to check and see if your slow-ass kid was ready t’go.” Your dad snorts, and you narrow your eyes at Joel before turning the withering look to your father.

“Don’t laugh at that.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but ya are kinda slow.” Joel’s smirk only grows, and you huff incredulously. Your dad, apparently oblivious to the bubble of tension he popped, continues. “Anywho, was jus’ sayin’ that I’m gonna head out to the car ‘cause we need t’get goin’, so quit your dilly dallyin’ and let’s get a move on.” He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You look at the ground as you mutter, “Yes, Dad, ‘m just about ready,” and your reply is met with a loud clap of your father's hands.

“Wonderful!” he exclaims, rubbing his palms together before bringing a heavy hand down on Joel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Joel, you can wait with me in the car. I need t’talk to ya ‘bout some work shit anyway.” Your dad begins to drag Joel down the stairs, but not before Joel can get the last word in between you.

He cranes his head back, catching your glare as he descends the stairs. “Y’heard your daddy, no more dilly dallyin’,” he sing-songs, and you scoff.

“Oh, fuck you, Miller.” “Language, ma’am,” you hear your dad chastise sternly, and you grumble a half-assed apology as you close your bedroom door behind you. It only takes you a minute to flip your dress so that you’re wearing it the correct way and throw on a pair of light pink, lace panties, bounding down the stairs and out the front door when you’re ready. Before you know it, you’re seated in the backseat of Joel’s old pickup truck as it cruises down the highway toward Austin’s metro area.

You watch the residential neighborhoods littered with little kids running through sprinklers and elderly couples sitting in chairs on their front porches morph into the city, full of streets tightly lined with buildings and bar-hoppers entering their first destination of the night. The sun still hangs rather high in the sky, dappling the world in a warm amber glow as Joel pulls up outside a quaint Italian bistro nestled between an ice cream parlor full of bright-eyed children and a sushi restaurant rattling with the heavy bass of the music from within.

“Cute lil’ place,” you say, surveying the old brick exterior of the building and the burgundy awning hanging over the open front door that bears the name of the restaurant, Palermio’s, in loopy, white script. “Sarah’s choice?”

Joel reaches his hand behind your dad’s headrest, using one hand to turn the wheel while he starts to squeeze his truck into the last snug parking spot outside of the bistro. “No, darlin’, I did.” You stare at his side profile as he maneuvers the truck, surprise lacing your features. It’s not until he’s parked the car and meets your eyes in the rearview mirror as he’s straightening out in his seat that you realize he’s bullshitting you.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you throw open your door and slide from the backseat, and he’s following you a second later.

“Y’know, you oughta be nicer t’me. I am your boss,” he says as you round his truck, his arm brushing yours, and you look up at him. “Could fire ya for bein’ disrespectful, ‘f I really wanted to.” You smirk at him and shrug.

“Ya could, but then you’d be losin’ your best employee, right?” His chest bounces as he laughs, and you smile at the pleasant noise before getting distracted by how his relatively new-looking cream-colored t-shirt bearing the album cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors stretches tautly over the slopes of his wide shoulders.

“Damn right, lady,” he agrees, his gaze crawling over your body as he drags his thumb over his mostly pepper, slightly salt mustache that decorates his upper lip. Your skin crawls pleasantly as you feel him examining you, and you’re just about to reach your father, who’s waiting for the two of you by the entrance to the restaurant, when you hear Joel quietly say, “Prettiest employee, too.”

Your head whips around, feet planting on the concrete as you wait for Joel to say something, anything else. Much to your chagrin, he struts right past you shamelessly, heading inside as your dad gives you a confused look.

“You comin’, honey?” You shake your head, trying to dispel the medley of thoughts whirring around your brain. Did I hear him right? No, no, he didn’t mean that. Definitely not.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, stepping inside with a sheepish smile in your dad’s direction. “Thought I heard someone callin’ my name, ‘s my bad.” Your dad just nods his head in understanding before draping an arm over your shoulder and steering you toward the back of the restaurant, where you can see Joel already greeting the members of your party who have already arrived.

As you draw closer, you watch him envelope his daughter in a firm hug, rocking back and forth for a few seconds as he whispers something in her ear. She giggles, punching him lightly in the shoulder, and when Sarah pulls back from his embrace, her deep brown eyes, which are almost identical to her father’s, catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder. Before you have a chance to react, she’s colliding with you so hard you grunt.

“You came!” she squeals, jumping up and down as you wrap your arms around her and giggle.

“Course I came, Sarah. Wouldn’t ‘ve missed your twenty-first birthday for the world, ‘re ya kiddin’?” She takes a step back, holding you by the shoulders before drawing you back in for another tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Jus’ didn’t know ‘f you’d be able to make it, didn’t know ‘f you’d have other plans or somethin’.” She bites her lip when you pull away this time, trying to hide the way she’s beaming at you, and a big smile paints your face.

“Nah, no plans more important than my best friend’s birthday.” She smiles and leads you back to the table, where your dad and Joel have already found their seats. You lean against her and whisper conspiratorially, “Did have to fight with my boss t’get some time off for the occasion, though. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, like ya wouldn’t believe.” Sarah giggles, leveling you with a knowing grin.

“I’m sure I’ve got some idea,” she says as she takes her seat at the head of the table, and you slip around to take the only empty seat, which happens to be between Joel and Tommy, his younger brother that you’ve only seen a handful of times. You offer the younger Miller brother a polite smile, which he returns with a cheeky smirk before you turn back to the birthday girl.

“You’ve ain’t ever been that excited t’see me,” Joel says accusingly at Sarah, jerking his head toward where Sarah had practically tackled you, and you stifle a laugh at the hint of playful jealousy in his tone.

“‘s ‘cause I’m not a grumpy old man,” you snark, and Tommy guffaws beside you, reaching around your back to slap Joel’s shoulder lightheartedly.

“She gotcha there, big brother,” he says, accent saturated with his heavy Texas twang. Joel grumbles something incoherent and Tommy shoots you an amused wink. You watch your dad snort with laughter in his seat across from you, and Sarah’s boyfriend, Luke, who’s seated on her other side opposite Joel tries not to look too entertained by your ribbing of his girlfriend’s father, wisely busying himself with the menu.

A few minutes after ordering your drinks your waitress reappears carrying a large tray brimming with an assortment of alcoholic beverages. You take a sip of your Pinot Noir, hiding a small smile behind the fruity flavor as the waitress sets a large cocktail layered with green, white, and red liquid and adorned with a small Italian flag attached to a thin, black straw in front of a wide-eyed Sarah. You’re unable to mask your laughter, however, when Joel’s eyes find the massive drink and he nearly chokes on his sip of Peroni.

“Babygirl,” he sputters, still recovering from his small conniption, “that’s a lotta-”

“I’m twenty-one now, Dad, I can handle my alcohol,” Sarah assures him with an annoyed roll of her eyes and a look at you that says can you believe this guy? And it’s true, Sarah is more than capable of handling her drinks if the videos she’s shown you of her time at college are any indication.

“I know, jus’... jus’ pace yourself, yeah?” She concedes with a small huff, and you wiggle your eyebrows at her tauntingly.

“Yeah, Sarah, make sure ya pace yourself. Got a while ‘fore ya can hang with us big dogs. Right, Joel?” You elbow him in the side, and he looks at you disdainfully.

“You’re a little shit, y’know that?” he murmurs under his breath. You shrug, snagging a piece of fresh, warm bread from the basket the waitress sat in the middle of the table and dipping it in the plate of olive oil and seasoning before stuffing it in your mouth.

“Learned it fwom the besht,” you say merrily, grinning at him through your mouth full of food, and he sneers at you in disgust before turning his attention to your father and Tommy, who are in a heated debate over the Dallas Cowboys chances of success in the upcoming season.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Tommy, this s’our year! We jus’ picked up that kid from- from… aw shit, where’s he from again?” Your dad rubs his temples, hoping to dislodge the information from some small, dusty compartment of his brain.

“Notre Dame,” Joel chimes in as he reaches for his own piece of bread, and your dad snaps his fingers as his face lights up in remembrance.

“Notre Dame!” he bellows, and you shoot him a look that he promptly returns with an apologetic wince. “Notre Dame, yeah, s’right,” he says, quieter this time with a little smile, and you leave him and Tommy to continue their chat as you tune in to the conversation at the other end of the table.

“Anyway, Dad, so Becca-”

“Which one s’that?” Sarah looks at Joel in disbelief.

“Becca. Rebecca Landry. My best friend in high school, goes t’LSU with me, we lived together ‘fore I moved in with Luke…” Joel just stares at his daughter with vacant eyes, and you snort. “Dude, come on, ya literally grilled for her graduation party.” Joel shakes his head, taking a swig of his beer. You watch how his throat bobs as he swallows and quickly avert your eyes, hoping no one caught you gawking.

“Sorry, hon, doesn’t ring a bell.” She huffs, and Joel smirks, clearly just giving her a hard time.

“Whatever. Anyway, her boyfriend proposed to ‘er last week, and it was jus’ the cutest thing. Real private ‘cause y’know how she is. She told me they don’t have a date set yet, but they’re thinkin’ ‘bout next Spring. Said t’ask if she should add ya to the guest list.” Joel hums non-committally, clearly lacking an opinion on the matter, and you pinch his elbow. He jerks out of your grip, looking at you with annoyance, and you cock your head in Sarah’s direction. When he turns to see her expectant glance, he huffs, head leaning back as he stares at the ceiling.

“Tell ‘er I’ll be there,” Joel capitulates, and Sarah beams in excitement before giving you a grateful grin.

“Awesome! She’ll be so excited, she loves ya.” Joel crosses his arms over his broad chest, shaking his head slightly as he leans back in his chair and spreads his thighs farther. You have to try desperately to keep your breath from hitching at the action.

“Speakin’ o’ weddings and proposals n’ all that,” your dad says, giving Luke a friendly clap on the back. “When’s it your turn, buckaroo? ‘s been, what, three years of datin’? Gotta be soon, hm?”

Luke looks like he wants nothing more than to melt into a puddle and sink into the floor at the line of questioning, something your dad remains completely oblivious to. Feeling bad, you throw the guy a lifeline.

“Leave ‘im alone, Dad. Jesus, you ain’t even that interested in my love life,” you huff, sipping your wine. Luke seems to remember how to breathe, a look of thanks on his face as your dad scrunches his nose up.

“‘s cause I’m not. Don’t wanna know about some boy who’s wastin’ your time ‘cause he ain’t good ‘nough for ya.”

“Your daddy’s right, hon, ya deserve more than what some boy can give ya ,” you hear from your right side, and then a thick arm drapes loosely over your shoulders. You turn to look at Tommy, who’s closer to you than the last time you paid him any attention.

“Knock it off, Tommy,” you hear Joel grumble, and you watch Tommy’s eyes dart over your shoulder and narrow minutely. An expression of innocence plasters over his face to quickly replace the mischievous smirk previously there.

“Knock what off, big brother?” Your gaze shifts to Joel, and you nearly wilt at the stormy look he’s shooting his brother. His eyes are simultaneously full of emotion and totally unreadable, jaw ticking in… wait, is he jealous?

“Quit.” You bristle at Joel’s harsh tone, not realizing until it’s too late that when you shrink back at his timbre, you lean further into Tommy. You can feel the egotism rolling off of the younger Miller brother, and the tension building in Joel’s figure seems to grow until he’s at serious risk of snapping. You’re sure that the only way this ends is with Tommy making another haughty comment that results in Joel leaping over your lap and strangling the man…

“Alright, who ordered the lasagna?” Your waitress’ voice dissipates the thunderous air instantaneously, and everyone’s attention snaps to her. The wide, practiced smile she’s wearing falters for just a second, and she shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, ‘m I interrupting somethin’?” The tight pinch of Joel’s face evaporates before your eye, and you watch, stunned, as he turns toward your waitress.

“Nah, darlin’, you’re alright. Reckon that’ll be mine,” he says, cool as clam. By the time all the food is dished out and you’re digging into your respective dinners, the near fight is long forgotten. Unfortunately, you’re not able to shake the bitter feeling of envy that twisted in your stomach at hearing Joel call the waitress “darlin’”.

Before long, all six of your plates have been cleaned, and each of you sits back in your chairs, thoroughly stuffed full of rich Italian food. Your dad belches, drawing a laugh from the other men at the table while your and Sarah’s faces pinch in distaste, and the casual conversation continues as the street outside grows raucous with the Austin nightlife.

Your dad, ever the chatterbox, is going on about some upcoming project at his contracting firm when you feel it: the firm weight of an arm draped over the backrest of your seat. You pay it no mind at first, chalking it up to Tommy’s touchy but harmless hands.

That is until you feel soft, gentle shapes being drawn into the bare skin of your bicep on Tommy’s side. Your brain doesn’t comprehend the logistics of this immediately, and your head snaps in Tommy’s direction to find the younger man’s attention focused raptly on your father with his hands in his lap.

Your back straightens, and goosebumps prickle across your skin when it finally clicks whose hands are on you; you slowly, inconspicuously face your father again, pretending like you’re listening so as not to spark anyone at the table’s awareness, all while peeking at Joel out of the corner of your eye.

At first glance, it appears that he, like everyone else at the table, is completely engaged with the words tumbling from your dad’s mouth. But you know Joel too well. You pick up on the slight quirk of his lips, the way his thick thighs spread almost obnoxiously wide so his knee grazes yours, and how he’s drumming the thick fingers of his other hand rhythmically against the table. Joel felt how your body reacted to his touch.

And he liked it.

That piece of information is what has the low burn in your belly from earlier in your bedroom reigniting, blazing up your skin and making your neck and chest flush a deep red. Joel must be able to sense your blundering state because he removes his hand from you altogether, causing your heart to drop. Your whole body begins to slump in disappointment just as you feel Joel replace his touch on the bare skin of your thigh, exposed when you sat down and the already short dress you’d thrown on in a panic earlier rode higher up your legs.

He squeezes you there, thumb passing back and forth lightly, and your thighs spread of their own volition to allow him more room. You can see his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he’s able to play it off easily as a reaction to your dad’s story. You do the same with the small smile that stretches your lips as his hand begins to creep higher up your leg.

And it’s risky, what you’re doing. Allowing your dad’s best friend, the father of the girl you’ve lived next to almost your entire life, your boss, to inch his big, calloused hand closer and closer to where you want him most right here at this very public dinner.

And yet, you simply do not care.

Well, you don’t care until you feel the pad of his thumb brush your sex over your panties, and you jerk at the sensation, thighs closing to stop the movement of his hands. The action draws your dad’s attention to you, and his brow furrows as he scans your face.

“You okay, hon? You’re not lookin’ too hot.” Your pulse thunders in your ears as you fumble for an excuse.

“No, yeah, ‘m fine. Jus’... yeah, not – uh, not feelin’ too hot.” Everyone at the table looks at you with concern. Even Joel, though his eyes possess an air of arrogance at your state. The bastard.

“Babe, you can go home ‘f ya need to,” Sarah says, and your eyes go wide as you shake your head.

“No! No, ’m fine, really. I wanna stay for you, ‘s your birthday ‘n all.”

She waves her hand as though she’s physically batting away your excuse. “Party’s basically over anyway. Luke and I were gonna meet some friends at a bar a few blocks over anyway, so y’all are good t’go whenever.”

“Well, I’m ready t'head home now,” your dad says, beginning to rise from his chair. “Rangers game ’s on at 9, and 'f we hurry, I won’t miss more than the first inning.” Joel, reading your dad’s eagerness to get home as his cue to be ready to leave as well, stands, and you catch the way he subtly adjusts himself on the way up. You resign yourself to the fact that the fleeting, secret moment between you is slipping through your fingers, and, albeit reluctantly, you follow his lead.

Tommy’s still seated, sipping casually from his beer, when he informs your dad, “Nah, man, it’s Friday night in downtown Austin. Reckon y’all won’t get home ‘til the third inning, at least.” Your father curses, running a hand over his semi-bald head in genuine worry, and you almost have to laugh at the concern twisting his features into a grimace. The urge to laugh quickly fades as you watch Tommy shrug his shoulders and carelessly say, “There’s a place 'bout five minutes away, lil’ sports bar my buddies and I go to t’watch the game sometimes. Can get kinda rowdy, but you’re welcome to tag along, ‘f ya want.”

Your jaw almost falls off at Tommy, who’s completely oblivious to the bone he’s just thrown you. When you turn just enough to allow you a view of Joel out of the corner of your eye, you immediately notice his almost imperceptibly stiffer posture. You watch your dad’s face light up with excitement, a hell yeah on the tip of his tongue.

