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familyvideostevie · 6 months

Text

the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable.

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets. You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her." Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something.

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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iamnotoriginalphil · 5 months

Text

A Helping Hand (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You accidentally drag Melissa into a ruse in order to stop your friends from setting you up on any more blind dates

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: some self esteem issues, mentions of an age gap

“Trust me. This time I’ve found you the perfect date,” Carter said, pulling up outside Abbott.

“Not necessary,” you replied.

The last perfect date he’d set you up on had been a disaster. Not that you’d particularly wanted to go on the date to begin with. Your friends kept trying to solve your perpetual singledom, but what you hadn’t told them was you were holding out while working up the courage to ask out the one person you really wanted to.

“Why?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Because…” You were about to regret the words that came out of your mouth, “I’m already seeing someone.”

“Who?” he asked, leaning towards you.

A loud banging came from the window. You jumped, turning to look behind you. Red hair shone in the morning sunlight and green eyes were peering in, looking less than pleased.

“Oi, you coming? The news will be on soon,” Melissa called through the glass at you.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” you called back.

When you turned back around, Carter’s eyes had widened, flicking from you to her back to you. You froze.

“Is that her?” he asked.

“What?” you scoffed, “no. Look, I have to go.”

His hand shot you, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s who you’re seeing?” he demanded.

“Fine. It’s her. But it’s really new so don’t… tell anyone,” you whispered, “please don’t make a big deal about this.”

“She’s hot,” he said, looking over your shoulder.

You turned too. Melissa was still there, arms crossed, scowling at the car. You sighed, turning back to Carter.

“I have to go. But don’t you dare mention this to anyone. I don’t need you lot messing this up before it’s even something,” you hissed at him.

“Sure, sure,” he said, gently ruffling your hair, “go see your girl.”

You sighed, stepping out of the car. You slammed the car door shut with a little more aggression than you usually would use but you were tired and you didn’t even realise the can of worms you’d opened with a little white lie.

“You okay?” Melissa asked, falling into step beside you.

A car horn sounded behind you. You glared over your shoulder at Carter who was grinning at you.

“Fine,” you said, “just dickhead friends.”

The news helped calm you down and by lunch you’d forgotten all about your lie to Carter. Sitting by her at lunch, you were reminded of the way she made your heart beat faster and your breath catch. Her voice was enough to steal your attention and the way she’d laugh enchanted you. You’d do anything to make her laugh like that.

“Hey, is there something wrong with your car?” she asked, leaning back to talk to you at the table next to hers.

“It’s in the shop,” you replied, “the engine was making a funky noise and it got so loud I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Who was that in the car that made you so mad?” she asked.

“Just my friend Carter. Apparently I’m now a charity case that my friends have put on a roster of car pooling,” you said.

The way she looked at you had you shifting in your seat.

“What?” you asked.

“You ain’t a charity case,” she said.

“Okay.” You weren’t sure what she was trying to say.

She nodded , turning back to her lunch. Nothing had made sense, and you still had no idea what she was getting at but the conversation was closed. You nodded to yourself, biting into the leftovers you’d been eating before.

After school, a significant amount of time after the dismissal bell had rung, you stepped out into the evening air, tightening your coat around your body. Carter lent forward on the horn, grinning at you as you hurried down the steps.

“Yeah yeah,” you muttered, sliding into the car.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

You blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about. You turned, finding Melissa striding towards the car, looking ready to breathe fire. It crashed back into you, the lie you’d told and how fucked you were about to be. She tore the door open.

“Come on,” she said to you.

“What?” You were looking up at her and she was staring down at you and it was like the world was dropping out beneath you.

“Come on.”

She grabbed your arm, hauling you out of the car. You barely had time to grab your bag from the floor mat. She lent forward, looking in at Carter as if he’d done something to personally offend her. That wasn’t something anyone would dare to do at Abbott.

“She won’t be needing your charity anymore,” she said before slamming the door.

Her hand curled around your elbow, marching you off towards one of the last cars left in the lot. She wasn’t explaining anything. Carter wasn’t leaving. Nothing made sense.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you asked as she stopped to unlock the car.

“You’re no one’s charity case,” she said, “I can give you a lift.”

“So, what? I go from being my friends’ charity case to yours? I don’t see how this changes anything,” you said.

She pulled the door open for you, waiting with an expectant eyebrow raised. You sighed, taking your spot in her passenger seat. In the reflection of her rearview mirror you saw Carter approach, groaning at whatever was about to happen. They talked, Melissa’s eyes finding yours in the mirror before saying something to Carter.

She was looking at you oddly as she slid into the driver’s seat some minutes later. You were desperate to know what had been said, knowing it wouldn’t be good for you.

“Your friend asked me to come to a barbecue this weekend,” she said, staring the car, “as your new girlfriend.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. She dragged one away from you, forcing you to look at her. She hadn’t pulled out of her spot, sitting there in the idling car while you tried to tamp down your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, slightly muffled from the one hand still doing its best to hide you from view.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

“I just.” You sighed, “my friends keep setting me up on blind dates and no matter how often I tell them I’m not interested they keep doing it. So when Carter suggested I go on another one I told him I couldn’t because I’m already seeing someone and then you turned up. He asked if it was you and I… figured he’d never actually meet you so it didn’t matter. I’m sorry, I’ll tell him I lied to get him off my back.”

She pulled out of the parking lot, still not looking at you. Guilt curdled in your stomach and you didn’t know what else to say. Your head hung and you weren’t sure what to do. Maybe apologise more. Grovel for forgiveness. Melissa was not a woman to be caught up in bullshit she didn’t agree to and you’d done just that.

“I said I’d bring mac and cheese,” she said.

Your head snapped up. She still wasn’t looking at you, focusing on the road ahead, which given the driving was a good thing. Her lips curled up and you felt your cheeks heat.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, voice small, fingers twisting in your lap.

“Do you want to go on more blind dates?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit,” you replied.

Her eyes flashed over to you then back to the road.

“You better tell me your address or you’ll never get home,” she said.

You directed her to your apartment building, not sure what else to say. She pulled up to the curb, looking up at it with a small wrinkle to her nose. Her approval was clearly lacking and that made your stomach twist again.

“Seriously Melissa,” you said as the silence stretched, “you don’t have to do this. I’ll just tell him.”

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” she asked.

And that was the last you talked of coming clean to your friends. She picked you up for the rest of the week as you waited for your car to be fixed, and dropped you off each night. And on Saturday, the day your friend Jenny was hosting a barbecue for Jared’s birthday, she knocked on your door rather than just sending you a one word text to get your attention.

“Hi,” you breathed out, seeing her there on the other side of your door.

Her hair was tied up, jeans and a tank top encasing her body. Casual Melissa was so very delicious, and for the afternoon she was going to be yours. It made no sense. None at all.