And then, suddenly, his expression drops and he’s looking at you guiltily. “Aww shit, Tommy, that sounds great, but ‘f this one,” he says, jabbing a thumb in your direction, “ain’t feelin’ well, I oughta get ‘er home.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You go to object, to insist, practically beg your dad to take Tommy up on his offer so that it’s just you and Joel on the ride home, but Joel beats you to it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, man, I’ll take ‘er.” For the second time in mere minutes, you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to gawk at one of the Miller brothers.

“You sure, Joel? Don’t wanna inconvenience ya or nothin’.” You watch Joel shrug, and then he turns to you, pinning you with an unreadable stare.

“Y’alright with that, lady?” You stare at him, speechless. Are you alright with spending the entire ride home, perhaps even longer if your dad stays to watch the whole game and Sarah is bar-hopping, alone with Joel Miller right after his hand was brushing against your wet, wanting pussy?

Yeah, you were pretty fucking alright with that.

Your silence must draw on for an uncomfortably long time because Joel raises his eyebrows at you, prompting an answer. “Yes!” you say, just a touch too loud, and you take a deep breath before turning back to your dad. “Yeah, sounds good – cool, ‘s cool with me.”

Your dad gives you one more half-hearted once-over, verifying that you don’t need his escort home, but he’s in a losing battle with himself; the moment that Joel offered his services, your dad was sold. The coy little, “Well, ‘f you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” he extends to Joel is like a tepid stamp of finality as his mind is already half-full with Rangers jargon.

Joel gives your dad a nod before jerking his head toward the door. “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get ya home.” And you try, you really do try not to walk with your chest puffed out the entire way to Joel’s truck. You try to keep up the facade of illness that was brought on by your lustful tizzy.

But Joel called you darlin’, and fuck if it didn’t sound better falling from his lips when it was directed at you and not some waitress.

***

Tommy, for perhaps the first time in his entire life, was right; traffic absolutely crawled in the downtown Austin area at this time on a Friday night. You’d peeled away from the restaurant almost thirty minutes ago, when the sun was beginning its descent.

Now, the analog numbers on Joel’s dash blink 8:57 p.m. , the summer sky having just shifted from muddy brown to steel grey and will soon start to give way to the dark of night and the whisperings of stars, and you’ve just managed to make it out of the city.

Thirty minutes, nearly two thousand seconds, and each one totally void of speech. Joel stared straight out the front windshield, hands carefully gripping the steering wheel as you leaned your cheek against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the metro landscape give way to soil and farmland, groups of clubgoers replaced by black and brown spotted cows.

It’s not until the current CD in Joel’s radio reaches its end and the gears click, switching to the familiar crooning voice of Bob Dylan, that your soft singing breaks the silence.

“What was that?” Joel asks, and you turn your gaze to watch him, focus still intent on the road in front of him.

“Nothin’, just singin’.” He looks at you then, just a quick glance in your direction, but it makes your blood sing.

“Y’like Bob Dylan? “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, hm?” You shrug noncommittally, and his responding smirk makes you sit up in your seat.

“What’re ya laughin’ at?” Joel just shakes his head, and you lean over and swat his bicep playfully. “What?”

“Nothin’, baby.” The word sounds perfect in his low, gruff timbre, and you grin stupidly. When he sees your expression, he reaches over and wraps his big palm around your knee, giving it a shake. “Got good taste s’all. Didn’t expect it from ya.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to pretend like the large spread of his hand over your bare skin doesn’t make your core throb.

“Don’t act so surprised, Miller. You should know better than anyone how much I like old shit.” He clucks his tongue, sliding his hand farther up your leg and squeezing your thigh in warning.

“Careful,” he advises teasingly, but you’re not feeling particularly cautious tonight.

“Says you.”

“Says me?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind the action as all the warmth in your body is currently shooting to a spot in your tummy. “Yeah, Joel, says you. I wasn’t the one with my hands between your legs in the middle of dinner tonight.” You watch Joel’s posture straighten and you try to hide your grin at his reaction.

Bingo.

You bite your lip and watch his eyes dart in your direction. Even in the ever-darkening dusk, you can see the hint of hunger in his pupils. “Didn’t see you complainin’.” You adjust in your seat, and Joel’s hand slips higher, his pinky just barely dipping beneath the hem of your dress.

“‘s ‘cause I liked it,” you say matter-of-factly, and you watch him exhale heavily. His head swings lazily to look at you, eyes dropping to where his palm rests on your slightly spread thighs before traveling up to meet your stare.

“Yeah? Liked me touchin’ your pussy with all those people ‘round? Any of ‘em coulda caught us, pretty girl. Coulda caught me feelin’ how fuckin’ wet you were, soakin’ through your panties.” And you’re almost sure Joel’s trying to make a point in there somewhere. That what you two did was risky in and of itself, not to mention the fact that he was touching you like that in public.

And yet all you can focus on is that name. Pretty girl. You think it’s your favorite thing he’s ever called you.

When you don’t answer right away, Joel looks back to the road. You watch him check the rearview mirror, and then he’s making a left down a long road and parking the car on a small dirt pull-off a few hundred feet in.

You look around, surveying your surroundings; tall prairie grass decorates your side of the road while a large cornfield stretches over the side closest to Joel, and the only thing lighting the earth for a few miles in any direction is the soft glow of the moon overhead. When you focus your attention on Joel again, half of his face is shadowed while the gleam of lunar opalescence illuminates the other half.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, and you can’t help but stare. You reach toward Joel, cautiously at first, but emboldened when he squeezes your leg. You cup his jaw and rub your thumb over his stubbled jaw; his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and you shuffle closer, Joel’s hand falling away from you as you sit up on your knees and reach across the center console to cup the dark side of his face with your other hand.

His palm finds a new position on your hip, and when his eyes open again, revealing his dark, chocolatey irises to you, your body leans closer toward his of its own volition. As if something inside of him, perhaps the very marrow of his bones, is magnetized to yours.

“Joel,” you say, soft voice cutting through the silence in the cab of the truck.

“Hmm?”

“Is this… is this bad? What we’re doing?’ His eyes dart around your face, taking in your heated gaze with a warmth of his own. He sighs as his other hand traces up the side of your body before slipping around your shoulders and resting on the nape of your neck.

“I wouldn’t say it’s good.” You nod, scratching your nails lightly through the salt-and-pepper beard he’s let grow.

“Should we stop?” It comes out as a whisper, laced with apprehension, tediousness, and want. So, so much want.

“Probably.” And he’s right. Whatever this thing between you and Joel is, it’s not feasible. Sure, it would be great. Amazing, even… until it’s not. Until the appetite for each other dies out and what’s left is a hollow skeleton of awkward encounters and forced conversation to keep up appearances.

Either that or the hunger becomes all-consuming, to the point where you can’t eat, can’t breathe, can’t sleep without thoughts of Joel dominating your mind.

And maybe that’s worse, you think. Finding out what Joel tastes like, what it feels like when he sinks into your wet heat, just for it to one day be stolen from you.

Because there isn’t an angle to approach this from that doesn’t end in the same unfortunate reality; Joel can’t be yours. He will never be yours.

And, so, yeah. You probably should stop. But as you go to pull away, to take your hands off of Joel and sit back in your seat while Joel returns the truck to the main road before depositing you safely at home like the good friend he is, Joel’s grip on the nape of your neck tightens. And then he’s tugging your mouth to meet his and your hands, still cupping his cheek, are pulling his face in to meet you halfway.

When Joel’s lips slot against yours, you’re surprised by how soft he is. Joel Miller, perpetually gruff and probably born with callouses etched into his hands, is so inconceivably gentle at the first contact of his mouth against yours. You sigh, breathing him in as he threads his fingers into your hair, and a moment of tranquility washes over you. This truck is the only place that has ever or will ever exist, and you and Joel are the only two people in the world.

You slide one of your hands from his jaw to his neck, stroking the solid strength of his throat, and a rough noise vibrates from him. You repeat the motion experimentally, and he groans into you, tongue darting out to politely ask for entrance into your mouth.

You accept with an enthusiastic moan, and that’s when the seemingly endless reservoir of Joel’s reserve drains dry. He licks into you, tongue caressing yours when you part your lips for him, and the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you held steadily against him. He feasts on you, stealing the air you breathe as he kisses you ferociously.

Joel sucks on your tongue when you go to mewl, and the sound is replaced by a wanton whine. You roll your hips over nothing, and Joel clocks the movement immediately. You feel his reluctance as he drags his mouth from yours, and you sit and wait, carefully assessing every minute change in his expression as you try to regain your composure.

You’re sure you’re supposed to be embarrassed right now, ashamed that you couldn’t keep your neediness in check. However, you can only think about two things: how fucking horny you are at the moment, and how that was probably the only time you’ll ever kiss Joel because this entire thing is about to come crashing down in short-lived, fiery oblivion.

But Joel does something. Something that really shocks you, leaves you vulnerable to attack and exposed right down to the root of you. He looks you up and down, from the slightly frumpled state of your green dress to the no-doubt wild gleam in your eyes, and smirks before saying, “You need t’be filled up, don’t ya, baby?”

You smile and nod, licking your lips as you appraise the man sitting in front of you. He’s so intoxicatingly broad, the sleeves of his shirt stretching tightly over his biceps while the legs of his jeans pull taut along his thighs. You shift in your seat again, causing Joel to pull you closer, and though you’re uncomfortably sprawled across the center console, you’ve never felt more right than you do right now.

Your lips are brushing Joel’s, so close you can feel the warm puffs of breath leaving his nostrils, and any slight surge forward by either of you would connect your mouths again. Instead, you stay like that, so close but still too far for your liking.

“Tell me what it is you want, sweetheart.” You angle your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before drifting your lips back to hover over his.

“Want your cock, Joel.” Your bluntness must take him by surprise because his head falls back against his seat and he groans. You take the opportunity to drop your lips to his neck, kissing it lightly before licking up the column of his throat and biting delicately at the junction where his neck meets his jaw.

“Yeah?” He takes one of your hands and drags it down his front, letting you feel the muted strength of his abdomen tailored from years of manual labor and the soft swell of his belly before landing on the thick bulge in his pants. You pull away from where you were beginning to leave a small bruise on his neck to look at where your hand cups his clothed erection, and you practically drool at the sight. “You want this, hmm?”

“Yes,” you confirm airily before your eyes snap up to meet his, heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “Please, Joel, I- I need it.” He nods, the hand that guided yours leaving you to your own devices and drifting back up to rub his thumb over your lips. You take the opportunity to massage him through his pants, and he sighs, smirking at you.

“Tell me where ya need it, honey,” he lilts, and you grip his bicep as you squeeze his cock lightly. “Need it here?” He nudges his thumb gently between your parted lips, and even as you shake your head, your mouth opens to him, allowing him to push his finger inside. You swirl your tongue over the salty pad of his thumb, switching to mellow kitten licks before taking it deeper.

“No?” he asks, quirking a brow at you. He presses his thumb down against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide so he can see down your throat. “Gotta tell me where then, baby.” You close your mouth again, sucking on his thumb briefly before pulling off of him with a lewd pop.

Your eyes never leave his, and you watch them turn impossibly darker when you tell him earnestly, “My pussy. Want you to stretch my cunt with your fat cock.” He huffs lightly at the vulgarity of your words, and you squeeze him through his pants again.

“You’re a dirty fuckin’ girl, y’know that?” He looks almost in awe, and you smirk at him, beginning to crawl across the center console to straddle him. When he stops you with a hand to your sternum, you look at him in confusion. “We can’t tonight, darlin’. Wanna take my time with you when I fuck ya, gotta make sure I get ya ready.”

You’re so utterly disappointed you ache with it, pouting at him as you draw in close. “But I’m ready now, Joel. So fuckin’ wet for you, have been since the restaurant.”

He gives you a chaste kiss before pulling back and jerking his head toward your seat. “Show me.” You smirk as you slink back into your seat. You rest with your back against the car door, your right leg dangling off the seat while you tuck your left leg up and spread your knees farther apart, causing the hem of your dress to ride up your thighs until it’s brushing your tummy. You can tell by the wrecked look in Joel’s eyes that from this angle, he has a perfect view of the damp spot decorating the slip of pink lace that is your underwear.

“Fuck, baby, ya weren’t lyin’,” he mutters, fingers smoothing his mustache. “Pretty lil’ panties are soaked. That all for me?” You bite your lip and nod, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy as you ghost your fingertips over the soft skin of your thighs. He makes a noise of appreciation as he watches your movements hungrily, fist clenching as your digits move closer to your aching core.

“Mhm, f’course it is,” you assure, letting out a breathless, needy gasp when your fingers brush your clit over your underwear. You’re sure you must look fucked out, and you’d be embarrassed by that fact if it weren’t for the heady look Joel’s pinning you with right now. You whine as Joel brings his hand down to palm the thick, rigid outline of his cock bulging against his jeans, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. You roll your hips and whine at the stimulation, doing it again without breaking eye contact with Joel.

He squeezes himself and groans as you rut slowly against yourself, dipping a finger down to tease at your soaking entrance over your damp panties, and he smirks. “You gonna show me how ya fuck yourself, baby? Show me how ya like it, hm?”

And you would. You really, really would. Except Joel Miller is sitting in front of you with nothing but a few measly scraps of fabric preventing you from his hard length, and you think that it would be such a waste to not take advantage of that fact.

Besides, you’ve already made yourself come more times than you can count with Joel Miller’s name on your tongue.

“No, baby,” you shake your head, and his brows pinch in confusion. You lick your lips, hand halting its ministrations as you sit up on your haunches and stare at Joel. “Want ya to fill me up.”

He huffs exasperatedly at that, and his tone is laced with annoyance when he says, “Jus’ told ya, ‘m not fuckin’ ya t’night-”

“Joel.” Your interruption shuts him up and he watches you lean in. You brush your lips over his, along his jaw and up his cheek before halting by his ear. “I want you,” you say, dragging a hand down his chest to rest over his in his lap, “to put your cock in my mouth and fill me up.”

You apply pressure down over his hand, making him squeeze himself and the sound he makes is something close to a growl. He angles his head so that your lips meet for a heated kiss and he licks into your mouth immediately, tongue dancing with yours.

“Yeah?” Joel breathes into your mouth, and the hand not palming his dick threads into the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs, pulling your head back so that you look down your nose at him with wide eyes and heavy lids. “Ya wanna suck me off?” You smile almost shyly and nod, and he tuts at you, bending to kiss the hollow of your throat before licking a stripe up your neck.

“Don’t go quiet on me now, darlin’. You had so much t’say earlier, know this pretty mouth s’good for more than just takin’ my dick.” You whine, pressing your thighs together as best you can and rubbing, trying to give yourself some, any friction.

“Wanna taste you, Joel,” you murmur, already delirious and you haven’t even gotten your mouth on him. “Want it so bad, please.”

He rakes his eyes over you, takes in the needy glide of your thighs against each other and the ragged pants making your chest heave. He must take pity on your haggard form because he grins affectionately and releases his hand from your hair.

“Since ya asked so nicely,” he says, palm gliding around to sit on your shoulder. He strokes the column of your throat a few times, watching you with a hooded gaze before nodding toward his crotch. “Go on, baby. Show me how much ya want it.”

You don’t need to be told any more than that before you’re hastily undoing his belt, ripping it from his pants and tossing it into the backseat while simultaneously popping the button on his jeans. Where your movements are hurried and ravenous, Joel’s are soft and sweet; he strokes your back lightly, broad, calloused palm feeling heavenly as it tracks over your bare skin.

You lower the zipper on his jeans and he lifts his hips, allowing you to drag the coarse fabric down his thighs. It takes you a second after you’ve maneuvered his pants out of your way to realize you’re face to face with the stiff outline of Joel’s cock, straining against the black fabric of his boxers. Your mouth goes chalky when you see the small dot of moisture near his fat tip, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning over and pressing a kiss to the spot.

Your groan is in unison with his, and Joel must be growing impatient because his hand snakes up to gently cradle your neck. “Don’t be a tease, pretty girl,” he scolds tenderly, and the endearment causes you to look up at him through your lashes. What you find in his eyes is something lusty, full of desire and want and… pure, unadulterated awe. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Wasn’t bein’ a tease,” you say, bending back down to mouth at his cock over his boxers, and he moans when you lave at his swollen tip through his underwear.

“Nah, jus’ so needy ya can’t even wait ‘til I get my cock out t’put your mouth on it, hm?” You lick up his dick and feel it twitch, his thigh tensing underneath the hand you have braced there. You smirk, looking up at him as you dip your pointer fingers under the band of his underwear, hooking your digits and arching your eyebrow.

He acquiesces with a lazy smile, lifting his hips, and you slowly drag the tight fabric of his boxers down to where his pants pool around his knees. However, you don’t immediately look at Joel’s length after fully freeing it from the confines of his clothes. You’re not sure why a cool feeling of nervous anticipation washes over you, but you find yourself stalling, rubbing your thumb over the inside of his knee and kissing his thigh gently.

Joel, the attentive man he is, picks up on your nerves immediately. He massages the area where your spine meets your skull, and you practically melt at the feeling. “Y’okay?” he says softly, and you nod, turning your head to rest on his thigh. Your eyes avoid his dick, jumping up to land on his face. His expression is so kind, so compassionate and observant, that it makes you ache.

“‘m fine. More than fine, ‘m good. Great.” He nods, stroking your cheek before he frowns.

“Y’know, ‘f ya aren’t feelin’ it anymore, we can stop. We don’t have’ta-”

“S’not that,” you mutter, and he stops talking, waiting for you to go on. You inhale deeply, looking for the courage to speak your thoughts into the charged atmosphere of the truck. “I jus’... don’t want ya to regret this.” He flashes you a perplexed look before tipping his head back and laughing. Your cheeks blaze with heat, embarrassment creeping in to tamper the fire of want, and you bury your face into Joel’s thigh to hide.

“Baby,” he says, and when you don’t respond, he grabs your jaw and makes you turn to him. “Baby. Look at me.” You stare, lip twisted in your teeth, and you can’t help but feel small under the weight of his gaze. He angles your chin down then, and you finally let your eyes fall, taking in the cock you’ve tried to conjure in your imagination while your fingers were stuffed in your pussy more times than you can count.

In a word, Joel Miller’s dick is pretty. Thick and long and tan. Veiny and girthy, easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. His tip, which is a few shades darker than every other part of his length, is an angry red, weeping precome from the little slit at the top. The thick weight of him bobs up and sits at attention against his belly, resting against him obediently. Your mouth pools with saliva at the sight of it.

Through the cotton in your ears, you can just barely make out when Joel says, “You tell me, honey. ‘s that look like regret t’you?” You swallow thickly and shake your head.

“N-no,” you stutter, sitting up slightly. You admire the way pearly beads of precome trail down his length and subconsciously lick your lips.

“No.” You can feel his stare on the side of your face, but you can’t focus on anything except the cock in front of you that has you drooling while your cunt begs to be filled. “Want this, sweet girl, jus’ as bad as you, and that ain’t gonna change tomorrow or the day after or next week. I want this,” he says, and he says it with such confidence and surety that you have no choice but to believe him. You nod, almost in a trance, before bending over and pressing a chaste kiss to his fat head.

He must not have been expecting that response from you because at the contact of your lips against his hard member, his head falls back against the seat and he groans, the sound drawing out when you start to press soft kitten licks to his slit.

“That’s it, honey – fuck, feels good.” You preen under his praise, smirking as you spread your lips to wrap around his tip. He hisses through his teeth, and the noise is all you need to start slowly working him down your throat. He’s so big, and even just the head of his cock has your jaw straining slightly.

You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to take him fully in your mouth, that you’ll have to use one, if not both hands to stroke the rest of his long, thick dick as you focus your attention on the head. But that doesn’t stop you from trying.

You pull off of him quickly, and he responds with a disappointed little grunt, mouth turned down in a depressing little frown. That is, until he watches you spit into your hand and place your palm around his base, stroking him slowly. A lopsided smile replaces his previous expression and when you twist your fist at the same time your mouth latches back onto his cock, he can’t help but jerk his hips. Joel’s thrust makes his tip kiss the back of your throat and it takes you by surprise, making you gag.

You watch his eyes go wide in worry as he immediately murmurs, “‘m sorry, baby,” his voice utterly wrecked. You lick from the space your fist occupies and swirl your tongue over him a few times, looking into his eyes as you catch your breath.

“S’okay, Joel,” you purr, lips against him as his cock twitches at the low cadence of your voice. “I can handle it, I won’t break.” And then you’re right back to easing him down your throat. Drool dribbles from your mouth as you work him in your fist, stroking and twisting and pulling while your tongue focuses on the sensitive area you’ve discovered just under his head.

The cab of the truck fills with the melody of your slick mouth sucking Joel off, punctuated by the sweet sounds falling from his lips. Joel isn’t a particularly talkative person, but you’re incredibly happy to find that all that changed when your head was bobbing up and down his length.

“Good girl, perfect fuckin’ girl,” he grits out, tightening his hand into a fist and slamming it against his window a few times as he struggles to keep his hips stationary. You hum around him, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to thread into your hair to encourage him to move. A throaty groan rips through him as he realizes what you’re asking, and he thrusts lightly into your mouth.

You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper than he had been just a minute ago, and the feeling of being so utterly full of him makes you whine, shuffling slightly to relieve the pressure building at the apex of your thighs.

“Y’like that, sweetheart? Like when I fuck your pretty face?” The utter filth he’s spewing at you makes you gasp and whimper, and he laughs almost smugly at your reaction to his words. “Yeahhh, you like that. Go on, baby, touch yourself while you suck my cock.” You don’t have to be told twice, snaking your hand down to rub frantically at your aching clit while he slowly, gently jerks his hips into the tight, warm, wet vice of your mouth.

You feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm in no time, seeing as how you were already thoroughly worked up from your little display at the restaurant and everything that’s transpired in Joel’s truck since. Actually, if you’re being honest, you’ve been soaking into your panties since that stunt you pulled in your room before you even made it to dinner.

You feel stuffed to the brim, Joel’s cock hitting a spot in your throat over and over that has tears of pleasure dripping down your cheeks to combine with your spit lathering his cock. He brushes his big thumb over the path a tear careens down, brushing away the wetness as he drags his hand down to cradle your throat.

“Doin’ real good for me, doin’ perfect.” He squeezes lightly around your neck and curses. “Shit, darlin’, I can feel my cock right here.” He taps your throat and you whine, eyes rolling back as you rut desperately against your fingers. You’re so, so close, and you can tell that Joel is too by the way his tempered pace is growing more erratic, his shallow thrusts less controlled. The noises dripping from his lips to meet your ears are gruffer now too, words he’s failing to string into sentences as they're cut off by expletives and needy moans.

Joel looses a low, gravelly groan that signals he’s mere moments from reaching his peak, and you hear him choke out, “Where do ya want it, baby?’ just as the pull of pleasure burning in your tummy goes taut. You don’t answer, opting instead to simply pull off of him and seat your open mouth at the head of his cock, sticking your tongue out and looking up into his face. Joel smirks as you continue jerking him off with the hand not paying attention to your clit, but his smile falls into a slack-jawed look of lust as his balls pull tight and he comes.

The thick ropes of warm cum spurting over your tongue and decorating the inside of your mouth are just what you need to push you into your own climax; your legs shake and you let a high-pitched sound ring through the truck cab as your cunt clenches hard around nothing, wetness seeping from your underwear and coating the insides of your thighs.

Despite your own orgasm, you make sure to catch every last drop of Joel’s spend, holding it on your tongue for him to see. The space goes silent for a few seconds, both of you basking in your respective post-coital bliss as your eyes scan over each other. Your gaze hangs heavy as he takes in your sweaty, disheveled form languidly before landing back on your face. Joel shoots you an endearing, sweet look, before brushing the hair plastered to your sweaty forehead away from your face.

“Go on, honey. Swallow it f’me.” You do as Joel says, swallowing the sticky fluid he’s shot down your throat, and you find the salty, tangy taste surprisingly pleasant. You clean the corners of your mouth where some of his seed landed with your thumb and, with his eyes on you, push the digit into your mouth, sucking it dry. The dirty act makes Joel shake his head and chuckle, and once you’ve finished, you open your mouth and tip your head back to show him that you’ve taken care of his mess.

You both sit there for a while, just staring at each other with your head resting on his thigh as he strokes your cheek. You’d almost call the gesture loving, but you don’t want to be presumptuous. After a decent amount of time has passed and the stars have come to bear witness to your dirty deed, you turn your head and catch the pad of Joel’s thumb in a soft kiss.

“Oughta get back,” you say, reluctantly breaking the silence. He nods, and you stay like that for a second longer before sitting back in your seat. Joel starts the truck and traverses down the lonely path toward the main road. As he pulls back out onto the black asphalt, likely still warm from the summer sun that’s long disappeared, you can’t help but wonder if this moment will forever belong to the space between that long stretch of prairie grass and corn stalks.

You can’t help but hope that it won’t.

***

As Joel nears your development, you pull down the sun visor on your side and flip open the mirror. Your mouth falls open and a little gasp slips at the sight that meets your eyes. Joel must hear it because his gaze flickers in your direction.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asks, worry lacing your tone, and you almost giggle at his concern.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess,” you groan, raking your fingers through the hair that Joel’s fingers knotted. Your lips are swollen and chapped, your eyelids heavy with the look of lust, and there’s a track of mascara streaking down your cheek from your tears. To put it bluntly, you look like you’ve been freshly fucked.

Joel looks at you again and barks out a laugh as he turns down your street; he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park so that he can turn to you more fully. You’re frantically trying to will the bright blush on your cheeks indicative of sex from your cheeks as you wipe furiously at the now-dried trail of black mascara.

“Waterproof” my ass.

Your head snaps in Joel’s direction when you hear him chuckle again, your eyes wide with a plea for help. He shrugs, smirking slightly. “Better get inside ‘fore someone sees ya, or else they’ll know what we’ve been up to.”

You know he’s teasing, but his words make you deflate slightly nonetheless as they feel a little bit like he’s kicking you out; however, you steel yourself quickly. There was nothing for him to kick you out of, and it was silly of you to think otherwise. Sure, you’d just sucked his dick and made him come down your throat. And, yeah, maybe he’d almost gotten caught with his hand between your legs at dinner. But that didn’t mean anything.

Just two adults engaging in a casual hookup. That’s all.

Even as you try and convince yourself of this, your reasoning, and consequently your attitude, falls flat. You grunt with thinly veiled annoyance as you grab the door handle and make to leave. “Could’ve jus’ parked at your house, I woulda walked,” you mutter, irritation simmering in your gut as you go to open the door, but then a strong hand reaches across your lap to wrap around your hand on the handle and pull it back shut.

When you try again and are met with the same result, you huff and turn, coming face to face with Joel. His brows are furrowed and the corner of his plush lips are turned down. You hate yourself for wanting to kiss him right now, even though he’s actively telling you to go while not allowing you to do so.

“What?” you bite out, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to. He squeezes your hand, and you feel tension you didn’t realize was making your body go rigid ease.

“What’s a’matter, baby?” The pet name makes you blush, and now you feel even more stupid.

“Nothin’,” you lie. Rather convincingly too, you think proudly, until Joel cocks an eyebrow and informs you just how shoddy your facade is.

“Know ya too well t’believe that bullshit. Tell me what’s wrong.” You huff, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You drop your hands into your lap, eyes falling to watch your thumbs twiddle. You don’t think you can look into those all-consuming brown eyes right now.

“Jus’... I dunno, bein’ dumb. Thought you were kickin’ me out or somethin’.” You shrug indifferently, and he sits there for a second, watching you fidget nervously. You see him scan your surroundings out of the corner of your eye, making sure no prying eyes are around, and before you can even react, Joel’s gripping the back of your neck and turning your head to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. You melt into him, sighing in relief at the feeling of his tongue licking the seam of your mouth.

You stay like that, greedily tasting each other. Or, in Joel’s case, greedily tasting the lingering flavor of himself in your mouth. He pulls back suddenly, chest heaving and eyes dark, and you lick your lips and grin at him.

“I’ll see ya soon, baby,” he says with conviction, and you nod slowly. But apparently your response isn’t convincing enough for him, because he pulls you in closer and says against your lips slowly, “I will see you soon.”

“Okay,” you breathe into his mouth, and he kisses you chastely once, twice before opening your door and tapping your thigh.

“Now get.” You smile, hopping out of his car, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way to your front door. Even when you’ve disappeared into your house, you can feel the brand of his gaze on your flesh.

You watch through the window as he sits in his truck for another minute, and then he reverses down your driveway and pulls into the one next door, hopping out of his truck and leisurely heading up to his front door. You watch him walk into his house, and only then do you stop watching.

You’re not entirely sure how you get up to your bedroom, but you’re almost able to believe that you floated there like an apparition, head airy and thoughts bordering on dream-like. When you collapse on your bed, your mind is on the feel of Joel’s tongue in your mouth, of his cock thrusting into your throat, of what that same tongue and those same thrusts might feel like in your pussy.

What you’re not thinking about is how utterly fucked you are. You’d told yourself once that you wouldn’t be able to do a thing like this with Joel because you’d never have your fill, always wanting more after that first initial taste of him. But you’d gone against your better judgment tonight, and now that little crack of yearning had split into a yawning chasm of want; greedy and unsatiated and hungry.

Hungry for one thing, one person, one man: Joel Miller.

Yeah, you were fucked

___________________________________________________________

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel fic #joel the last of us

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punkshort · 4 months

Text

i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

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the-lemonaut · 1 year

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Characters co-owned w @_magic.stardust_ on IG 😌✨ (a couple more comics abt this on my account already)

I'm not a very positive person, i have a LOT of doomer tendencies. I feel everything like it's cranked up to the max, and as you can imagine it doesn't feel great. Every day throws more atrocious things in my face, and i can't ignore it 🥲

I see other people feeling the same way. We dissociate and numb ourselves by watching, playing, buying stuff. Hateful movements are gaining traction and climate change has its foot in the door

And it's all happening either way, to some degree. I feel like shit, and i'm sick of that. I might as well have a little bit of hope, otherwise i'll go bonkers 😭 Do we continue doomering our way through life or ignoring things altogether, or do we choose to hope a little?

That's why i'm looking into Solarpunk and am thinking of taking any readers (and myself) on a little journey through a better world, and how it might work, through a series of mini-comics I'm posting here. I don't have all the answers (no one person ever does), and i don't hold any pretenses that this kind of world is going to be our future. But i often hear "You love critiquing the status quo, but what do you propose instead?" I'd like to find out too. Here's to something we can hope for, no matter how slim the chances are! Because as I said, i might just lose my mind otherwise ☠️

P.S for new peeps: this is an AU with me and my friend's OCs, so all characters are genderless and go by they/them. It's not identical to our world in that regard, but other than this fact we try to keep it more or less realistic 🤙

I spent a thousand krillion hours on this and the other Solarpunk comics, consider throwing 2$ at me on Buy Me A Coffee to raise my spirits :] I'm not doing well mentally these days, but people's appreciation helps a lot. Thank you very much!

#star sailors #solarpunk #solarpunk art #star sailors SPAU #image described #alt text #my art

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amomentsescape · 7 months

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Slashers Saying "I Love You" for the First Time Headcanon

A/N: This was meant to be the last post for Slasher Summer, but I have a recent request that will be posted next week <3

Michael Myers

Michael is clearly a man of few words

Showing affection in general is virtually impossible for him

So the night that you decided to lay it all on the table was one of confusion and sadness

"I love you," you had said softly

You had finally mustered up the courage to look at him after this, and he just stared back at you through the mask

You could feel the tears swelling up into your throat, your stomach growing queasy

He tilted his head at the falling tears

"I knew this was pointless. You don't feel a damn thing for me."

You went to stand up, but he just grabbed your wrist firmly, not letting you budge

You grew a bit angry at this

"Why am I still here if you feel nothing for me?!"

He pulled you closer to him

And you suddenly heard him speak quietly in a deep, rough voice

"You're the only life I'd never harm"

You felt your face soften at this

He isn't very good at verbally saying he loves you

But now you know he does

Jason Voorhees

Jason doesn't really speak much like the aforementioned man above him

But he is better with at least showing you that he cares

He always protects you, brings you anything you request

He has even gone out of his way to pick you flowers from the forest floor

They had some blood on them, but the sentiment was there

So when he came home later than normal one night, you about passed out from the relief

"Jesus, I thought something happened to you!" you hurried. "Don't ever do that again. I love you too much to just sit here and worry."

He grew incredibly still at this

Your face felt warm when you realized what you had said

You shifted your gaze down, only to feel his cold arms wrap around you tightly

He held you for quite a while like this, trying to show you that he felt the same

Freddy Krueger

You found yourself in Freddy's arms like you did every night

He was rubbing your back gently, trying to help you out of your slump

Today hadn't gone very well for you

With screaming customers, clumsy hands, and a migraine, work was about as calm as a hurricane for you

However, Freddy's presence alone was enough to relax you

Which was funny considering who he was

"I love you..." you murmured quietly

You continued to relax into him, only for his rubbing to stop

You opened your eyes suddenly when you realized

"Um..." you started

You finally met his gaze and saw the biggest grin on his face

"Well, it's about damn time," he rasped. "And I love you too."