“How long do you think this thing’s gonna be?” she asked, pushing past into your apartment.

You followed her, watching her look over the room, eyes lingering on photos and little keepsakes. She picked up one frame, a small smile curling her lips before her expression was wiped clean.

“We don’t have to stay long,” you said, “whenever you want to go feel free to.”

“I’d never leave my girl alone,” she replied, placing the frame down again.

“Right. And I am sorry about this. Really.” You hoped she could hear the earnestness in your voice.

“Stop.” She held a hand up to you, “I’m doing this, aren’t I? If you keep apologising I’m gonna think you don’t want me to.”

“You’re being very kind,” you said, “thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, hon,” she said, “you’re my good deed for the month.”

You gave a weak laugh, picking up your container of watermelon and the cake you’d spent the previous night baking. She took them from your hands before you could ask for help. Locking the door behind you, keeping your face averted, you refused to let her see the impulse to swoon. In less than a week she’d treated you better than past girlfriends ever had.

You settled in the passenger seat, the cake resting on your lap, the wrapped present at your feet. Melissa merged into traffic, taking you closer to the party. You could feel your anxiety rising, not sure how this was going to go. Your friends and Melissa together in the same room, one believing she was your new girlfriend, the other pretending in order to help you… do what? Save face? Not go on any more awful blind dates? Use as blackmail material later down the road?

“I can hear you thinking,” she said, flicking on her indicator.

“Sorry,” you said.

“I’m not gonna give the game away,” she said, “stop worrying.”

“I just… I know you won’t,” you replied.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not Barbra, you don’t… we’re not friends like that,” you said.

“Aren’t we?” She turned her head slightly, not quite towards you but not away from you.

“Are we?” You didn’t know that answer.

“Just accept the help, hon,” she sighed, and you didn’t know what the emotion in her voice was.

“Thanks Melissa,” you whispered.

She pulled up outside Jenny’s house, the balloons tied to the letterbox swaying in the air. You looked up at it, your anxiety spiking again. A warm hand landed on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

“C’mon, hon,” Melissa said, “the sooner we go in the sooner you’ll see it’s all fine.”

“Right. Yeah. You’re right,” you said.

She didn’t hold your hand as you walked up to the door, nor did she try to touch you in any intentional way. She stood close enough for you to feel her warmth, but not so close that she was crowding you.

“Ready?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she adjusted her hold on both the mac and cheese she brought and the food you’d made and lent past you, knocking on the door. It took only a moment before the door was pulled open. Jenny was laughing at someone over her shoulder, before turning to look at you.

“Hey,” she said, pulling you into a hug.

You went, still feeling tense. Her eyes turned towards Melissa, interest entering her gaze. They swept over her before turning back to you.

“Is this her?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Jenny this is Melissa,” you said, turning to her, “Mel, this is my friend Jenny.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, you too. Where can I put this?” she asked, holding the food out to her.

“Oh, the kitchen is this way,” she said, turning on her heels to stride back into the house.

You shared a glance with Melissa before following Jenny inside. She helped Melissa place the containers of food down, looking out of the open door pointed at the backyard. Your friends were gathered, most already with some kind of drink in hand, Carter behind the grill, ominous smoke rising into the sky. Music was playing faintly and there were balloons all over the place.

“You work at Abbott too, right?” Jenny asked.

“Ya,” Melissa said and you realised that involving someone with severe trust issues of anyone she didn’t know was maybe not the best idea.

“She teaches second grade,” you said, “one of the best teachers we have.”

Her head snapped towards you, something unreadable crossing over her face before disappearing. Jenny was watching with interest and you knew you had to do better if you wanted your friends to think you weren’t perpetually single.

“Where’s Jared?” you asked, hoping to distract her from whatever was going on with you and Melissa.

“Outside,” she said, “so Melissa-“

You grabbed Melissa’s arm, tugging her towards the door before Jenny could say anything else. Out of her sight, you let her arm go, stepping down onto the grass. The air smelt of smoke and grass and summer, of days long since gone and days yet to come. You took a deep breath.

“Hey,” Carter said, jogging up to you.

“Hi,” you said, “I brought Melissa.”

“Great to see you again.” He was grinning at the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him. Melissa followed you, right on the periphery of your vision, there but not close. Maybe that was a problem. If you were newly in a relationship would there be that much distance between you? Could you reach out and bridge the gap? You weren’t sure you could.

“Hey Jared, happy birthday.”

You thrust out the present in your hands to your friend. Tall and handsome, his charisma had meant he’d done well in life and love. In comparison, you were a hot mess. And yet growing up in neighbouring houses meant you had a friend for life it seemed.

“Thanks,” he said, a lazy smile spreading over his face, “is this the woman who’s finally taken you off the market?”

“This is Melissa,” you said, turning to look at her.

Her green eyes were narrowed and she’d crossed her arms, looking less than friendly. You sighed. You might have seen the softer side of Melissa Schemmenti but she was hardly showcasing it with your friends.

“Congrats on finally being good enough with this one,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “she’s a picky one.”

“Is she?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She has turned down every single person we’ve set her up with for three years,” he said.

“Has she?” She was looking at you with too much interest.

Hopefully she wasn’t putting two and two together. Three years ago you’d started working at Abbott and for three years all your dates were with people who weren’t her. You felt your cheeks heat up and you looked away.

“Glad to see someone broke the curse,” Jared laughed, letting you go, “get drinks. We have all kinds of stuff.”

You wandered off, waving to your friends, Melissa keeping step with you. The cooler was full of ice, drinks nestled inside. You reached down, passing her one of the bottles of beer before taking a soda for yourself. It shouldn’t have been hot watching her open the bottle, but it wasn’t often someone could do it without a bottle opener.

“Three years huh?” she asked after taking a drink from the bottle.

“My friends mean well but they have no idea what I’m looking for in a partner,” you replied with a small shrug.

“That’s a long time to not have one good date,” she said.

You shrugged again, not sure what to say. You weren’t about to admit the real reason was standing in front of you. You weren’t delusional enough to think she’d appreciate it or, god forbid, return your feelings. She could do better than you.

“Holy shit, y’all have to try this mac and cheese,” Henry called out, “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Melissa looked towards them. You chuckled, looking down at your feet scuffing in the grass.

“What?” she asked.

“They’re never going to want to get rid of you now,” you said, “damn you and you’re mouth watering cooking.”

“My what?”

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She raised her own in response, waiting for an answer.

“Oh come on. You know you’re crazy good at cooking. You brag about it at least three times a week over lunch,” you said, “modesty isn’t a good look on you.”