Thomas Hewitt

Another man with little to say

He's a bit too shy to ever say those three words first, so when you finally broke and said them, he couldn't help but feel excited

You were cleaning a deep gash in his shoulder from a victim fighting back

He didn't move a muscle as he watched you do your magic

You sighed at him, and he made a grunting sound to insinuate his concern

"I just don't like seeing the people I love hurt like this"

You hadn't realized what you said until you felt his body stiffen

You suddenly froze as well

After a moment of awkward silence, you finally raised your gaze

When you managed to meet his eyes, he quickly pulled you into him, his heart racing against your ear

You laughed a bit at this and hugged him back, feeling a weight lift off of your shoulders

Bubba Sawyer

You had been out in the Texas heat with Bubba trying to help clean up after the family's latest... endeavor

However, the 100 degree weather was certainly doing a number on you

You took a seat on the porch steps and closed your eyes, trying to build up enough energy to carry on

After a few minutes, you felt a sudden jolt of cold on the back of your neck, making you jump

When you looked up, you saw Bubba kneeling in front of you

You realized that he had placed an ice pack on your back

"Thank you," you spoke quietly

He continued to stare at you with concern in his eyes

"I'm okay," you reassured. "I promise."

You reached out your pinky to him in hopes of solidifying this promise

However, he grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his chest, making you feel his heartbeat

You looked up at him and saw slightly teary eyes behind his mask

You felt your heart flutter

"I love you too," you responded softly

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was currently being a bit bratty with you before bed time

He wasn't one to deny your kisses, but he was very determined to not go to bed tonight

"It's late, Brahms," you argued, leaning in to try and give him his goodnight kiss

But he just kept turning his head away, dodging all of your attempts

"I'm not even tired," he tried to fight back

You groaned. "Fine. Then you can just go to bed without your kiss."

You went to stand up but was immediately tugged back into the bed

"Stay," he said

You shook your head. "I'm exhausted, Brahms. I want to sleep."

After a few moments of consideration, he finally broke and tilted his head to you

You happily leaned in to kiss him, only to feel his lips forcefully push against yours

This kiss was much more heated than expected

"What was that for?" you asked

He tucked himself further into the covers, smiling intently

"I love you. Goodnight!" he said, pulling you into him

You just laid there dumbfounded, not even sure Brahms knew what he had just said

"I love you too..." you finally responded moments later

Norman Bates

You were currently crying and frantically pacing around

The latest motel customer was dead and bleeding out into the floor in front of you

Norman had been standing on top of him, a dirty knife gripped tightly in his hand

Norman was also frantic right now, trying to explain himself

"He was harassing you, (Y/N)! I couldn't let him treat you like that."

It was true that he had been making inappropriate remarks towards you, making you feel uncomfortable the whole time he had been staying here

But you didn't think murder should have been the first solution

Hell, you didn't even know Norman was capable of something like this

It made you question everything

"You just killed someone, Norman! Jesus, is he even the first one? Is this what you were going to do with me once you didn't need my help anymore?!"

Norman's face dropped at this, and he let the knife fall to the ground

"What?! No! (Y/N), I love you. P-please..."

You could feel your heart drop at this

God, was he really just trying to protect you? Something about those eyes made you want to believe him

You slowly began to walk over, his sad eyes watching you

When you finally got in front of him, you pulled him into a strong embrace

"I-I think I love you too, Norman."

Billy Loomis

It was just another typical house party you managed to drag Billy to

He didn't mind these types of gatherings usually, but lately, he only really went to them if he planned to kill everyone there

So actually going as himself felt a little odd

But he'd do it for you

And now here you were, tipsy and dancing all over him

He liked your attention for sure, but he hadn't drank nearly as much as you since he was your ride home

"C'mon, Billy!" you tried convincing him. "Dance with me!"

He just let out a light chuckle at this

"I'm not really in the dancing mood, babe," he responded

You pouted at him cutely. "Pleeeease? Don't you love me?"

He felt himself freeze up at this

You two hadn't used that L word yet

But he quickly shook this off

He smiled. "Of course I love you."

It was your turn to freeze up. You didn't realize what you said until he repeated it back. You suddenly felt 100% sober

"Really?" you asked

He rolled his eyes. "Damn right."

You smiled brightly

Stu Macher

Stu ran out of the now silent house with adrenaline pumping through his veins

When he finally saw you waiting for him, his face broke out into a wide grin

"How did it go?!" you asked urgently

He just let out an excited laugh

"Babe, it was perfect! I got 'em all in just 10 minutes!"

You giggled happily with him as he wrapped you in his arms, swinging you around with him

"Did I turn off the lights at the right time?"

He nodded urgently. "It was absolutely perfect! God, I love you."

He squeezed you into him tighter, but all you could think of was what he just said

When he realized you weren't holding him back, he pulled away and looked at you concerned

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asked

You shook your head. "Stu. You just said you loved me."

He looked even more confused. "Yeah, cuz I do...?"

Stu didn't understand why this was such a surprise

So after a few moments, the shock finally wore off

"I love you too," you responded

His smile only grew even more. "Good!"

Eric Draven

"Jesus," you muttered to yourself

Eric simply laughed at this

"It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself killed!"

He raised his brow at this

You groaned. "I know, I know. You can't die, but this must not have felt very good!"

He smirked. "Been through worse."

"Yeah, and if you do this again, I'll find a way to kill you for the second time."

He just watched you with a content smile

He couldn't help but feel warm at your constant doting

He hated to make you worry every night, but coming home to see that relieved look on your face made everything worth it

You were the only thing that actually made him feel alive nowadays

"I love you, you know?" you finally sighed

He could feel his eyes burn at this

It had been so long since he felt loved by a person, and here you were admitting it to him

You looked up at him after a moment of silence

"Are you gonna say something, or do I just look stupid now-"

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You smiled. "Good. Just another reason for you to be careful coming home to me."

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liaswills · 2 months

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Pick a card: What does this person want to say to you? ❤️

Good evening lovely darlings! I'm back with another Tumblr Tarot post- for the delusional girlies, this is another What would this person want to say to you? Particularly love focused! This could be a message from a S/O- or F/s/o or perhaps even a f/o! Depending on your degree of delulu, ofcourse. :)

Pick a pile! Use the pics underneath or go based on intuition. Thankyou! ❤️

Oh, love of mine. What wonders there are to be found when you look into my eyes. This is all poetic, truly, but in my soul, the deepest parts of it, I know that you'll still be hoping to come back to me. It is the way things are. I can't change it- even if I wanted to. I watch you. I see you. I hope you know I do believe in you- I love you. When I see tears on your cheeks, streaking like some porcelain beauty, some victorian soul, gauging at what is left of me, gauging at what the eye cannot see, I long to hold your hand, softly press a kiss to it and tell you all I have seen in you that you do not see. I would take you to my favourite spot, walk the whole way just to talk to you, I would tell you what I have been wanting to let you know- that no matter where I am, or what you do, or who we are, in our very souls, we are always one and the same. We are alike. Perhaps in spirit, personality, or maybe just in how we devote ourselves to spirituality, or God, but I know that I am yours if you will be mine. But you haven't been coming to me. You don't want to be mine yet. I know you think you do- but you're not ready for this. Neither am I. I have found myself trying to build what was left- to build a new. I have found I wanted to incorporate more of the old into my new life and therefore I am struggling to find my way to you- it will show some day but I will make time free. Free time for you. I promise you this. I fear some day, you may leave me entirely. Yet even when this happens, I'm but a cinder. I'm but a memory. A distant person you once knew. Distant eyes you once reflected upon, talked to, listened to, hoped for, wished and yearned. I'll not be the same because you won't either. We grow with one another. Tell me you love me. I need to know this. I need you to tell it straight to my face, to my memory, to my thought, to my soul, just think it. Think, say, breathe it. I will know when you do. Thank you for thinking of me today, I appreciate it.

You'll always be my true love, you know? ❤️

It's in his kiss, that's where it is. You can feel when I love you truly, baby, because I would kiss you like you've never felt before. I'd go as slow as you want, as sensual as I could ever be, as loving as I could try, I would do it for you. I know we don't know each other that well yet. We are new. But even if you know me for a long time, this feeling is new. We haven't been together before- not in other lives. I haven't loved you yet. This is new to me. I think we would fit together.... I am confused about it however. I'm not really sure what I want. I know, I am indecisive. But with you- it does feel right, it does feel... like I am a child again kissing his first crush. It feels this way- which is why I think it's important that we continue to communicate, about what you want, about what I want... it'll make this easier because I can't smell what is on your mind. I can sense your feelings, I am very empathic, but I don't know what you're thinking. And I have the feeling you're led by your thoughts, just as I am. We are horrible in listening to ourselves. Perhaps, I am better at giving you advice than I am for myself but in truth, it should be me who has to do the work and approach you, romance you, love you, not the other way around. You're so kind to me- this bamboozles the shit out of me because I am not technically seen as an approachable nice person, so your energy it really confuses me for that reason. Am I not repulsive? Do you not... want to run away from me? You're making my bad thoughts about myself resurface and dissolve all the same. When I think or look at you, even for a second, I just know that I am looking at something good. I know this is something to be cherished. Can I trust my own feeling however? I'm not too sure. I want you to know this. Just to make some clarification about where I am right now. I am not trying to push you away- nor do I want you gone AT ALL I need you and I want you by my side but I am just a torn up dunderhead. Forgive me?

"She's one of my favourite things." This is what I say when people ask about you. Hm, yes, I know. From me? You're surprised. I know some days you may think I don't know you, or don't like you, but I do, I like you a lot. You're my princess, in any fairytale that exists. And the divine to my subservient self. I'd worship you. Cherish you. Because, I know, that for you not to leave me, I have to step up and treat you well. I will be forthcoming, I will be consistent, and I will try to make your life as much of a priority as I will mine. It's not black and grey with me. It's quite clear with me. I want you to be mine. I need to marry you- some day or now. I do not care when. That's how serious I am. That's how real this feels for me. I don't need to figure this out by a 10 hour astrology research to compare my charts to yours. I don't need to figure out via a deity about what time you're going to call or text. I need to know just one thing- and that is that I can trust my feelings. I want you to trust yours. If you do- if you do feel for me, If you do cherish me, or even like me, or god above, if you even love me, if you could, that you won't break it hard on me. Do it gently. Tell me how you love me, and when you leave me, so I know it's easier. If you ever leave me, I would try to have you one more day. I really would. Not in spite or because I want some silly disgusting energy break up sex but because...I would just want to look at you, once more, see you, breathe you, just touch your hand perhaps, or even your hair, to just sit there and tell you nothing or a lot. But I wouldn't ever try to hurt you, I will never try to do this I just hope... perhaps... that you won't hurt me, all right? Can you do this for me? Can you do everything gently? (Except the sex, I don't need it to be gentle ok) but you get what I mean. My heart, my feelings, are much more tender than I can confess. I may look tough. I may be someone you think is tough- perhaps I am, maybe I am also that, but one word of you can silence me forever. Trust on that. So use your words well with me, it'll be better for both of us. Don't you think? I love you. ❤️

God speed your love to me. You thought this was going to be the romantic pile, didn't you? Hahahaha! Bitch please! I am your worst nightmare. Just kidding, I am just incapable of showing you the love you so desire and dream of. What is it with you and me? You like me obsessively. Trust me, your guides and I have been chatting away for a bit and you're.... well, let's just say, you're at wits end about me, aren't you darling? Hehe. I like when you're mad. Some days, I just think how lovely it would be if you'd be in my arms and I could just... have a peek at that lovely chest of yours. Too dirty? I understand. You think I'm a pervert. Honestly, darling, I do too. That's what I hide behind, mostly, truthfully, I'm disgusting myself sometimes, especially during those solo hours. You don't want to believe the things I've thought about you- oh my god. If my life's work and thoughts would ever get published, it would be the biggest event of all lifetime. The world would stop. The M25 would be in a traffic jam all fucking year- don't know why, but it would, wouldn't it? Say, I know you from somewhere... that's what I always say, I always begin with that. And then, I would transgress your interest and I would try and lure you into thinking of me. And when you're thinking of me, I am thinking of how you're hopelessly and desperately thinking of me and then I'll- you know, get creative thinking of you. Honey, what am I to you? Though? Like- can we be real? Am I your friend? Your lover? Your nemesis? Your teacher? Your mentor? What the fuck are we? I am so confused ! 🤣 You say things that literally bolder me off the side of the road and throw me right into the cut. Like can we pretend that for one day, you and I aren't you and I and then we can be delusional together in our own little world? You'd like that right? Well, I would too. I need to escape whatever the hell this is, or this life is, and then we can get coffee and a drink or two and you can tell me what we're going to do about this, about us, because I can't stop thinking how we are going to solve this or do this or just... how. Hm :) You look good. Just wanted to say that. Take some medicine when you feel bad, especially cramps. Take good care of yourself. I could write to you forever- know that. You can reach out to me.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

aita for calling out someone for being manipulative towards a trans friend? Names have been changed for privacy reasons and TLDR at the end because this is long.

I (24f) am cis but have had a lot of trans friends (binary, nonbinary, and neopronoun) throughout the years and am very supportive so i take this very seriously. So I met this girl my first year in college (we were 18 at the time) and we became friends. We're polar opposites, she talks a lot and I don't, she parties a lot and I like to do more sophisticated things, she's a typical extrovert basically, and I'm more introverted. Anne (24f) was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I don't know when, she just told me this years ago. I've seen tiktoks about bpd and researched Google about bpd a little so I know all about how they have fave persons and will "mimic" people in the friend group and become clingy, manipulate, etc. I've seen pics of her in high school, noticed that she was a theater kid, she said she was good at acting and even said she thinks her bpd helped with her acting although I'm not sure how, but she said she only joined the theater club because a boy she had a crush on was in theater. That should've been my first red flag but I was naive. She has a degree in something else (not theater) because our second year in college her favorite character in a TV show did a certain job, she got interested in that, and now she also does that as a living. She doesn't talk about her bpd, she's only mentioned it a handful of times. I can count on one hand how many times. And I get it because she said someone once told her people with bpd should be sterilized and not be allowed near children. Which is really messed up and I hate that someone said that.

However on with the situation. One of our friends Mike (25m) is a trans man. We met him four years ago. He's very handsome, broody, introverted, intelligent, great listener, very accepting and understanding, similar to me but opposite to her. Now we didn't know he was trans until two years ago, because I asked him on a date and he turned me down, and when I asked why he told me that he was mostly T4T and only viewed me as a friend. We were like woah you're trans, okay that's cool, etc. He explained that he was lucky enough to get on puberty blockers and transition young etc which is why he passes. I said okay I'm not trans and you're mostly T4T fair enough.

Well last year Anne suddenly tells us that she is trans too. She says she's bigender. She says she is okay with either she her or he him because she feels like a man and a woman at the same time. Some days she's a woman, some days she's a man, and some days she's both, according to her. She says she does not like they them pronouns. Suddenly her and Mike are spending all this extra time together. Last month he confided in me that he thinks he's in love with her, after years of him only seeing her as a friend, and then they started officially dating.

Here's the problem: she has not changed her outward appearance, her name, started any kind of medical stuff, joined any groups, bought a binder etc. We all continue to call her she and her because she fully presents as female and doesn't have a problem with it. Also she's very effeminate in body language, the way she talks, etc. I know technically I could call her a he or a him, too, but she never asks me to or corrects people when they call her she because well technically she is a she too. Mike is the only one who uses he and him pronouns with her as often as she and her, but she has never thanked him. It really feels like she's saying she's trans and then going about her life exactly as a cis woman simply to convince Mike to date her.

First off, Anne and Mike are NOT compatible. She likes to party, smoke weed, talks a lot, I'm not sure how she graduated with such good grades or why she does so well in her job because she is honestly a LOT to handle and I'm saying that as nice as possible. Mike would never touch weed or go to clubs and he says he would be fine staying home while she does those things but how could you trust someone to party while high and not hook up with others? I've seen her make out with five people in one night at a frat party. They also had wildly different childhoods, such as she grew up in a conservative community and doesn't speak to her family, and he grew up in a liberal area and is close with his family. But more importantly she has a history of joining theater because she had a crush on someone in theater (plus she admits she is good at acting, so maybe she is acting now?) and getting a degree and job in a field because a favorite fictional character did that and now this? It feels like she was attracted to him, found out he usually dates other trans people, and found a way to continue being cis but claim to be trans without having to do anything trans related, basically mimicing her favorite person. As soon as they met they hit it off, or should I say she clung to him and pretended to have the same likes and dislikes whenever they were alone I assume.

It sounds terrible I know, which is why I discussed this with a group chat first that neither of them are in, and the group chat not only agreed that she is far too "obnoxious" for him (those were NOT my words!) but that she is faking being trans in an attempt to make him fall in love with her (which seems to be working.) I would NEVER have gone further without making sure with them first. So then a few of the people in my group chat and I held an intervention with Anne alone. The six of us (the others don't live close enough to come) met up with Anne at her place and told her what she was doing was wrong and gross and that she needed to get help for her bpd and to stop catfishing Mike. She didn't take well to what was said, which I anticipated, but she went crazy. She was screaming at us, insulting us, sobbing while yelling etc, literally said if we ever contacted her again she would call the cops, so we left.

I immediately called Mike before she could and asked him to meet me at a restaurant nearby and that it was very important. Since Mike doesn't know anyone in the group chat I went alone and I explained EVERYTHING before she could gaslight and manipulate him even further. He left, did not finish or pay for his food. I messaged him several times, but a few hours later he texted me to never to speak to him again, and then blocked me on everything. I showed up to his house and Anne was there. Mike said if I ever contacted him again he would get a restraining order on me so I left. I've discussed this with the group chat and now suddenly half of them changed their mind and don't want to talk about it anymore. Several of them left the group chat. Not only that but several of my friends who know either Mike or Anne or both have blocked me on everything. When I've tried to contact these friends through other means and explain everything, they either didn't respond or said for me never to contact them again because I was being transphobic. Listen I know under NORMAL circumstances you shouldn't question when someone comes out but this is NOT a normal situation, and now I am concerned Anne is unsafe for Mike but also an unsafe person to know, as she literally is trying to destroy my life because I called her out on some seriously messed up and abusive behavior.

TLDR am I the asshole for trying to protect my trans friend from a potential stalker?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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bakugoushotwife · 4 months

Text

born sinner (part one)

pairing: crime boss!suguru geto x fem!surgeon!reader series content: blood, gore, realistic descriptions of surgery but like as accurate as someone with access to google has, angst, slow-burn, eventual smut, anxiety as a heavy theme, no curses!au, violence, guns, gang mentions and typical violence, religious imagery, etc. words: 8.5k a/n: omg omg happy new year! the gojo writer takes on suguru geto!! he's so challenging for me in the best of ways and i hope that his characterization is at least tolerable LMFAO!! i got this amazing idea from a gorgeously detailed outline from @antizenin who trusted me to bring her outline to life. i hope you love it!! part two //

the lights are entirely too bright in the meeting hall. it’s nothing compared to the lights in the OR that illuminate the vessels of a heart as you slice into it—finding the clot that caused the fourty-one year old mother of two to collapse in the middle of making breakfast. you saved her life, you save lives. you’re a cardiothoracic surgeon–and a top one at that, though you spent your residency flirting with general and neurosurgery, you ultimately landed on the heart of it all–literally. it was riveting work. it was satisfying work. you got to play god, holding the lives of everyone that came through the hospital doors in your hands. you got to be the one to repair the tear in their aorta, the one to physically pump their heart with your own grip. it was thrilling. until it wasn’t. until you couldn’t stop the bleeding or make the heart beat again. until being god of the emergency room meant sending some people to the afterlife, and realizing that you are no god. you’re just a woman with a degree and a scalpel and a crippling fear that you don’t know what you’re really doing at all.

that’s what got you here. the clock in front of you is just about the only thing to look at in this section of the hospital. the board meets here—the people that convene to discuss fates. it’s almost comically just that the long hallway before the meeting room was barren and hopeless–only the clock’s hands to tick loudly by in mock of you. 7:55 am. just five more minutes until you went from the god above it all to a simple beggar praying to be spared. you were no different from those you operated on. you’re suddenly very aware of how scratchy and hard your chair is, making you adjust and readjust to try to find some semblance of comfort in the last five minutes before judgment day. as a surgeon, you know just how out of whack your vitals are. as someone with a diazepam prescription, you know exactly what’s causing it, regardless of the MD at the end of your last name. shit, you forgot to take your pills again this morning—

there’s a faint sound of heels clicking against the cold tile floor in conjunction with the loud clunk, clunk, ding dong ding! of the clock that signals the top of the hour. it’s time. the secretary calls your name as if you’re not the only person waiting out here, and you nod without meeting her eyes. you know without lifting your gaze that hers is judgmental–like everyone’s lately.

the problem with being god is that you can’t make mistakes without feeling the wrath of the people that once loved you and championed your name.

millions of thoughts race inside your head simultaneously: if you can’t handle the hardening stare of a measly secretary, how on earth would you be able to function under the eyes of the council, the real gods amongst men. they have the authority to revoke your license if you don’t figure out how to answer to them. the one case, the one incident, the one person’s life that ended because of your inability to handle such racing thoughts drives you to clutch at your chest now as you rise from your chair, back aching.

“right this way.” she says without another glance, and you’re thankful for that reprieve. she turns, loud heels click clacking their way back down the hall at the same pace of your hammering heart. you love being a surgeon. you can’t lose that. you have to fight for it. saving lives is important to you! you just have to convey this. it’s not hard. swallow your fear and finally fight for something you want, put one foot in front of the other, you tell yourself. breathe in and breathe out—you have to get your sinus rhythm back to normal if you have any hope of getting through this. but it’s so hard when all your senses lie to you like this, the clock’s ticks still rattling across your brain—the long and dark hallway only stretching to be longer and darker before you. you know it’s impossible–just your mind playing tricks. or, more aptly, part of you knows that. but the other part starts to break out in a cold sweat once you finally approach the door. on the other side of the heavy oak were the group of people who would decide what your life was worth: do you get to stay a god amongst men, or will you be cast out like the devil himself?

you can hear the different voices speaking in low whispers before the secretary has even pushed into the room. you know they must be speaking about you from the way their eyes dart all over your timid form in front of them as they shuffle their papers—reports of every mistake and triumph you’ve ever had laid out in front of them, reducing you to a datapoint. it’s a medical license hearing, but you feel like a freshly hit opossum standing before the vultures just waiting to pick your bones clean. maybe being roadkill was more freeing than this.

this room is much darker than the lobby you waited in, dimly lit by reading lamps positioned to the right of each panelist–five total. three men and two women would decide if your mistake was enough to ruin your career. their desk towered above you, so much so you had to tilt your chin back to be able to take in their disgruntled, disappointed, and disapproving stares. your saliva feels like liquid cement when you go to swallow it down—though it tastes like bile.

“good morning doctor.” the man on the furthest right says. he has the kindest eyes of them all, though your brain catches his deception. he’s just acting. the other panelists give you tight lipped smiles of greeting and head nods of acknowledgement. you clear your throat a little and give them a bow.

“good morning, board of internal medicine. i’ve…prepared a statement?” you clench your jaw at the shakiness you can hear in your voice. it’s the older of the two women that nod at you this time.

“you may present it.” she says, a drawn-on eyebrow raised expectantly. you swallow down that bile-cement flavored spit again, training your eyes on a hairline crack in the tile under your toe. it’s fitting. as time passes, this crack will widen and cause that tile to erode and crumble away. this meeting could be the crack in your foundation. the decision made here today could be the first domino of events to ruin the picture perfect life you’ve carefully put into place.

“..hiroshi nakamura entered the emergency room on november twenty-third at 4:57 pm. he was suffering from an aortic aneurysm. as many of you are former surgeons yourselves, i know you’re familiar with the diagnosis. many of these go unnoticed. symptomatic pain is brushed off, and many times it’s too late to save them, the silent killer.” you shift your weight, doing your best to maintain eye contact despite the haunting memory. “nakamura-san was a patient of mine previously. he was diagnosed with arteriosclerosis three years prior, the exact date escapes me. it was in the summertime. july maybe. later that day i performed an endarterectomy to reduce the atheromatous plaque in his carotid artery. we kept him for the next three days for observation, his vitals improved and he was discharged with instructions to receive regular checkups. when he was brought back in…i knew immediately that the buildup must have returned, making it harder for blood to travel until it turned into a clot. when i opened him up, his pressure started dropping. he had an aortic dissection, which i’ve run into many times. but the size of nakamura-san’s was significant. i hesitated, deciding between a graft or a stent for treatment. i took too long to choose, and nakamura-san…bled out on the operating table.” you grimace, looking down at that cracked tile again. the line was shaped like a lightning bolt, its jagged curve leading straight under your shoe. you can feel your chest tighten, so you close your eyes and try to push back against the wave of emotion sitting in your throat. “i had to tell nakamura-san’s family what happened. his wife of forty years, his thirty-four year old son, thirty year old daughter, and twenty-eight year old son as well as his young grandchildren. i’ll never forget what my mistake has done to their lives, and i believe it is punishment enough.”

you step back once you’ve finished speaking, heart still hammering away in your chest. the members of the board nod, seemingly unaffected by your words. the man in the middle of the massive mahogany table picks up his stack of papers, licking his forefinger before flipping through them. “how long have you been prescribed diazepam, doctor?”

your blood stills. your anxiety was clearly well documented, and you knew it would be on their list of questions. “since i was a teenager, sixteen i believe.”

he hums, eyes focused on the paper before him. “and how would you say it helps you manage your generalized anxiety disorder?”

you would do anything for that ticking clock right about now, for this room is so quiet you swore they could hear your thoughts. “it helps considerably. i’ve stayed on it for over ten years now.”

“your prescription history is spotty. were you trying alternative therapies?” the younger woman asks, manicured red nails clutching your entire life between them via vulturous paper reports.

you open your mouth to answer–no, argue–but realize that won’t help you anymore than the truth will. “no. i…had not.”

she raises her brow just like the other woman did, except her eyebrow was real and also well taken care of. “so what happened? it seems like you’ve forgotten to pick up your medicine three times this year—one of which was during nakamura-san’s surgery?” you are a cardiothoracic surgeon, one that was considered proficient enough to pick her specialty. you are no fool. you can see the trap she’s laid before you even unmedicated.

this is the end. all because of your busy schedule and long hours at the hospital. sometimes you missed pharmacy hours, other times you just forgot about it altogether, mind racing with diagnoses and cases that wait for you the next day. but that won’t matter now, you can feel it before you even answer. they knew what they were going to do before you ever walked in this room. “my business hours are usually reserved for saving lives at this hospital. sometimes i’m not able to make it to pickup.”

“how long until your death toll matches that of your successes, doctor?” the final man at the left asks, punctuating their line of questioning. he shuffles the edges of his papers against the flat top he sits behind. “i think our decision has been reached. you’re no longer licensed to operate in this hospital or any other, effective immediately. take your medicine.”

he has his doubts, but he supposes that is his nature. it feels strange to organize a meeting between two warring sides, hoping for a somewhat amicable and fortuitous outcome. hope is a foreign concept in this world, in suguru geto’s reality. he runs the west side of tokyo—keeping businesses running and funding local projects as well as controlling the streets with his biggest means of profit—guns for hire. he was a local historic monument. a ghost–everyone knew of him but pretended not to. everyone from bar owners to bakeries, lawyers and school teachers alike all under his influence, his pulse on the town. that’s how he knew the rival eastside head planned to make a move on his territory, and he’s been able to orchestrate a negotiation between them based on the opinion of his mentor and right hand man.

traditionally, suguru would eliminate his problem at the source. there’s no need to play politics when you make your own rules. but he trusts wholly in his sacred few, the ones who have been with him since the beginning of his reign, and even before then. suguru’s best friend, satoru gojo was his best assassin and loudest mouth. choso kamo was a younger pup, but loyal and hardworking—very protective. and then there was toji fushiguro, the most valued of all. he’s shown suguru the ropes of this industry while still respecting and protecting him. geto entrusts his life to toji. if the man believes a meeting would be wise, then they’ll have the meeting.

besides, there was no arguing with his logic. if they were able to pull this off, then his men will have free reign in the east, able to expand their territory into shinjuku, and have a working alliance with their only competition. so why was he having second thoughts? he blames satoru and his creepy blue eyes staring at him in the mirror he’s checking himself over in.

“do you not trust me?” he asks the other man, tugging the top half of his too-long black hair into a neat knot. it reveals the long dragon tattoo that creeps up his neck, eyes glowing with anger at whoever looked. his own golden eyes flicker with unease as they survey the only person in the room. suguru hated how opinionated satoru could be at times, and valued it in others. though he usually didn’t know which way he felt until after the fact.

the arctic-haired boy scoffed, kicking himself into stride from his previous position leaning against the wall. “oh i trust you. i just think it’s weird. i mean–toji’s so gung-ho, let’s slaughter ‘em all, and now we’re supposed to believe he’s become a diplomat?”

“i didn’t know you knew what diplomat meant.” suguru comments drily, sidestepping his friend’s critique of their teacher.

satoru shoves his round sunglasses back up his nose to conceal his eye roll. suguru was technically his boss—though he could get away with more than most. “hey, you asked. i just…have a bad feeling about this.” he shrugs–a knock at geto’s door causing both men to go on high alert immediately. satoru reaches for his weapon, always expecting an ambush. such is this way of life.

“geto–sama, the car is ready.” the driver says from the other side of the wood, and satoru relaxes at the realization that it was just ijichi–a man so weak and cowardly that an ambush at his hands would be impossible. suguru releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding onto. he fastens the final button on his shirt, glancing over himself in the mirror once again. he wanted to appear polished and professional in his all black attire—and it worked. he seemed larger than life and as intimidating as ever.

“perfect. i should get going.” he nods to his best friend–who, due to his abrasive and blunt nature, will not be attending this meeting. suguru adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, strapping his guns to his torso and giving satoru a tight lipped smile. the latter gets the door for him, mockingly saluting.

“i’ll hold down the fort until you get back, boss!” he chirps, nodding to ijichi before making his way back to the data room.

toji meets them in the car. it’s a bulletproof black bronco, a fitting vehicle to cart around a high-profile crime boss. suguru’s confidence is bolstered at the sight of his most trusted companion, and he genuinely smiles as he ducks into the backseat with him.

“hey kid, big day.” the older man says gruffly, his gravelly voice making it sound like he were sixty years his senior instead of a mere fifteen. suguru was no child, and didn’t appear to be one either. the twenty-eight year old man towered over six feet, thick with muscle and riddled with scars of experience, but to toji—suguru was a helpless kitten.

suguru hums, eyes already scanning for potential danger as the car rolls out of the garage. “big day indeed. you’ve spoken to him already this morning?”

toji claps his broad hand down on suguru’s even broader shoulder, chuckling. “we wouldn’t be headin’ out if i hadn’t. sukuna’s ready for us.” he assures, noting how strong and steady suguru looked. toji was proud, geto has grown quite bit from the scrappy little boy he once was. if he was nervous, he was keeping that close to his chest.

“good. i think he’ll find my proposal beneficial for us both.” he nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. sukuna’s crew mostly pushed petty crime and even pettier drugs—suguru’s bunch could elevate their product and offer more riches for the notoriously greedy ‘cursed king’ ryomen sukuna.

toji snorts a little, amused by his arrogance. “let’s hope so.” he nods, checking the rearview and windows before they fall into silence.

the ride is smooth due to the expensive tires and ijichi’s careful nature, leaving geto plenty of peace and quiet to brainstorm all of the ways this could go down. he’s doing a genuine good for japan–sure, he has to break a few laws to do it, but the people of tokyo—well, his half anyway—are prospering. he hopes that even the arrogant man that ryomen is can see what banding together would do for them both. then, it could be just a matter of time before he can branch out into the rest of japan.

there’s that word again. hope. he feels silly each time he catches himself using it. it’s akin to faith to him. something ideal in entirety, hardly true to the touch. he only believes in what he can see–things like optimism and god are lost on him, they are only fantasies.

“ijichi! watch the right side—” toji commands gruffly, sitting up straighter in his seat to get a better look. suguru is grounded with a shot of adrenaline, leaning over to peer at the black suv hot on their tails. this highway is busy—civilians in their own cars without a clue in the world littered all over the roads at various speeds. it could be nothing–except geto knows better than to hope that the tinted windows on the car were meant to block out the sun instead of concealing identities. the large suv switches into the left lane, speeding up to catch them. “idiot! step on it!” he calls, and suguru draws one of his guns to be prepared ahead of time, a lesson he learned from the man sitting to his right.

“is it one of sukuna’s?” he asks aloud, cocking his .45 as the first shots ring out from the vehicle beside them. they bounce right off his armored car, but one knicks the tire. geto curses under his breath, cracking the window enough to pop off a few returning shots of his own. the cadillac is impenetrable too–though he had hoped to flatten one of their tires in return or even get one under the hood.

ijichi starts to lose control on the vehicle as the tire blows—just the metal rim scraping against the concrete with a deafening hiss. the bronco starts to fishtail, the car beside them only furthering the inevitable by nudging the rear quarter panel into the median ahead. “i’m losing it! we’re gonna flip!” ijichi cries out in panic, prompting suguru’s eyes to widen.

there’s a loud crunch of metal on concrete before they’re airborne. geto feels a sense of finality wash over him as they turn, his seatbelt the only thing keeping him from breaking his neck. there’s another gross sounding scrape of the driver’s side scraping on the road briefly before they rotate again—heartbeat erratic. this is it. all of his hard work would end in a fiery car accident. he can’t even feel it as his head bounces off the window, only thinking about how satoru was right. he should have appreciated his friend more—he’s probably the only person who will mourn him when he’s gone. the roof caves in when they fall onto it this time, shrapnel scratching his face and making him realize they had stopped. they’re on their back–he’s hanging upside down, but he’s alive. he can smell oil and gas and the inevitable smell of fire, so his numb fingers fumble for the seatbelt’s release button. the car alarms are going off—and he knows if he doesn’t get out soon, the relief of being alive won’t even have time to sink in before it’s ripped away again. he looks around the car—toji’s door ripped off in the accident and his body nowhere to be seen.