She laughed, the kind that you desired to hear over and over again. Head thrown back, lips curling up into a beautiful smile, you stared at her doing your best not to have your feelings show all over your face. She nudged you with her shoulder, the laughter dying but her eyes sparkling.

“Jenny said you made this.”

Henry was there, holding the plate of mac and cheese, cheeks bulging from how much he’d put in his mouth. You snorted but you knew what was coming.

“If you break up with her,” he said, turning to you, “we’re taking her side.”

You snorted, “yeah, good luck with that.”

“Seriously,” he said, turning back to Melissa, “how do you do it? This is like the perfect consistency. And the flavour profile is off the charts. Do you do catering?”

“She’s a teacher, Henry. Chill out,” you said, “and I know for a fact Caroline won’t want mac and cheese at the reception. They’re getting married next year.”

That last part was for Melissa. She was growing more incredulous as the conversation continued. She stepped just half a step closer to you, her body warmth once again brushing against you. A small sigh left your lips, shoulders relaxing just a touch more.

“You ain’t getting my secret ingredient,” Melissa said, “but I’m sure I could be convinced to make it again for youse one day.”

“Convince her,” Henry said to you.

You watched him walk away, slapping Jenny’s hand away when she tried to steal some of it.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” you said, turning to look at her.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Pretend like you’re going to be around forever,” you replied, “you never have to come to another one of these things.”

“Hon, let me decide if I’ll be back. You just worry your pretty little head about having a fun time with your friends,” she said.

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Her hand slid into yours, palm brushing against palm until her fingers tangled with yours. Your heart skipped a beat, the touch of skin against skin making you feel breathless. Her smile softened, hand tightening.

“Go have fun, sweetheart,” she said, gently pushing you towards the group gathering close by.

You kept half an eye on her as you joined your friends, tracking her movements through the afternoon. She mostly kept close to the grill, and after a few false starts, seemed to charm your friends. Watching her, it only cemented that you’d made the right choice on having a crush on her, as if you’d have any chance not to.

“I like her,” Jenny said, “and you obviously do too.”

She nudged you and Jared laughed.

“Well, yeah, I’m dating her,” you said, doing your best not to trip on the word.

“And you look at her like she’s even better than her mac and cheese,” Jared said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“You’re the definition of heart eyes,” she said, “when you look at her you get all melty and soft.”

“I do not,” you protested.

“You so do,” she laughed, “you get that dopey smile whenever you look at her.”

“And you look at her a lot,” Jared said.

You didn’t know how to refute the claim without giving the whole game away. You sighed, eyes flicking up, as they had all day, to find Melissa. She was already watching you, those green eyes shining when they met yours.

“See? That’s the expression,” Jenny crowed.

“Lucky for you, short stack,” Jared said, resting his arm around your shoulders, “she seems just as besotted with you.”

Now that was going a step too far.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Be nice,” you said, ducking out from under his arm.

Inside the house, away from the prying questions and and knowing looks, you could breath easier. You locked yourself away in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror over the sink. Your fingers clenched, thoughts racing. On the one hand it was good that you were selling the lie to your friends, on the other you hadn’t meant to show your actual feelings and didn’t want it getting back to Melissa. She’d know. Of course she’d know.

Cold water splashed up on your face and you put your game face back on. If you could keep it under wraps during school hours you could keep it under wraps now. You patted your face dry and slipped back into the house proper.

“So what’s your intentions with our girl?”

You paused just out of sight, listening in. Your friends, bless their hearts, were doing their whole Spanish Inquisition act and you couldn’t pretend like you weren’t interested in seeing how she smacked them down. There was no doubt in your mind she wouldn’t put up with their inane questions.

“I want to make her happy,” she replied and you could see the way she would be shooting them a look telling them how idiotic she found the question. As if her answer was obvious.

“Good answer,” Henry said.

“Could be practiced,” Jared said.

“Rehearsed even,” Carter said.

“Why her?” Jenny asked.

“What?” You could hear the offence settling into her voice.

“Why choose her?” Jenny asked, “and be careful. There is a right answer.”

You internally groaned, leaning against the wall. More than once someone had decided you weren’t worth it after going through this process. That the scrutiny wasn’t worth it. Melissa had to bring her A game if she was going to get through it.

“Why wouldn’t I choose her?” Melissa asked.

“She works too much,” Henry said.

“She eats too much sugar,” Jared said.

“She’s a mess,” Carter said.

“So why her?” Jenny asked.

“You say she works too much. I say she’s passionate. I haven’t seen such a talented young teacher in a long time. And yes, she eats like a kid with too much money let loose in a candy store. But she’ll share it with anyone she thinks needs it to the point where she’ll go without. And she’s not a mess. She’s doing the best she can and she’s doing it pretty damn well. I don’t know if youse don’t see her clearly enough but if that’s the only way you see her then it’s pathetic that youse call yourself her friends. I ain’t never seen someone who makes life brighter than she does. She is kind and talented and she cares so much it’s made her physically sick before. If youse think there is any reason I wouldn’t choose her, you’re wrong. So don’t give me stupid excuses to not want her. It won’t work. I’ve been choosing her longer than you know.”

It felt as if your knees were going to give out beneath you. You trembled, pressing back against the wall, doing your best to not slide down it. Your breathing, where you’d been holding it to listen to her, was now ragged. You had to pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, forcing yourself to push the tears back.

No one had ever said anything like that about you before.

“You didn’t even mention how hot she is,” Jared said.

You pressed your hand to your lips to keep the wet laugh from making a sound.

“Her being hot is just an extra benefit. I’m not with her because she’s hot. I’m with her because she’s the sun,” Melissa said, scoffing at your friend.

Your mouth fell open. You had no idea Melissa could have been so poetic, especially without giving her a heads up that this might happen. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest and you had no idea how you were going to face her now. You ached, deep within you, to reach out to her, to press yourself to her, to bury your face in her neck until you weren’t sure where you ended and she began. Curling your arms around your body, you held on, desperate to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Good enough for ya?” Melissa asked into the silence left behind in the wake of her words.

There was a general grumbled agreement before footsteps began to sound again. You wiped the vulnerable skin under your eyes, brushing away the tears. You steeled yourself, straightening your spine, clenching your jaw. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the kitchen again.

“There you are,” Jenny called, sticking candles into the cake you’d made for Jared.

Melissa was still there, looking out the door into the backyard. You sidled up to her, shoulder brushing against shoulder. She looked down at you and you couldn’t begin to unpack the expression on her face.

“You okay?” You asked, lowering your voice to keep Jenny from hearing.

“Perfect, hon,” she replied.

Her arm curled around your waist, so warm, making you only want to press yourself against her more. Your head fell on her shoulder, resting there, scared it would be too much for her and yet not able to stop yourself from seeking out her touch.

“Come on, you two,” Jenny said, “we got cake to eat.”