“goddammit–” he growls, clicking the button on his seatbelt over and over, unable to get free. there’s a million alarms going off—the car’s sensors, the airbags, the bitter hum of gunshots ringing in his ears still, maybe even faint police sirens heading this way. none as loud as the one in his head telling him that he had to get out soon–fighting until the button finally releases him and he lands with a thud on the sunroof portion of the now mangled bronco. he crawls toward the only exit, toji’s exit, grimacing at the sickening sound of crunching glass digging into his side as he drags himself through it. he thought dying would be more peaceful—that he would be ready for it, even if he hadn’t finished his work yet. in this business, there is no tomorrow, yet he found himself fighting for one. this wouldn’t be the end of him, some sort of voice in the back of his head told him so. it wasn’t his own, in fact he didn’t recognize it—but it made him take the pain and push forward, out of the car and onto the street beside.

the sunset would be prettier under better circumstances, but he’s grateful to see it irregardless. his head hurts, and he can’t look around as fast as he wants to without getting dizzy, that ringing deafening his senses. he sees the cadillac–still on the scene– with a group of men huddled outside of it talking.

he sputters out a cough, clearing his lungs of some of the debris he’s inhaled. it catches their attention—and all geto can process is a pair of dark boots stomping over rubber scraps and glass shards until they’re inches from his face and the legs attached are squatting down to get a better look at him.

“eh, shoulda known you’d survive it if i did.” he grumbles, a voice so unmistakable suguru’s blood stills in his veins. the sole of the man’s boot shoves into suguru’s shoulder, kicking him to his back. “you trust too much kid. why would sukuna negotiate when he could just take from you instead? shame. you coulda been great.” he says, fumbling behind his back for a 9mm piece, the sobering click of the safety and familiar cock of the gun clearing out all the other noises. geto’s too devastated to speak—though he knows there’s nothing he could say. he lived through the accident just to die with the truth: his mentor betrayed him.

bang!

getting shot doesn’t feel like you think it does. it’s white hot and instant, a blistering intensity that tells you you're dying. suguru’s hand flies to cover the damage to his chest, eyes wide in disbelief still. he must have already died and gone to hell. he can’t hear anything now but the ringing of the gun and toji’s sigh.

“meh–just to be sure.” toji yawns, scratching his head with the barrel before turning it back to suguru’s chest.

bang!

it hurts to breathe, but he has to gasp for air either way—bleeding out on the pavement below. the ringing in his ears is replaced by tires spinning out—signifying that the rival crew had left before the cops could arrive. suguru holds his crimson soaked hand up above his face, clenching his jaw. the pain was hitting him in waves, the clawing feeling of glass embedded in his skin mixed with the burn of being shot, the inability to take a deep breath and his growing weakness, he really was dying this time.

no.

that voice again. he’s annoyed by it, but intrigued. why? why not give up? he asks himself, coughing despite the excruciating pain it puts him in and the wetness that seeps out of his mouth—something even he knows is blood.

there’s so much life to live. fight. revenge, love. there’s more for you.

he stares up at the pale outline of the moon hanging in the sky, growing brighter as the sky darkened. revenge. that was something he’d like to see. he didn’t know about the rest of it–but was confused by this…guardian angel of his. is this god? he was a born sinner—far away from anything holy. this must be an imagination of his—yet it was motivating enough to get him to move again. they wrecked just outside of harajuku. he knew of a dive bar under his business portfolio that he could try to get to–he could hang on until satoru found him and got him to the hospital, though that was a whole new set of problems. he had to get moving, the ringing of sirens getting closer by the second.

his vision is blackening and he doesn’t even know how close he is to the bar. his breathing is ragged, everything screaming and aching, body telling him to give up but that voice urging him to keep going. night has settled in fully by now, and he’s thankful for that cover. this area of town is avoided by anyone with good intentions, hence its emptiness at this hour. it couldn’t be too late, 8 pm at the latest, but the only traffic moving through this district are giggly college students and no good drug pushers meeting up with customers in the dark. but it’s reassuring to him, it means he’s getting closer. that’s when the reminiscing hits him. he’s able to see some bright flashing lights—a telltale sign that the bar was just ahead. the shelter of the alleyway gives him some reprieve. maybe if he stops just stopped for a second to catch his breath he’d be able to get to his feet and walk inside, or just getting a phone call in would be enough to save him. he thinks about satoru, how he’d come running as soon as he picked up the phone all while cursing him out for not listening to his warnings sooner. he feels embarrassed that the only person he has to think about is his sarcastic best friend, left to wonder if things would be better or worse if he had a family to think about instead. the last thing he thinks about is that mysterious voice calling out to him to stay awake—but his body is done fighting. all is black.

what better way to end the worst day of your life than getting shitty at the shittiest bar in town? there were probably lots of better options, like conserving your money since you didn’t know where your next source of income would stream from—but that was tomorrow’s problem. tonight’s problem was drinking your sorrows away next to the attractive man buying all your drinks. he was tall and his hair was spiky to look at but you knew it would be soft to the touch–or maybe that’s the vodka talking. his smile was more akin to a smirk rather than a genuine grin. he was trouble. but trouble was buying, so you’d keep batting you lashes and whining about your sorrows so the shots kept coming. the top-shelf vodka the man offers each time is working to its desired effect, numbing the ache in your heart and the bickering thoughts in your brain. it almost cloaks the mildew scent in the air—rose-colored glasses making the nasty blue carpet and hideous wood paneled walls of the bar look like a dream come true. you finally feel light. you almost forget about the man eyeing you like a predator in wait to your left, consciousness floating high in the clouds.

you used to hate drinking. as a surgeon, you need a clear mind at all times. who knew when you’d be called in for an emergency case. well, needed. plus, you’ve always been an angry drunk, overly emotional and yelling constantly. it wasn’t a pleasant sight. not to mention the hangovers, ugh—your long-term psyche had always beaten out the short-term pleasure, but tonight you owed it to yourself to feel as bas as possible tomorrow. that’s why the clouds clear—your light-hearted joy short-lived as the bartender slides you another shot before muttering.

“that’s your last one, doctor.” he tilts his head down, used to serving your fellow surgeon friends when you did have a well-timed night off, though he’s never seen you drunk as the most responsible member of your group, you were always designated driver. not anymore, you’d be lucky to get a text back from any of them now that you were disbarred. maybe that’s what actually makes you mad instead of being cut off. it’s the realization of all the things you’ve really lost–-including the right to drown your sorrows out with a swollen liver.

“what the fuck?? and i know ya heard me talkin’...not a doctor anymore!! so let me have my vodka, i deserve it!” you whine, stretching your upper body over the scratched and chipped wooden bar keeping you from jumping across at his dumb stupid fat neck—

“no can do, miss. you’re over served as is, ‘s my job on the line.” he shakes his head, eyeing the man next to you to get you under control, assuming he knew you better than a few hours of tipsy talking. you scoff at his insinuations–both that you’re too drunk to handle yourself and that this wallet has any sway over your motor-mouth.

“don’t look at him—fucking look at me! i’ll kick your goddamn ass, you know that?” you’re fuming. this is the proverbial straw that broke the hypothetical camel’s back. after the day you’ve had, you’re surprised it took this much to get you this rowdy. how much was one person meant to take anyways? venting out your anger would help you plenty, you think to yourself as you lift your knee up, prepared to crawl over that wooden plank saving that man’s life.

“security!! come get ‘er. she’s wasted.” he scoffs, taking your shot away and making your blood boil even more. “they’ll get an uber for ya. take it easy, doc.” he shakes his head, making you feel remarkably judged all of a sudden, every eye in the place was on you as a guard even bigger than the man next to you drags you off the bar as carefully as he can. you don’t make it easy, kicking and screaming out despite the burning sensation in your cheeks.

“you’re scared of a girl? that’s fucking embarrassing!” you bellow to cloak your own, getting tossed on your feet gently— outside of the dingy building.

“come on, little lady. let’s get you a ride home.” the security guard says, another one of them making their way outside as some sort of backup–like you were some genuine threat. you scoff, folding your arms.

“fuck off—don’t need your shitty help, i’ll get home on my own!” you kick his shin, throwing your hair over your shoulder before marching off into the dead of night.

in one of the worst parts of town.

the cold shocks you awake, the fear putting you on edge and pushing back the drunkenness that fought so hard to claim you. every rustle of the bushes, each twig snapping has your head on a swivel. you just need to make it to your car, though it was daytime when you foolishly parked it a few doors down to avoid the traffic of drunk people leaving later in the evening. you’ve already made half the distance, the connecting alleyway just up ahead.

you don’t make it two hundred feet before everything hits you again—and you’re bawling at your own stupidity. you should have made time to pick up your pills. you wouldn’t have to be worried about being kidnapped or murdered in the middle of the night if you had just taken your medicine. your life if over—and you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. you’re a mess. you’re nearly gasping for breath already—the dark alley mocks you with long shadows reflecting from the moon and stray cats that hop out of the dumpster just to make you fear the worst. you wipe at your cheeks, desperately sniffling to try to regain your senses, eyes aching from the downpour. you’re constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure you’re not being followed, entirely too focused on what’s behind you to notice the log in front of you—you’re sent flying over it and towards the pavement. luckily you take the impact on your shoulder, nothing more than a shocked, “ow–” leaving your lips before you realize you’re not hurt at all thanks to your coat absorbing the brunt of it.

it’s just another strike of your famous luck then, something annoying enough to inconvenience you on a day chock full of them, but not enough to take you down. you push to your hands and knees, looking back towards the offending log—only to realize it’s breathing and has long dark hair strewn about its head. you gasp–the fog muddying up your senses clearing instantly at the realization that this was no log, but some severely injured man! you can hear his struggling breaths, springing into action immediately. it’s nearly second nature to you as you push his hair out of his face and away from his neck. it’s much too dark for you to make out specifics–but his chin shines with something you can only imagine is blood, the same wet liquid pooling in front of his torso, the man laying on his side in an almost fetal position.

“sir–can you hear me?” you try, placing your fingers where his heartbeat should be. it’s weak and much too slow, but it’s there. you can save him. “sir what happened to you? what’s your name?” you ask loudly, trying to get him to wake up. you groan when he doesn’t respond, blindly fumbling around for the wounds. your heart is racing, any slowness from the alcohol was killed by the adrenaline consuming you now. you gasp out again when you feel glass shards and bullet holes, a good fifteen minutes away from home even if you step on it. you’re not sure if this man has fifteen minutes left in him—the reasonable part of your brain telling you to call the emergency line to get him helped. though, they’d take just as long to show up despite how serious his wounds are. “you’re gonna have to help me a little, big guy.” you groan even louder, trying to put him on his back. it would jostle him less and was the only shot you had at getting a man of his size back to your vehicle on your own.

you swear you hear him chuckle, but perhaps you were still a bit tipsy. you grab his hands, trying to be careful of the one riddled with glass, situating them in your own at the best leverage point. you’re strong—you can do this. you need to feel useful again–and this man needs to be saved. he’s so heavy, nothing but dead weight as you tug him along behind you. you have to bend a little and pray that your legs can make it to your car, just a final push to get to safety.

you’re grateful when you see your mom-mobile waiting for you. this was your ambulance, and you were running out of time and the strength to keep pulling, gnawing nervously on your lip. what if he died anyway? what if you couldn’t save him at all, and were only chasing highs you’d never feel again?

no. you’re skilled. if you couldn’t save this man then… the truth was that no one could. so determination overrides your anxiety for the time being, and you pop the trunk of your sporty suv, looking down at the man with a heart sigh. “okay–i can do it. what are ya, 200, 220?” you muse, squatting down and fixing him over your shoulders as best you could—a fireman’s carry of sorts. your hips and thighs should support you more than your exhausted arms, so you heave up with a strangled grunt. you throw him in a little harder than intended, grimacing. “sorry!” you huff, circling to your driver’s side. at least he’s in, even if your arms are jello and you know you’ll have to get him in the house somehow. you aren’t even thinking about how his blood will stain your tan interior—the rush of saving a life quieting any background noise in your mind. “you gotta hang in there. hang in there, please.” you mumble, weaving through traffic.

you back up as close to your garage as possible, trying to think ahead for anything that could make this easier on yourself. you throw the car in park, hurrying to get him out of the back. he’s running out of time, and a surgical god you may be–but there’s only so many miracles you can call in. you get him in the same hold from earlier yet you let his feet touch the ground, muscles burning at the exercise. you have to breathe in short bursts, crushed by his heaviness, adrenaline helping you accomplish something you normally wouldn’t be capable of. you stumble with him, still half dragging him. it’s a battle you’re worried you might lose, but you get him on your dining room table, splayed out like a gurney. then you’re prepping your OR, getting the lights on, all the tools and dressings you would need, and most importantly—scrubbing in. infection would kill him if you weren’t careful now.

“you stumbled into the right hands, mister. or well…i guess i stumbled over you–but you get the point.” you roll your eyes at yourself and glove up, stretching the vinyl over your fingers and flexing them, all part of your pre-op routine. you get your first good look at him then. he’s terribly hurt, it really is even worse than you thought. bullet holes and all this blunt trauma–he must have endured something horrific. but beneath all the bruising marring his olive skin, you can tell that he’s a beautiful man. his inky hair gleams under your bright dining room lights, somehow looking silky despite the tangles bunched up throughout the mane. you sigh, turning your attention to the blood soaked shirt he had on–two perfectly round entrance piercing his front, but no exit wounds. in his case, it was probably saving his life, those bullets possibly lodged in important arteries—scary, but better than bleeding out. he’s already lost quite a bit of blood–and it’s not like you have any history on him to know what type he is. there’s no time to worry about tests–you’d have to get your emergency stash of o negative. it was universal–your own blood that you kept on hand in case of the worst. it looks like this is it. you flawlessly install the iv, watching the slow stream shoot through the clear iv catheter and into his body. it helps with his paleness after a few minutes, and you smile in relief. this was a good sign. you rip his shirt with the last remaining strength you’ve got left, buttons flying to expose extremely bruised ribs and those gaping bullet wounds. “this isn’t gonna feel great, i’m sorry.” you grab your cheap bottle of house vodka, taking another shot from it to steady your nerves before pouring a decent amount over his chest. “i have to get in here—i’m happy you can’t feel it–now, anyway.” you take a deep breath and reach for your scalpel. you decide to perform a sternotomy—cutting between his breast plate to the web of arteries beneath. “i can see the bullets. you’re gonna make it.” you whisper, more encouragement for yourself than for him. your retractors keep his chest open for you wide enough for you to get your forceps in, aiming to pull out a bullet out of a vein close to his heart. “it missed the aorta. you’re actually really lucky.” you chuckle humorlessly.

you wedge your forceps in and take a deep breath. it’s not the aorta, but it will spew blood anyway. “not my preferred method of grafting—no catheters here but. i gotta fix it somehow.” you growl a little in annoyance. you have to squint and move slowly, but you’re able to repair the first leak with a shifty little graft. you’re onto the next one, dropping the offending metal into a bowl—complete with a little clink. “we’ll get you to the hospital just to check my work, yeah?” you sigh, hoping that this would be good enough to save his life. your hands steady over the second bullet, and you repeat the same motions as before. you’re relieved at the sight of his heart literally beating underneath your working hands, knowing that he’s still fighting for his life. you remove the second one and get out of his body—sewing up his chest, letting the blood bag refill his own supply until the bag is drained. you push some saline to clean out the line before hanging a bag of morphine, the pain this mystery man would wake up to would be excruciating.

once you’re done with the intense life-saving measures, you sit in a chair to pluck the glass from his skin and apply ointments to the road rash on his face and arms. it takes another hour or so of work, but you don’t mind. it’s strangely relaxing to feel like you’re doing your job, and it’s so rewarding when you check his pulse every ten minutes to find it getting stronger and stronger. you hate that you hadn’t invested in a stat monitor, having to check his blood pressure the old fashioned way, but that looked like it was perking up too. you grin, proud of yourself. losing your license didn’t mean you lost your touch. you decide to get the glass and rubble out of his hair, pulling it back away from his face for a second time tonight. you take another lengthy look at the man you’ve saved, still grimacing at the ugly bruises and scrapes when something else catches your eye. the man had several tattoos that seemed unremarkable at first, different dark lines tangling into patterns you didn’t recognize. but the dragon creeping from his collarbone to peek over the collar of his shirt—it’s a yakuza trademark. this man wasn’t a poor soul caught up in a tragic accident—this was a dangerous man. you just saved the life of a war-monger, countless lives ended due to his line of work. part of you wants to open his chest back up and make your grafts fail—but the other part of you wants to feel the success course through your veins when he wakes up. besides, what makes a surgeon and what makes a gang lackey? is it a good childhood? morals? options? who’s to say this man had killed anyone? god knows you wouldn’t want to be judged based off of a few sneak peeks. you sigh, piddling off to your room to get him some new clothes.

it’s invasive, changing a stranger. but you’re at fifth base already right? saving his life gave you a get out of jail free card, even if he was in the most dangerous crime syndicate in japan. you get his matted jeans off, making yourself look up at the ceiling in modesty and respect. you shimmy the plaid pajama pants up his body–thankful that your ex never came back for his stuff. you decide against wrestling a shirt around all the bandages on his arms and chest—knowing you could hurt him just as much as you’ve helped. you decide to try your luck one last time, pushing your table the short distance to your living room to let him rest on something more comfortable than the cold marble slab. it’s an easy shove to get him onto the couch, and you finally take a deep breath and sigh it all out. success is sweet–surgery is exhausting. you pull a little blanket over him, setting hourly alarms to check on your patient until he wakes.

he wakes up to the smell of something cooking. the light pouring in from the curtain makes him squint–definitely a sharp adjustment from the darkness that consumed him before. he hears a woman humming a few rooms away, only furthering his confusion. he didn’t die? but how…he didn’t call anyone, and he knows no one in that area would willingly bring the sirens in to help him–and where exactly was he? all of these things hit him at once, but nothing harder than the deep ache in his bones. he couldn’t describe it, something so sharp and throbbing he could hardly get his body to obey his mind’s orders to move.

sitting up is pure hell. every red flag and stop sign goes off, making him grunt in agony. but he knows he has to get going–get out of whatever trap he’s got himself into. he doesn’t recognize the room–for all he knows, sukuna’s men followed him and have him here to torture.

but that woman’s voice, he knows it. that doesn’t mean this isn’t a trap still. the humming stops, and footsteps pad closer until a bright face pokes into the room, an ‘o’ shape forming on her face before she enters–complete with a plate of food.

“you’re awake–” you gasp in surprise. you had just come to do your rounds, deciding that eating with him would help you better watch out. you weren’t expecting him to already be up and at ‘em, he must be very strong. though you still notice how rigid he’s holding himself. “you really should lie down, you…” he cranes his sore neck, flashing you a glimpse of that black ink. you suddenly remember just how dangerous he is, and he looks like a dog backed into a corner, narrow black eyes sizing you up—distrust all over his feline features.

“who do you work for?” he tilts his head to one side, and your brows furrow in confusion, oh–he was worried you worked for a rival. you shake your head, eager to defend yourself.

“n-no one, no one right now!” you blurt out, anxiously shifting your weight foot to foot. you look down at the breakfast in your hands, holding it out for him to take instead. “here! eat, as a sign of my goodwill.”

he analyzes the plate, then looks back up at you–peacocking his shoulders back and hissing at the pain the stretch brought him. now you know just how weak he is—and he can’t make another target out of himself. “i hope you know i will have you killed if you’re lying.”

despite the way his glare makes your skin crawl and the hair at the base of your neck stand up, you can’t help but laugh at that. “i wouldn’t lie. i saved your life, why would i waste my time?” you shove the plate out further, basically putting it in his hands–one still heavily bandaged from dragging himself through the wreckage.

he takes the plate from you. if he’s shocked by that, he doesn’t show it. he only watches you as he eats your food, grunting in pain every so often. you took the iv out while he slept, not sure how he’d react when he woke up to wires. “i uh…i have medicine…for the pain.”

“who are you?” he returns without a second passing. he takes another reluctant bite of food, stomach growling in thanks.

you tell him your name, stealing a few glances at the heavy furrow of his brow. “you were badly hurt. i am a doctor..so i helped repair what i could. you should recover. i imagine you need to lay low?” you ask with a raised brow, betraying your intellect. he knows you must have some idea of who he is. “you can stay here as long as you need. you might want to shower–but you’ll…probably need some help.”

his expression shifts before your very eyes. his clenched jaw and steel brow relaxes into a soft look of…gratitude? truthfully, he was baffled. a doctor stumbled upon him, realized that he’s a criminal, saved him anyway—and now offers her home? he almost worries about how naive you really must be—but he owes you a debt he can never repay. you have given him a second chance—made revenge possible when he had given up completely. “thank you, little ebi. i will take up your gracious offer.” he nods, smiling kindly.

you smile, heart going awol inside your chest. it was the right thing to do, he was injured and needed to be cared for. you’re a doctor who suddenly has a lot of time on her hands. it means nothing–but that you still have empathy left in you. you know you’re close to shaking, but you turn to leave before it can show. “i’ll grab you a change of clothes. don’t move too much until i get back.” you hum, and he hums in acknowledgement.

he’s rather polite for a yakuza, his refined calmness even in the most dire of situations rubs off on you easily—you hold your head high as you pilfer through the tote of clothes your ex left behind, trying to find something for the big scary man in the living room. you finally decide on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. you even nab some of those painkillers you offered earlier, hoping to ease that stiffness he carries himself with to mask his suffering.

but when you get back to the living room the only thing waiting for you is the empty breakfast plate and a few hundred dollar bills—your curtains blowing in the harsh wind. your heart sinks for an unknown reason, and you tell yourself it’s because your patient wasn’t dressed for the cold.

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto x reader #crime boss geto!#doctor reader #fem!reader #jjk x fem!reader

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xsdjkl · 7 months

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Let's talk about So Mi's sacrifices for the NUSA

Basically, I'm just unpacking girl's trauma, because I have nothing better to do (that's a lie, but hush). Also, I gathered some little details about her that I like.

Enjoy and suffer.

When So Mi was recruited to the FIA by Reed she lost her home and all her friends. She was blackmailed and only because she cared about them and wanted to protect them she agreeded to join. And as So Mi herself says, the girl she was died that day and someone new was born.

Over time she bonded with Reed who became her mentor and friend. He was the only person in FIA who she could trust.

She was already lonely and was seeking someone whom she could trust completely - and Reed was always there for her. He taught her his craft. He taught her about the greater values and honour. He taught her how to follow orders.

And when the orders came, she obeyed. Betraying the one who was so very dear to her. It wasn't easy or fair, but that's what he taught her. That's what he always wanted from her. We hear a lot in game that Reed died that day, but we must realise that with his death part of So Mi died as well.

The only thing left in her life was duty... And when the president Myers herself gave the order to go beyond the Blackwall, So Mi was in no position to refuse. They told her it was for the greater good of their country that needed an edge against their enemies... even if it meant breaking the international laws. Laws that So Mi knew all to well as a netrunner were created for a reason.

Once again, she had to pay the price for the 'greater good'. This time it cost her her body. We don't know the specifics as of why was she so heavily implanted (unless I missed something, then feel free to correct me). My suspicion is that the organic body simply couldn't withstand interacting with AIs in a degree that So Mi was doing it. The body may have also proven an obstacle in communicating with the Blackwall, so she had to be upgraded. Something about becoming partially a machine to communicate with another machine? I'm actually willing to believe it actually enhances her analysis capabilities (example - our girlie being able to do three things at once).

Losing her body and detachment from reality.

At this point in the world of cyberpunk someone can replace their entire body and still look human.Then why Songbird's upgrades left her looking like a machine? Her entire upper body was replaced with only front looking like her old self, while her back remained revealed. What was the reason for it? (besides that it looks hot af) To easily 'fix her' whenever Blackwall caused her more damage and pain? To allow her easier access to the Net? To make her feel more like a tool she was?

Also, we can see in So Mi's memories that this change happened in only one surgery. Every time person implants new tech it is a huge trauma for their body. Now, imagine how she felt waking up with her entire upper body gone and replaced? What once felt as a soft skin now being a metal piece and thought she can still touch, she can't really feel?

How wouldn't this cause her to feel detached from people and the reality around her? In the psychological report about her we can read that she indeed has these moments of escapism and her general mental health was decreasing over time.

Let's not forget that So Mi had no one at this point in her life. Without Reed there was no who could she confide in. No one who could protect her from damaging herself even more. When the difference between her and people around her grew larger with each new sacrifice, especially after the operation, she became isolated, trapped in the metal shell that was her new body.

Also, I think it's worth mentioning here the foreshadowing we see in game about her cyborg body. Thanks to @yuri-bullets for pointing this out.

Her jacket with rib cage on the back just screams it's message and here I am oblivious to it. Really nice touch👌

So Mi being uncomfortable with her body.

When V meets Songbird face to face for the first time, she is visibly embarrassed and I'd say even a bit uncomfortable. The image of herself that she showed V through Relic is nothing more but her wish to how she could look and be percieved. This version of So Mi probably never even existed, yet she still wants V to see her as this person.

Through the Relic So Mi is much more comfortable and chatty. She moves around more freely, speaks more calmly. And I do realise that whenever V meets So Mi in her physical form she's either a prisoner or in pain, so she doesn't really have an opportunity to show 'her real face'. Yet, there are moments when So Mi's personality slips through, confirming that this person is truly somewhere there, trapped inside the metal cage of her body.

And no, this is not up for the debate - So Mi is touch starved. She wants to touch V on multiple occasions. She craves the feeling of someone being by her side, she yearns for comfort of the flesh, because she was deprived of it for so very long.

Another thing I noticed is the change in So Mi's haircut. Maybe she's just truly getting older and her preferences change... or maybe she's trying to hide something?

This might sound a bit silly, but So Mi doesn't even have ears at this point. Her current hair is arranged in a way that it hides the sides of her head. But, notice how So Mi's Relic version tucks her hair behind her ear. Is this another 'normally insignificant' thing that she misses?

This makes me so, so sad and literally drives me insane.

The breaking point.

So Mi gave away everything in the name of duty and empty promises and she was still asked for more. Again, we don't know the specifics, but she was infected with something that originates from beyond the Blackwall. Both Johnny's engram and the AI result in the same thing - a person fading away. But, while the Relic is overwriting V's memories and replacing them with Johnny's, changing the very structure of who they are, AI that lives inside Songbird is stealing the memories away, feeding on them in order to evolve. Her own self is literally being ripped away.

The only thing So Mi had left was herself and they tried to take it away from her. The very essence of being a person. It was being stolen, piece by piece. Every memory, every sensation fading away to the point where she could not remember her old home's address or her mother's voice. She'd be left an empty void, searching aimlessly for any scrap that once used to be her. Even Johnny admits that the worst thing someone can do to another person is to change who they are. The terryfing concept of taking someone's self... ceasing to exist. A fate, some might argue, worse than death (and we see it a lot in game - Songbird, Johnny, V, Peralez, hell even Garry The Prophet talks about it!). I will probably make a seperate post about it in the future.

So Mi had to do something in order to survive. This act of self preservation born from pure desperation to remain oneself led to the events of Phantom Liberty. Please notice how despite the pain and anger that she must have felt for being treated like a tool through all her life she still didn't wish for other people to suffer. For Myers she was just another weapon, yet So Mi didn't want her dead or hurt. She didn't wish her wrong, but she had to resort to treason for her own sake. Songbird never wanted revange. She just wanted to survive and be free. She just wanted to live.

Final thoughts.

Honestly, considering how faithfully Songbird served the NUSA throughout all these years they should be building statues in her honour. Alas, history will probably never know her name and her sacrifice.

I can't get over the fact how So Mi is still a good person with good intentions. Her heart remained pure despite everything she suffered. She's tormented by guilt and regret, making the same mistakes over and over again, but she doesn't want to anymore.

I do not doubt she always wanted to help V. She wanted to be honest with them. Yet, the circumstances forced her to manipulate the truth and lie to them about the cure. I'm sure that if she wasn't at a verge of dying she'd do everything in her power to be fair and keep her word.

She was lucky though, for meeting a rare kind of person in Night City who could truly care and forgive.

Thank you for reading, hope at least some part of whatever it is I wrote makes sense. Ta-ta

and yes i will count how many times she smiles at v

#long post #song so mi #songbird #songbird cyberpunk #songv #v #phantom liberty #phantom liberty spoilers #cyberpunk 2077

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Note

Loving the Zach stuff so far!!!

Could you maybe do something where yn hates his guts, but he is like in love with her and all her sass?? Then they're forced to go on some school trip together or something, and she realizes she likes him and a cute angry love confession, perhaps???

Danke 🫶🏼💐

Thank You, History Class

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Zach have been running in the same friend group since Freshman year, but it doesn’t mean they necessarily get along. Well, it doesn’t mean that she likes him. His sarcasm and puppy dog vibe annoys her cool and distant personality. He’s always asking her how her day is going and trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes. Zach, on the other hand, fell for her grumpy soul the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike most people, who don’t bother looking deeper into her personality, Zach could see the soft side that she held within and never let anyone see. He would always catch how she would stand up from her bus seat when she saw an elderly person. She wouldn’t let people around her know it was the reason, but she always did. He saw the little bowl of milk she left outside her house for a cat mother and her kittens. Finally, he saw how sweet she was to children whenever they were around her.

Zach didn’t want to take a history class and he certainly didn’t feel like going on a field trip to a museum. It all felt very high school to him. The only upside about it: Y/N is also taking the same class. When he saw that he needed a history credit to graduate, he definitely didn’t go looking for what classes she was taking this semester to try and be in the same one. The cost was giving Jason access to his bathroom whenever he wanted, but it was worth it. He knows the field trip isn’t mandatory for any marks, yet he knows Y/N is going to be there. As he heads toward the Victorian house, he finds Y/N out front waiting for the professor to show up. Her clothing consists of black and brown colours as usual. Her hair was held back by a shiny black claw clip.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, coming to stand beside her. She gives him a side eye, “Could you be more cliche? Try something more original, would ya? I still can’t believe you are taking this class.” He doesn’t let her sour mood dampen his energy. “Come on, you know you like having me with you in this class. The only other people in this class are girls who have a romanticized view of the era, or guys, who have a history stick so far up their ass that they think a history degree will take them far in life,” he notes, turning to look at her. She looks him dead in the eyes, “I’m a history major. And I am neither of those things.” “I know, that’s because you are so much better than them. You are far too smart for them,” he flatters. She shakes her head, turning her attention to the professor who has just arrived, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” The professor leads them into the museum and begins his lecture. After ten minutes of listening to the man speak, both Y/N and Zach realized that coming was a big waste of time. He doesn’t know what he is talking about and Zach can hear Y/N constantly correcting the older man under her breath.

He leans toward her, making sure his lips are close to her ear. “Wanna go on our own little tour? This man is getting half of this stuff wrong.” She thinks she has lost her mind because this must be the first thing Zach has said that she thought was a good idea. “That actually sounds kind of fun. They have a Victorian fashion exhibit I want to see, but I don’t think Professor Robo over there is going to take us to,” she whispers back. Her hand finds his and she hates to admit she likes the warmth of his in hers. They round the stairs to the exhibit. She looks delighted when she spots the first mannequin with clothes. Her feet find their way beside a girl about six years old, already looking at the dress. The child’s eyes find Y/N’s face and they smile at each other. “You know, this is an 1843 Evening dress. The bodice, the thing around the chest, is low off the shoulders. And they have lots of other skirts underneath to make it poofy,” Y/N softly explains to the little girl.

They spent around thirty minutes in the small room. Y/N walks around with Willow and Zach, explaining each outfit to them. She is surprised that Zach seemed honestly engaged with what she was saying and would ask thoughtful questions. Eventually, Willow’s mother, an employee, came looking for her and took the girl to lunch. “Do you want to head to lunch?” she asks. He shakes his head, “Actually, I was hoping we could look at the Victorian sports exhibit. I brought some snacks, so if you are hungry, we can share.” He pulls out a bag of cucumbers shaped like hearts. She has to giggle at the sight because big jock Zach MacLaren likes to have his vegetable cut into shapes.

“What?” he questions in fake offence, holding out the Ziploc to her. She shakes her head with a chuckle, “Nothing, just surprised your cucumbers look like an inaccurate depiction of a human organ.” “They make them taste better. Try,” he says with a shrug. He hands her a slice and listens to the sweet crunch of her biting into the vegetable. “Okay… I must admit it is more fun to eat it like a heart. I can pretend I’m a witch eating people’s hearts,” she agrees. He doesn’t look disturbed by her macabre comments, instead, he pretends to be ripping out his heart as he hands her another slice. She enjoys him playing with her deadly thoughts.