Melissa’s hand slid back into yours, and as you sang happy birthday to your friend, you felt your heart in your throat and your body yearning for her. As Jared lent forward to blow out the candles, she looked down at you, smiling softly, eyes sparkling down at you. You found yourself leaning towards her, drawn in by her gravity. She let your hand go, arm sliding around your waist, hand now resting on your hip, burning through the denim of your jeans. Your breath hitched and her eyes flicked down to your lips, her own pulling up in a small smirk.

You had no idea what to do with the way she was looking at you.

“Melissa,” Jenny said, stealing her attention, breaking whatever spell was woven over the two of you, “have you had any of our girl’s baking yet?”

“I made her a tiramisu for her last birthday,” you called to her.

“You made that? Shit, hon, I thought you’d bought it,” she said.

Had you revealed too much? No. No, you couldn’t have.

“Course I made it,” you replied with a small shrug, “no big deal.”

Something in her softened.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Her lips pressed to your temple, soft and addictive and your breath caught in your chest. Your skin tingled with electricity and if you could bottle a single moment of your life it would be that one to revisit any time you wanted. It would feed you for the rest of your life.

There was a collective aw from your friends. Your cheeks heated and you had to look away, scared they’d see too much. That Melissa would see too much. Her arm tightened around you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Do you want some cake?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, cheeks still hot enough to fry an egg on.

You took a slice from Jenny, waiting to see Melissa’s reaction before taking your own bite. Her eyes slid closed and she made a noise so filthy you thought you were going to have a heart attack. It sent a shot of pleasure right between your legs and you felt your eyes widened as you looked at her. Her eyes blinked open, hooded and seductive, and you had to swallow past the lump in your throat.

“I’m going to marry you just to have access to this cake for the rest of my life,” she said, voice husky.

You laughed, a little uncomfortable even while the thought was pleasant. Being Melissa Schemmenti’s wife. It was one of those fantasies you tried not to indulge in too much. You shoved a forkful of your own cake into your mouth to keep from saying anything stupid in response.

“I wanna open presents,” Jared whined, mouth half full of cake.

Jenny laughed, shoving him over to the table of nicely wrapped gifts. He tore through wrapping paper, uncaring of the mess he was making. Melissa was still holding you, but was focused on him, no longer making you feel as if you were about to faint from the pressure of her gaze. Your head lent against her shoulder again, watching Jared holding up the awful sweatshirt you’d bought him with the president’s face on it. He was grinning at you before pulling it on despite the warmth and the sun.

“I look so hot,” he said, looking down at himself.

“You look sweaty,” Harry said, shoving at him.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you wish you had this sweet piece of ass,” he replied.

“I’ll keep my own piece of ass thank you,” he said, “she at least knows how to shower.”

“How about we don’t call women pieces of ass?” Jenny suggested.

“Sorry, Jen,” he said, “but you know what I mean.”

“And I hate it,” she said.

You laughed, pressing your face into Melissa’s shoulder to muffle it. You felt her nose brush against your temple, her own chuckle soft. Warmth bloomed through your chest, embers of fire floating through your bloodstream. You pressed more to her, hoping it would stop you from doing something stupid, like press your lips to the skin under your face. Her lips brushed your temple and you felt yourself freeze.

Cold water splashed against your stomach. You shriek, flinging yourself out of Melissa’s arms. Jared had levelled a water gun at you, huge and intimidating, the box it had come from lying at his feet. He lifted it and you ran backwards, cursing at him as you took refuge in the kitchen. Melissa was following you, looking no more like she wanted to be soaked than you did. But still, you were laughing as you looked out the window at them, the shiver of your wet shirt barely noticed while you watched the boys battling it out in the grass.

“You alright, hon?” Melissa asked.

You looked over, finding her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes travelling over your body. Your cheeks heated again.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet clothes,” she said and you knew she didn’t mean it to sound like such an invitation.

“I’ll be fine,” you brushed off, turning away to keep her from seeing the moment of longing on your face.

Warm hands settled on your hips, pulling you back against a soft body and all thoughts fled from your head. You lent back against her, unconscious of your actions and yet desperate for it. Her breath ghosted against the shell of your ear.

“Let me take you home to change,” she said, “Ava doesn’t have the money for a sub if you get a cold.”

Of course. Of course it was about work. Even if a shiver went down your spine and a whimper threatened fall from your lips. You’d never felt such a deep well of want for another person before.

“Okay,” you whispered.

She gave your hips a squeeze before letting you go, stepping back. Thoughts flooded back in, the throb between your legs making you feel shaky. You tottered over to the door.

“Hey, assholes, we’re heading off,” you called to the boys, Jenny standing by the door as if daring the boys to try and soak her.

The chorus of complaints made you smile, shaking your head with such fondness it almost hurt. Jenny gave you a tight hug, ignoring how wet your shirt was, leaving a wet patch on her own. Jared lifted you off your feet, swinging you in a circle. You were laughing and holding on for dear life but his strength was everything. Henry have you a one arms hug, the other holding the water pistol, trying to fight off Carter. He grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you with a loud smack on your forehead.

You turned back to wave from the door before your hand was sliding into Melissa’s again and you were being led out the front door. Settling into her car, you let out a sigh, one that spoke of happiness and contentment. You lent back in your seat, the smile on your face wide, all encompassing, until the muscles in your cheek began to hurt.

“Thank you,” you said, “that was a really good afternoon.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Melissa said, pulling out onto the road.

“They mean well,” you said, “sorry if they… I dunno. Made you uncomfortable or something.”

“They didn’t,” she assured you.

“You don’t have to lie. I heard them grilling you,” you said, not quite able to look at her. You hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but the words spilled from your lips without permission.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, hon,” she said but her voice was tight.

You sighed, shuffling in your seat until you were looking at her. Her hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles growing white. You wanted to reach out to her but didn’t know how, not without making her unhappy with you.

“You answered really well,” you said, hoping it would calm her.

Her eyes flicked to you then back to the road, hands tightening. Still she said nothing. Your fingers twisted together in your lap, anxiety building again. The nice afternoon was being washed away, the calm you’d felt as you’d climbed into the car nothing but a memory.

“Melissa,” you said, hoping the words would come as you spoke.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she snapped before you could say anything more.

“I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” you said, “I shouldn’t have done that. I could have stopped them and not… heard.”

“It’s fine,” she said, grip tightening even further, “we’re going to ignore it ever happened.”

“But what you said was so nice. I know you were only saying it so they’d believe we were together but… no one’s ever said anything like that about me,” you said, disappointment making your heart sink.

“What do you mean I only said that for them?” she asked, voice tight.

“Well, you were selling it, right? Helping convince them of the stupid lie I told Carter. Weren’t you?” You didn’t know what she was getting at.