They spent about an hour looking at the different displays, eating his snacks and taking turns reading the display’s blurbs to each other. As they stand on the steps of the museum, Y/N towers over him from the step above. He looks up at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. “I hate to admit that you made this day pretty fun,” she confides. Her hands find their way behind her back, biting her lip as she looks into his eyes. His mouth turns into a crescent moon, “I’m really glad I did. I like spending time with you.” She takes a moment to think and moves her head away in frustration. Not at him, but at the turmoil inside her mind. Why is his charming smile suddenly getting to her? Why does she want to step into his warmth and let his arms bring her in? “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m falling for you, MacLaren. So… would you want to go to dinner? Like on a date,” she confesses with a hint of annoyance in her tone that is just normally there. She is disgusted by the excitement that crosses his face. He gets off the steps, running around the green grass in front of the building. He jumps every so often with a little whoop let out as he does so.

He rushes back to her, grabbing her around her waist and spinning her around. She finds the sound of her giggles odd but enjoys it nonetheless. “Way to keep a poker face,” she sasses, looking down at him. He doesn’t care though all he wants is a chance to be with her.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

Text

Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd

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inej-ruination-ghafa · 1 month

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TIME, CURIOUS TIME - L.C

Summary: the one where you first meet Luke and your entire world view changes.

Warnings: adoption, blood, character death

Wordcount: 3.6k

Masterlist: Time, passing

If there was one thing that people needed to know about you, it's that you don't like bullies. You hated them in fact.

There was an anger inside of you. A primal anger that oozes from your pores at every instance. You were angry at everything in life, your mother for giving you up for adoption, your father for ignoring you. You were angry at the world for every single bad thing that happened.

You had only been at camp for four months and you had gotten into eight separate fights. Just like normal. Just like in the Foster homes.

Now you were sitting in Chiron's office with a black eye. You had gotten into a fight with one of the kids again and was being punished for it. Even though you thought that the punching he had received had been deserved.

Your eyes were trained at your hands as they rested in your lap. You did not want to look up and see the disappointment in his eyes.

"You are one of the most interesting campers I've ever had," he said, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him. That was not what you had expected him to say after what you had done. You were expecting more of a lecture.

"Why?" you questioned.

"You've been here 4 months and already proved that you are a superb archer and swordsman, a brilliant medic. Yet you fail to stop yourself engaging in this tomfoolery," he explained.

You thought about all that he had listed to you. You were a child of Apollo after all, you should be good at all of those things and you weren’t surprised that he thought it was an accomplishment. You didn't want to be anything like your family.

There was silence and you looked at the centaur, “Am I expelled?”

He chuckled to himself almost incredulously, "No. We don't kick students out when they are troublesome,"

Troublesome. That was one word to describe you.

You had always been seen as the problem and the solution was always to send you away. You were a problem of the highest degree and everyone agreed. Even Chiron.

Chiron looked at you, arms folded across your chest as you rolled your eyes, "You know. If we didn't already know your godly parent, I would assume you were an Ares kid,"

you scoffed, looking up at him. You hated where he was coming from but it made sense. That anger in your bones was reminiscent of an Ares kid.

"That felt like an insult," you spat out, bitter. You didn't want to be compared to any of them monsters.

He tilted his head to the side, not understanding why you saw your anger as some sort of problem, "It's not. It's a compliment,"

You wanted to scoff at the idea. Anger was not a positive trait and nobody had ever noticed a single positive trait inside of you.

Silence fell over the room and you looked away from him, feeling shame bubble up in your chest at the way you were acting; you didn't mean to act like a spoiled brat.

"Anyway. I still have to punish you. So you will be sentenced to a week's worth of night shifts at the infirmary," he said.

Your head whipped up, "A week? I only broke his nose!" You could have done worse and you would have if your siblings hadn’t pulled you off of the teenage boy.

Chiron nodded, remembering the way that the sixteen year old boy cradled his face, blood dripping down his chin as he looked at the thirteen year old girl. He had never seen an Ares kid look so defeated by such a little camper.

"You still broke a fellow capers nose. And your dessert privileges will be taken away for that duration," He said.

He smiled at you and you stood up, mumbling a thank you under your breath before you walked outside. This was going to be hell.

If there was one thing that you hated more than anything, it was night duty. You looked around the medical bay and watched as the boy in there slept. He had a concussion and if it were up to you, he would be sent away but Chiron was a stickler to the rules - he needed 24 hour observation.

You walked around aimlessly, a cup of coffee in your hand.

Your life was a mess. You hated yourself. You hated the world. There was nothing here that made you want to stay and every day you looked out of that window in the Apollo Cabin, wondering if you would just leave. Its not like anyone would miss you.

That self loathing bubbled in your chest and you could feel it heavy on your chest.

This camp was supposed to be somewhere that all demigods are safe but in all truth, you had never been more lonely than you had been at Camp Half Blood. You felt abandoned by the Gods and the feeling was getting worse daily.

You were taken out of your thoughts by the sound of someone yelling. You brushed it off, everyone was always having nightmares at camp.

Then you heard them yelling for help and you realised something was wrong. Everyone would be asleep by now and you knew you would have to help.

You didn't want to play the hero. Everyone here acted like some sort of Greek hero and you hated it. But you knew you had to help so you looked around for something and spotted a sword at the side of the bed. You ignored the concussed teenager asleep in the bed as you picked the sword up, jotting down a note.

It was heavy in your hands and you didn't know how you would use it but knew you had to leave quickly. It was unbalanced, unnatural and you were not the best swordsman so you also picked up your bow and arrow, strapping that to your back before you ran off.

You rushed to the Big House for backup but as you got closer, you could hear the yells getting more desperate and knew there was no time. You had to help them and soon.

Muscle memory and adrenaline took you through the woods, trying to find where the voices were coming from.

You called out at the top of the hill, asking if there was anyone there but you heard nothing.

For a second, the noise had completely stopped and you felt your cheeks warm up. This had to be some sort of prank to get back at you for fighting the head of the Ares cabin.

You scoffed, turning around and preparing to leave. You could not believe that you fell for it and you could feel the embarrassment in your cheeks.

That's when you heard the little girls voice again, "Help! Somebody!"

You could see a figure by the camp sign now, illuminated by the fire. "Shit! Shit!"

There was no hesitation as you ran down the hill, not even stopping when you saw the fury hovering over the group of teenagers. There were four people there, one that you recognised as a satyr.

"Run annabeth! Take her Luke!" The main girl said, a large stick in her hands as she tried to bat the fury away.

You froze.

Fight or flight.

You could stay here and help the little girl as she held onto the boy's jacket or you could turn back and pretend that you haven't seen any of this. You knew the latter wasn't even an option.

"You don't have a real weapon!” The boy called out, eyes wide.

That's when you remembered you was there. You ran into the clearing and the kids turned to look at her in shock. They had not expected some hero to come out of the shadows but you were no hero, just someone who had stumbled into the situation.

You stepped into the clearing, "Here," you yelled out, throwing the girl the sword and she caught it quickly.

They all watched as you pulled your bow and arrow out, drawing it and taking a deep breath before shooting at the fury without any care for your own safety. At the same time, the punk looking girl stabbed the fury before being knocked to the floor.

The boy tucked the little girl into his chest as he watched the other girl get hit by the fury, falling over. He let out a yell.

You could only stand there and watch it all unfold. you didn't even know this girl's name and yet she was dying in front of you.

The little girl was sobbing now, the sounds muted as she tucked her head into the boys chest. He was trying to hide it but his chest was heaving up and down.

There was a second when the fury looked at you and you knew you were next. The fury was clutching its arm from where you had hit her. She looked at the camper, sneering before flying off. Her job was done.

In a matter of seconds, lightning struck the teenage girl and she began to turn into a tree, branches springing from her arms and greenery growing around her head.

There was silence. Nobody knew what to say, especially not you who was confused out of your mind.

You looked at the satyr and then you recognised him. He was the same one that saved you from that police station, "Grover, what's going on?” you asked, looking at the satyr.

His hands were shaking as he gestured towards them, "Meet our new residents of camp,"

"What the fu-" you pointed at the tree, yelling out in confusion, "What in the God's name is going on? She's a tree!"

The boy looked at you angrily and you recognised that look in his eye all too well, "The better question is who the hell are you?" The boy said defensively.

You threw your bow on the floor, adrenaline still coursing rapidly through your veins, "I saved your life," you spat the words out.

He walked over to you, towering over you and you wondered how old he was, "She still died," he spat out.

This close, you could see the cut on his jaw, the bruise growing on his shoulder and the tears that were drying on his cheeks. He looked almost ethereal in the fire light.

There was anger in both of your eyes and as you looked at him, you realised that nobody had ever looked at you like that. It was like looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You scoffed, ignoring the feeling in your chest, "I tried my best,"

Grover walked over, interrupting the two of them before they could get into a physical fight, "This is our Healer,"

There was silence as the two teenagers looked at one another, neither of them standing down. He seemed angry and it was understood but there was no need to take it out on you.

It was you who turned away first, "Come on in. You both need to be checked on and I'm working the night shift. Grover, go get Chiron,"

He nodded and when they reached the camp, Grover split off from the group to go to the Big House.

You could feel the tension in the air as you walked towards the medical hut. There was silence and you could remember how nerve wracking it was for you when you had arrived here. You felt a little bit rude for yelling at him now.

“This way,” you lead them to the medical bay and the boy with the concussion was out cold so you just turned the lights on, ushering the two inside.

You turned to the boy and decided not to make this too awkward, "How old is she?" You asked.

He narrowed his eyes at you before caving, "Seven," he said begrudgingly. He clearly didn't like you.

You turned to where the little girl was sitting on the bed and knelt down in front of her. You could remember how scared you were when you had arrived and you wanted to make it as comfortable for her as you could.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" You asked, trying to not scare her.

The little girl looked over your shoulder at the boy behind you and he nodded, arms folded across his chest. You was just making sure he thought that she was safe to talk

"Annabeth," she replied.

"That's such a pretty name. Now, tell me, does anything really hurt?" You asked with a smile.

She nodded and gestured down at her leg, "I twisted my ankle," she stated.

"Your ankle? Let me have a look," you sat down on the floor and looked up at the girl and she nodded. you then rolled up her trouser leg a little bit to look at it.

You examined it for a second, "It's a little swollen, do you want me to wrap it up?” Annabeth must have been so freaked out by all of this, you didn't want to scare her at all.

Annabeth nodded and you reached over to the side for some bandage and wrapped it around her ankle, tying it together before standing up.

You grabbed the Ambrosia, handing it to her, "Now. This is magic okay, you eat a little bit of this and it will male you feel better instantly,"

She was hesitant at first and then when she took a bite, she ate the whole bit. She smiled and looked at you, muttering a thank you.

You helped her up and then turned to look at the boy behind her, "I'll help your big brother now,"

Luke had been standing there the whole time, arms folded across his chest as he judged what you were doing. He didn't trust anything related to the Gods, especially not some weird medic.

"I don't need to be examined by a child," he said with a scoff

You looked at him again, narrowing your eyes, "I'm thirteen. I doubt you're much older than me,"

There was tension between the two young teenagers. Anyone worth a pulse could see it and they could tell that there was a shared anger between the two.

"Thirteen," he scoffed at the idea of you looking after him, "who taught you medical practices?"

You were starting to get mad. You couldn't understand why this kid wasn't going to just let you look after him when he needed it.

There was an anger at the gods on him that you recognised but there was no need to take it out on you.

"I'm a child of Apollo, i was born with it in my blood," You poked him in the chest before stepping back, "Now sit your ass down,"

He looked at Annabeth and she gave him a smile like she wanted him to get looked after. He sighed, he couldn’t let her down so he sat down on the bed.

You folded your arms across your chest, "Same question I asked Annabeth. Does anything really hurt?" You asked. You were mean to him, ignoring all of your bedside manners.

He shook his head, lips pursed together, "You didn't ask me what my name was,"

You sighed, folding your arms across your chest, "What's your name?" You asked, tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Luke," he looked over at Annabeth and the girl was smiling now and he smiled too. It was the first time he’d seen her smile in weeks, "And I'm fourteen,"

You looked down at the injury for a second, "This needs stitches," you said when you saw a wound in his shoulder, it had cut through his shirt and was starting to bleed a lot more.

You could tell that he knew that he needed to get helped but that he was so stubborn that he wasn't going to get it done. It was a pretty bad wound.

"I'll be fine," he turned his head away, stubborn, "I don't need your magic, i don't need any help for the Gods,"

You were starting to get mad at him now. He was stubborn, too stubborn, "I don't work for them," you said, scoffing, "Now do you want it stitched up or not?"

There was silence for a second and then he nodded his head. He knew that he needed help even if he was a little bit reluctant to it. You smiled with the knowledge that you had convinced him.

"Annabeth, can you go and get changed into these nice new clothes? You can go into that little room there," you picked up some spare clothes from a pile and handed them to her.

The girl smiled before walking away, "Thank you,"

"You’re welcome sweetheart," you watched as she walked away, closing the door.

You could feel your heart sink in your chest. You couldnt imagine having to come here at such a young age, it broke your heart.

You turned around and looked at Luke, a smirk growing on your face, "You're gonna have to take your shirt off,"

There was a second where you could see the blush riding to hours bells at the idea but he decided to just be annoying about it.

He was cocky about it, pulling his shirt off slowly before handing it to you. You had to hide the blush on your cheeks as you pulled up a stool, sitting in front of him.

The cut wasn't just on his shoulder, it spanned down a couple of centimetres through his chest. You placed the stool in front of him, sitting down.

"This is gonna sting," you said as you brushed the area with a disinfectant. He winced at the feeling of it on his cut, hand clutching onto the bed underneath him.

You muttered a sorry as you pulled the wipe away, placing it down before putting your gloves on and getting ready to stitch him back up.

You gave him a look, “You know, I could just give you ambrosia, then it would heal quicker,” you suggested.

He shook his head, “I dont want help from the Gods. We do this like mortals or not at all,”

You could tell something had really happened to him in his life to make him hate the gods so much and whatever it was it must have been bad.

“You’re decision,” you muttered as you started to sew him up, starting on the easier part on his chest and then moving up to the deep section on his shoulder.

He was tense and you didn't know what to do to try and calm him down, he just had to sit there and get on with it. You didn't want to hurt him.

As you reached the last stitch on his shoulder, pulling it tight and then tying it, he winced and then muttered a curse word under his breath. you looked up at him, feeling guilty.

"Sorry," you muttered under your breath, “But i'm done now,”

"No, I'm sorry. I was a jerk to you," he muttered your name quietly after that, almost like he felt embarrassed that he had remembered and you looked up at him. You didn't know that he had remembered your name.

You could feel your cheeks warmed up at the idea and you gave him a half hearted smile, "Thanks," you said, brushing another wipe over his chest and shoulder.

"I am sorry. My friend just died," he explained, tears burning in the back of his eyes at the thought.

"She had a Heroes death," you said before scoffing and then looking around to make sure that nobody could hear, "Not that that's worth anything. The Gods still let her die, they let them all die,"

Luke's face lit up as you said that. Nobody had ever shared his hatred towards the Gods before and all of the anger that he had towards you vanished in as second as he looked into your eyes.

His smile was infectious and you could feel one growing on your face just at the sight of him, "You're right! They're awful,”

There was another lightning strike and you could hear the thunder rumbling outside of the camp. Zeus did not like that criticism of his role as a father.

"Might not want to say that here," you said with a laugh.

Luke laughed too and you smiled at the sound, it was nice to hear someone laugh. He liked it as well, he couldn't remember the last time he laughed.

You smiled to yourself. You couldn't remember the last time that you had laughed with someone. It was nice to feel connected to someone, even if you’d only just met.

You handed him a camp shirt, assuming his size. He thanked you before pulling it over his head and then fixing his hair.

Annabeth walked out wearing one of your old shirts. You smiled, reaching your hand out and feeling the girl take it. She instantly cuddled up to you, not fully understanding what had happened that night.

You held close, eyes meeting Lukes. He reached forward, brushing a hand over Annabeth’s hair.

"You look great, I’m just gonna show you guys to the cabin a-" you started to explain before Chiron walked into the room.

They all went silent and as he looked at the group, Grover standing by his side, her knew this was it. There was a bad feeling in his chest and he knew that the prophecy that he had been fearing was going to come true soon. How did he know? Just a feeling.

A/N: Parts of this fic come from my other fic The Outsiders (linked here) so don't worry if it looks familiar or if you think it's plagiarised, I wrote both versions. If you want to read that you can.

This is the first part of a three chapter fic and this will be nothing like my book. This is a seperate fic, the start is just familiar.

Also. They are thirteen and fourteen in this chapter but by the time there is any romance, they will be 18. Please don't be weird about them.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x apollo!reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #percy jackson books #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke percy jackson #luke pjo #time passing series

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