Her head turned towards you again before back to the road.

“Hon.” You’d do anything to stop her sounding that way, like she was in pain.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I don’t suppose you do,” she sighed.

The silence that settled over you wasn’t comfortable. It made your skin itch and you wanted to do something to fix it. To make everything better.

“You called me the sun,” you whispered.

Her foot slammed down on the break. You jerked forward, the seatbelt cutting into you. You took a sharp inhalation, hand massaging your chest. Turning towards her, you found her already staring back at you. You stopped breathing.

“Because you are the sun, hon. To me, at least. And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it. You need to know. You light up a room when you walk in and you’re so fucking bright. Sometimes I can’t even look at you,” burst from her, “fuck, hon, when you look at me like that I can’t think.”

“What?” You couldn’t be sure you weren’t dreaming.

“I didn’t agreed to this whole stupid thing for you,” she said, “I did it because I wanted to know what it would feel like to be yours. I was being selfish.”

“Melissa,” you breathed, overcome with the strength of your emotions.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare. We’re going to forget this ever happened. We’re never going to talk about it. This is done,” she said, beginning to drive again.

You sat in silence, not sure how to tell her that was the opposite of what you wanted. If you never said anything then you’d never have everything you wanted. You were watching her, taking note of the way she was pointedly not looking at you.

She pulled up outside your apartment building. She sat there, still not looking at you, while you looked to her. She glanced over to you then back out the windscreen, face stoic and unfeeling.

“Go on,” she said, “what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

You continued looking at her until she huffed and turned to look at you too.

“I’ve never gone on more than a first date with anyone in three years because three years ago I met you,” you said, ignoring the disgruntled look on her face, “and since that moment I knew.”

“Knew what?” she asked.

“There wouldn’t be anyone else for me. You were it. Everything I ever wanted.”

“Don’t you fucking make fun of me,” she spat.

“Mel…”

You final bridged the gap, reaching out to her, fingers soft as they touched her wrist. She jerked back from you and it was like having your heart torn out from your chest. You were so close to having what you wanted.

“Melissa,” you said, trying again, “I want you so much it hurts. It’s like this physical ache in my heart. I look at you and it throbs like an open wound. You might think I’m the sun, but you’re the very earth beneath my feet. Solid and grounding and life giving. You’re the air I breath. I think about you all the time. To the point where I can’t sleep at night. I’m sorry. I know I’m being really intense. But you need to know how much I’m not making fun of you. I never would. Not like this.”

You’d been watching her face so closely, desperate to know what she was thinking. From anger to disbelief into something that was almost fear. Your hand landed on her wrist again, holding on now, desperate for her not to pull away again. You needed her to listen to you, to really understand what you were saying.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I am hopeless and completely in love with you, Melissa,” you said, “but I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She let out a long shaky breath, staring at you as if trying to work out where the lie was. You tightened your grip on her wrist. Her eyes shot down to it then back to you.

“You’re in love with me? Even when I’m so much older? When I can’t offer you anything?” she demanded.

“You can offer yourself and that’s really all I want,” you replied, “it’s all I’ve wanted for three years.”

Her hand rose, hovering over your cheek, before curling around the back of your neck and pulling you in. You whimpered into her mouth, lips sliding along lips. It wasn’t elegant and it wasn’t graceful, but it made your heart pound. She sighed, kissing you harder, as if trying to chase away the voices in her own head. You were swimming in want; wanting her closer, wanting more, wanting everything. Her fingers buried themselves in your hair, holding you there as her tongue sought out yours, making your head spin.

When she drew back, you were gasping for breath. Her lips were kiss stung and her eyes were bright. You surged forward, kissing her again, uncaring of the seatbelt and the centre console and awkward angle. You needed her like you needed air. She was your air. She was your everything.

She was always going to be your everything.

“Hon,” she mumbled against your lips, “wait a moment.”

You froze before reeling back. You never wanted her to ever be uncomfortable with you. You never wanted her to feel pressure or forced into anything.

Her fingers were still buried in the hair at the nape of your neck. She tugged on it and a shudder went through your body. Her eyes were smouldering and when her tongue ran along her bottom lip you groaned, loud in the enclosed space. She chuckled, tugging on your hair again.

“Let me take you out tonight,” she said, voice husky and you could hear how she was holding herself back, “please.”

“Like on a date?” you asked, breathless and desperate, thighs pressing together as you squirmed in your seat.

“Exactly like on a date,” she replied.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “yeah I’d like that.”

“Good.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to yours again. You whined into her mouth, not able to stop yourself. You wanted her so much it was making you lose all control. She pulled back again, sitting back, removing her hands from you. You tried to pull her back but she pushed you into your seat, making you almost cry out from your need for her.

“Go make yourself pretty for me, hon,” she said, eyes darkening when they swept over your body thrumming with desire, “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“You don’t want to come up?” you asked, knowing how desperate you sounded.

“I do, but I won’t.” Disappointment plummeted through your body, “when I have you I’m taking my time to explore every inch of your body. I want to know everything that turns you on. We don’t have time for that before our date. Go on.”

“You’ll really come pick me up?” you asked, surprised you could still form coherent sentences after her declaration.

“Nothing could stop me,” she said, smiling at you with such wickedness it had your thighs clenching again.

You stumbled from the car, looking back at her. She was watching you, not even pretending not to. You waved to her from the door of your building, heart thundering, anticipation building, desire thrumming. She raised her own hand to you and you had to clench on the door handle lest you flung yourself back into the car and into her lap.

You had a date to go get ready for.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa schemmenti

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puckarchives · 4 months

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personally, i found it very attractive: l. hughes

blurb: in which an interview with the devils' upcoming rookie takes the intern by suprise. / word count: 1.5k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

To be fair, all that I wanted to do was leave the Prudential Center, go home, and take a long bath. The game between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers had gone into overtime, and as much as I loved my job, it truly had been a long day.

Flashing my lanyard at the security guard standing outside of the Devils' locker room, I was ushered into the room, joining the growing cohort of other journalists; writers who had made their entire career off of reporting on the comings-and-goings in the sports world. Now that the team had been solidified with major additions, and taken players off of their Injury Report roster, the Devils had put up a good fight against their Hudson River rivals.

Grabbing my phone and opening voice notes, I made a beeline for the one player that I needed to cover— Luke Hughes, one of the newest additions to the Devils, and a hell of a defenseman that I needed to talk to on his play earlier on the ice. And, thanks to the work I had put in weeks before trying to get this same interview, I had the opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of having to wait around in a circle while other journalists droned on (and asked) practically the same questions over and over again.

I had fallen in love with sports journalism because of this— because of the opportunity to speak with the players who have it their all on that ice, and who had a true passion for the game they played.

I once again flashed my I.D. to one of the team's publicists, Sharyl, and she smiled over at me— shaking my hand and calling over Luke.

"Hi Y/N! How are you holding up over this season?" she asked as we stood in our corner, both angled to see the player coming towards us.

"Hi Sharyl, I'm doing well! Just finished up my third-year, and I just need this last interview to finish up the project I've been working on these past few weeks," I told her. It was true— I had been working on this player profile for the past few weeks, and currently, this single nineteen-year-old rookie was the only person left on my list before I could publish the article that I was hoping would help my career.

"Oh that sounds so good, sweetheart! I know just how many hours you've been putting in here, and I'm so excited to read!" the older lady said.

"Here's Luke now!" she said, saying hello to the defenseman, and then turning back to me.

"Luke, this is Y/N, the reporter I mentioned from ESPN's journalism internship cohort. She's just going to go over a few things with you, and finish up her profile," she told the curly-haired boy.

"Hi, Luke, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!" I spoke up, putting my hand out for him to shake.

It seemed to take him a few moments to catch up with me; and, to be fair, that was to be expected. I was his age, and from the way Sharyl was speaking about me, you'd expect me to be much older, or even a man. When I had begun working for ESPN's College Internship program, I had started with baseball as my main coverage sport— slowly growing from that to hockey as the seasons changed, and then, finally, landing on the Devils as my main beat at the beginning of the season. With all that, however, I knew the way people looked at me— questioning as to why an eighteen year old college student was interviewing men in sports that others thought I didn't even know existed, or even know how they worked. So, his reaction was expected.

The six-two boy in front of me seemed to be struck out of whatever stupor he was in, however, and shook my hand back.

"Hi, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Sharyl said you'd be stopping by," he said. He was quiet, and I could tell how much of a toll the game had on him— despite being freshly showered, he sported his signature smirk— looking down at me as the cheers and celebrations kept it up behind him.

"Yeah! I just have a few questions to ask, but do you want to follow me out to the media office? It shouldn't take too long, especially since I'm sure you want to go celebrate your win tonight," I told him.

Not really looking for a response, I looked over the boy— he was, admittedly, cute. His eyes were full of life— and he filled out his after-game clothing well. That, and the coupling of beauty marks over his face just enhanced how handsome he was. God, get it together, I told myself. You're on the job!

Finding ourselves in one of the various media offices hosted in the Prudential Center's basement, I sat down across from the rookie, and waited until we were both situated to start the interview.

“So, thank you for sitting down with me! It was a long game out there, but you’re really pushing through,” I laughed, trying to ease the tension I could feel on my end. I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of this very cute boy, and even less knowing that he was a professional player in the sport I covered heavily.

“No— no it’s all okay, no worries,” he said, “I’d rather be here than listening to Shmido trying to recap the entirety of the second-half,” he laughed.

“Well, you’re the first to say that,” I smiled back. “So, now that you’re on your second official NHL game, I kind of have to point out— you went from playing for Michigan, and then skating for the league in just a few weeks, and you admittedly have had a huge transformation—” I started.

“Yeah I got faster,” he laughed, his cheeks tinging a shade of pink, and I couldn’t really lie to myself and blame it on his earlier celebrations. “Don’t worry, you can say it— Jacky has.”

“Well, I’ll be honest, it’s really been great to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire game,” I said, and then admittedly felt my own cheeks flush, because truly, what was I thinking? Was I openly flirting with a guy I was supposed to be interviewing? Before I could feel myself blush even further, or even make the situation even more awkward, the silence was broken with Luke’s laugh— a stark and loud chuckle that made me look up automatically. His blush had now traveled from his cheeks to the tip of his hair, peeking out of his wet curls.

He ran his hand through his hair, “Well I mean, that’s definitely great to hear— are you serious?” he said, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was joking— if he was making fun of my obvious lack of flirting ability, or egging me on.

“Very,” I said. “It was a great game, and the goal you made in OT was just so smooth! Personally, I found it very attractive” I said; I had spent the entirety of the game looking at Luke skating— the smooth and strategic moves he made on the ice, passing the puck back and forth as if he was moving in water. He was beautiful on the ice— weaving between the opposing team’s players quicker and way more efficiently to the point where they couldn’t even keep up with him.

“And I have to point out the pass you made to Jack in the second-half and the assist you sent to Nico! I haven’t seen a lot of puck work that really resembled that in such a while, and—” I cut myself off, trying not to let myself ramble any farther in front of the boy I could feel myself crushing on.

“I mean that’s really a high compliment, thank you,” he said. “I mean, I know this might not be entirely appropriate for the interview, but I’m free after this, if you are two?” he asked. This had to be some kind of cliche, I thought, not really thinking that he had just asked me out.

I did, however, hope he wasn’t egging me on— and, besides, after this profile came out, I wouldn't be covering the NJ Devils until next season, so why not? Why not spend an afternoon with a hot hockey player who I had already called cute? “You know what? I am also free, and I was going to get dinner, if you wanted to join me,” I responded, hoping the youngest Hughes would take me up on the offer too. “I also don’t have class tomorrow, so yes, I am very free after this,” I laughed.

The boy in front of me smiled up, pushing the curls falling in his face back, and saying a quick “Well, then let’s get this thing started.”

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine

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msbigredmachine · 6 months

Text

Say Cheese - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K.

PAIRING: Tribal Chief!Roman Reigns x OC

Warning: SMUT

Word count: 4.9k

Song Muse: "Sativa" by Jhene Aiko and Rae Sremmurd

————————

The audible smacking of lips and sliding of tongues was the seductive tune serenading the lovers, seemingly drowning out the actual song blaring from the speakers of the hotel suite. It started out with soft, gentle pecks, but ever so greedy, he’d taken it up a notch, kissing her more hungrily at the same time he lifted her up onto the kitchenette’s counter. That lethal tongue of his consumed the insides of her mouth, earning his deep chuckle at her needy moan as her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close.

“We are so bad, we should be at the party,” she giggled against his succulent lips, sneaking her hands behind the nape of his neck to tug his ponytail loose. “People are gonna notice we’re not there. ‘Specially you, Mr. Tribal Chief.”

He pulled away long enough to huff, “Well, that's on you. You’re the one who kept rubbin’ on my dick the entire ride back here, making me so hard everyone woulda seen it.” Picking up the half-drunk bottle of Cristal next to her, he took a large gulp before handing it to her. “Gon’ be boring as shit anyway. Fuck the party,” he added.

“Nah, I’d rather fuck you,” she stated, making her intentions clear, loving the way his eyes blazed at her bold statement.

“That’s my girl.” He showed his appreciation by tongue-kissing her slowly, coaxing her to follow his lead and match his energy. She wasn’t inexperienced at all, but each time they kissed, she felt like a virgin being taught for the very first time. Emboldened by the alcohol in her system and the passionate moment, her hips rocked back and forth, grinding against his prominent erection pressing between her parted thighs that his big hands caressed so lavishly, all while their mouths sought the depths of each other’s sensual taste.

It took Cleo Parker-Jones just three months after her main roster call-up to get Roman Reigns in her bed. It probably would have been quicker if it wasn’t for his part-time schedule and her focusing on proving herself on the blue brand. Whenever he did show up to work, they did not get too many moments alone. But each time they did, they made the absolute most of it. Flirty banter. Suggestive winks. Subtle caresses as they grew closer. Soon, she was sneaking into his locker room or his bus for intense make-out sessions that left them both breathless and hungry for more. The sparks flew between them and it was only a matter of when and not if they would seal the deal.

Of course they did, and it was glorious. The man was blessed by the dick fairy and he backed it up with incredible, toe-curling bedroom skills that challenged even her own renowned stamina and athleticism. The not-so-amicable end of her last relationship had left Cleo lonely and horny, and she knew right after having her first taste of the Tribal Chief that she wouldn’t be able to leave him alone. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, as he kept coming back for more…and more…and more…

Fast forward a rollercoaster of a year and she was now Miss Money in the Bank, Smackdown’s fastest rising star at twenty-six years old…and Roman Reigns’ sugar baby. Of course, the perks were perking…Traveling in Business Class or in his own jet, designer outfits and accessories, late-night lobster dinners in restaurants shut down just for them, phone bill and house rent paid up, luxury hotel suites like the one they were currently in, enjoying a little after-party of their own after ghosting the one downstairs. But there was nowhere else she would rather be, especially since he would be gone in the morning while Cleo wrestled around the country, missing him something fierce. She never thought she would be in this kind of relationship, but this fun, adorable, generous, criminally sexy older guy had her wondering why she’d never considered it. He took care of her, pampered her, and satisfied her every need. He made her feel like a princess and that was all she’d ever wanted in a man.

She pushed him firmly to catch her breath, lightheaded from his delicious kisses, and licked her plump and swollen lips while staring up at him. Her fingers found the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly flicking each one open to expose his smooth, bronzed, tattooed chest inch by inch, noting the way he shivered as her short acrylic nails gently scraped his skin. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his open shirt and his hair loose and wavy; he strongly resembled those romance novel cover models from back in the day.

“Let me down so I can suck on my favorite lollipop,” she requested.

Without hesitation, Roman picked her up off the counter and brought her down to her feet before him. Lowering down to a squat, she backed him up against the counter and relieved him of his slacks with nimble hands. Her darkened eyes leered at his erection bulging impatiently through his Nike briefs, the front stained with his arousal for her. Her fingers peeled the elastic waistband down his muscled thighs, his long, hefty dick almost slapping her in the face when she set it free.

Roman’s breathing quickened as Cleo curled her fist around the throbbing length, squeezing out the bead of precum that clung to the tip. Their hazy gazes locked as her tongue darted out to catch it, licking the underside of his cock before guiding him between her lips, coaxing a deep sigh out of the Samoan.

“Unnnh, shit, Cleo,” Leaning back against the counter for balance, he nearly knocked over his iPhone in the process. Jerkily groping for the device, he picked it up, glanced between his Home Screen and Cleo’s bobbing head, and a naughty idea came to him. Tapping his thumb on the screen to find the camera, he couldn’t hold back his moan when her image materialized through the lens, making his dick disappear in her hot mouth like a magician.

"Smile for the camera, baby, I wanna remember this..." he said.

Her big brown eyes fluttered in his direction, and he tapped the button, the snap sound capturing the image of her pouty lips sealed tight around his dick forever. He firmly gripped the back of her head, struggling to take the picture three more times as she sucked him deeper and harder.

"You can just record it," she pulled him out to say.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “For real?”

“Yeah. Have something to remember me by when you’re away from me.”

This was new. Sure, they’d exchanged dozens of nude selfies and some raunchy solo videos, but they were yet to put any of their sexscapades on film. His train of thought evaporated when a thick string of spit fell from her lips onto his milky brown length. His vision blurred as she then swallowed him up in one go, her sucking more audible from the gathering saliva, her hands twisting determinedly around his erection. As best as he could, he hurried to select the video setting on his phone and hit Record, his fingers digging into her scalp as the vibrations from her moans almost had his knees buckling.

“Aw man, that mouth is fuckin' goated, princess,” he encouraged, raising his phone higher to get a better shot of her working him. He loved it when she got into it like this, so nasty and with so much passion and concentration. “This what you been waitin’ for all night, huh? This big dick deep down your throat?” he taunted.

Cleo blinked up at him with her long lashes, her naughty smile stretched by his girth. He looked so hot, bare-chested, staring down at her with his hair falling over his face. She could tell he was close already, the veins in his dick seemed to spring to life and thicken in her hand. With every suck, she made sure to moan around his big beautiful cock and let her tongue slurp all over it for extra stimulation. Her goal was to drain him, to wring him dry and make him lose his sanity.

But not just yet.

Abruptly, she pulled away, sliding him out of her mouth with an audible pop as she said, “Okay, my feet hurt, I ain’t Megan Thee Stallion.” She raised her arms, gesturing for him to pull her back up.

Roman fought back a whine as his cock twitched pitifully from the sudden absence of her oral attention. Her annoyingly sexy smirk told him she was screwing with him again like she liked to, but he kept it to himself, inwardly promising to get his lick back. With shaking hands, he stopped filming and helped her stand up, watching her wobble a little in her high heels.

Her lilac-colored nails wrapped around the neck of the Cristal bottle as she picked it up for a sip, and poked out her tongue to let the drink drip from it. It was bait, and Roman seized it with a needy growl, lapping up the alcohol with his tongue and making a messy transfer from her mouth onto his. God, he had the tastiest kisses, even coupled with the bittersweet flavor of champagne. When he pawed at the obscenely low neckline of her dress and his mouth latched on to her hardened, bare nipple, her heart thrummed excitedly in her chest as that familiar feeling of desire bloomed within her.

“This dress is sexy as fuck, princess, but I want it off,” he demanded.

“You can take it off me, Daddy. Let’s go to the bathroom first. And bring your phone with you.” She took him by the hand and led him like a little boy across the large suite. Roman’s mouth watered as he watched her curvy hips sway from side to side as she walked. The things this girl did to him. It’s been a long time since he felt this way about any woman, since he’d been this happy and excited to be with someone. Initially, he felt like a dirty old man taking advantage of the beautiful, bright-eyed young starlet. But that reasoning was short-lived as Cleopatra proved from the jump to be more mature, more well-rounded and more in control than she liked to let on. He liked that a lot about his princess.

The backlit mirror in the fancy bathroom stretched over two sinks, the perfect backdrop for the sinfulness that was about to transpire. With a sultry smile, Cleo bent over one sink and pulled her dress up to her waist, exposing her black g-string nestled between her bountiful round globes. Using two fingers, she parted her folds and circled them gently over her labia, never taking her eyes off her big bad lover man, his phone recording her every move even though his eyes were glued to her soaking wet folds. With her slippery fingers, she rubbed her pussy before bringing them to her mouth to suck them like a pacifier, her moan low and sultry from her own taste.

"Mmm. Come closer, Daddy, I want you," she purred.

As he did, she took his phone and propped it up against the mirror in front of her, leaving the video running. His hulking form towered over her, his body molded into hers, his aching erection straining against her backside. His tongue darted out between his lips as his hands roamed her body. His expansive paws caressed her curves and the fleshy mounds of her ass, his thumb brushing over the phoenix tattoo just above her right buttock. Cleo loved that this Adonis of a man never seemed able to keep his hands off of her. Having done some work on her body, naturally and surgically, she hoped the change would take her places. Never did she think that said place would be in the arms of the face of the WWE. Her career progression, along with his constant attention, was validation that her investment was paying off.

"Look at the camera while I eat this pussy, baby," he instructed. He had the bottle of Cristal in his other hand, and he turned it over and poured the liquid all over her ass, drenching her already damp panties. She watched as he disappeared behind her, and a hiss slipped from her lips as she felt his mouth on her ass, kissing and biting softly. The feel of his long fingers squeezing her cheeks as he licked the champagne off her skin was incredible. He rolled her panties down to meet her stilettos and ran his hands up and down her smooth, toned legs, widening them to expose her wet, glistening pussy from behind. Her stomach fluttered and her loins clenched as he left a trail of big, wet kisses on her inner thighs.

"Your pussy is so pretty, baby girl. Just like you."

He started suckling her folds, using that godly tongue of his to split them apart and lap at her opening. The faster and deeper he moved his tongue, the louder Cleo moaned, all while doing her best to focus on the camera like he wanted. Fuck, his lips were so soft, his tongue warm and fat and heavenly as they worked together to devour her aching cunt.

The Tribal Chief reached around her front, slipping one hand between her thighs. Ignoring the throbbing of his cock reacting to her throaty moans, he pushed his middle fingers inside of her and pumped, reveling in the panting, whimpering mess he'd turned her into. She reached behind her to grab the back of his head, only for him to shove her hand away and slap her ass in warning. Cleo groaned loudly as his finger plunged deeper, nudging that sweet little spot that made her eyes roll back as the pressure built and built. She braced her hands on the sink and rode his face and fingers, grinding her hips until she couldn't anymore. She howled her pleasure as the orgasm quickly overtook her and she came in his mouth and all over his thick beard. The sensation so overwhelming that her legs nearly gave out where she stood.

"I need you to come like that on my dick," Roman murmured as he rose to his feet. Ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, he wrapped a steadying arm around her before guiding her face to his. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, swiveling nastily with hers, devouring each other as though only the other could quench their thirst.

"I can't get enough of you, Cleopatra. Every time I think I'm satisfied, the hunger comes back stronger." He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, letting her flowery scent fill his lungs. "Everything about you makes me so hard. I need you, baby girl."

His voice and his words caressed her heated skin with the same devastating effect as his hands on her. Suddenly, her dress was too tight, too constricting, prompting her to pull it over her head with his help and throw it somewhere far away. She gasped as he immediately reached for her breasts, rolling their softness in his callused palms. Her gaze flickered from the mirror to the camera and back, catching his eye as he winked slyly at her.

She yelped a little as he smacked her hard on her behind, once on each cheek. His hand print seemingly seared into her ass, but she didn't dare say a word. As she waited for his next move, he stepped back, though she could still feel the mass of his thighs warming her backside. Suddenly, she heard the frantic, sticky sound of his hand jerking his dick. She almost melted at his expression through the mirror, his eyes clouded over, his beard glistening with her cum, his lips parted as he pleasured himself right in front of her, holding out on her. As "Sativa" played in the background, Cleo began to throb and pulsate, the anticipation getting her wetter by the second. The fact that he was making her wait sent her hormones into overdrive. Her honey dripped, rolling down her thighs.

When he was done, Roman grabbed the phone and held it right above her backside. His free hand rubbed all over her round ass before he grabbed his dick and spanked it on her ass, feeling harder and bigger than before on her skin. Reaching behind her, Cleo pulled her ass cheeks apart to help him sink inside her with one long thrust. He stroked inside her at a moderate pace, relishing in her sweet cream already streaking his dick. The mirror gave them the perfect view and eye contact. They could see each other's faces when their expressions changed, feel the shudder of their bodies when they moved and when they moaned with pleasure. Damn, what a beautiful sight, all captured on camera for their viewing pleasure.

"Ya know what? Throw that ass back for Daddy," Roman spoke roughly, his large hand clutching her waist and slowly rocking her back and forth on his cock, "This fat, sexy chocolate ass...fuck my dick with it..."

Planting her hands on the marble surface to steady herself, Cleo bit down on her lip as pushed back against him, pausing every couple of seconds to grind on him because he liked it when she did that. More heat bloomed within her loins at the satisfied groans falling from his lips, as he brought his hand down on her ass yet again. Moaning softly, she bounced faster against him, her pussy gripping him tight with each slide inside her. He felt so good, made her feel so full and so ready to explode again as her walls massaged his girth.

"Like that, baby? You want it like that, my Tribal Chief?" she spoke breathlessly, "That dick feels so good Daddy...Oooh sh-"

Roman had grabbed her left leg and lifted it onto the sink, opening her pussy up to him. He held her down and pounded her hard from behind with drunken, reckless abandon. It did something to his brain when Cleo idolized him with all these pet names; Daddy, baby, Tribal Chief; it boosted his ego and made his dick harder knowing that he was indeed in God mode. As her reward, he delivered heavy, grinding strokes right up against her g-spot that intensified her cries and had her gripping the marble surface for dear life.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me where I'm at?" he said, angling the camera to view her flushed face.

"In my stomach." She could barely speak or think straight or even stay upright, weakened from the mindblowing pleasure surging through her. She lay slumped on the sink, her eyes closed, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she enjoyed him inside her. He knew he was hitting her spot whenever her long eyelashes fluttered and her heavy breaths actually stopped for a couple of seconds, her mouth open in a silent cry. His hand then wound around her throat, yanking her body up from the sink and against him with her back to his chest. Twisting her chin towards him, he covered her mouth with a hot, sloppy kiss, coaxing her moans out of her throat and into his. Blindly putting the phone back down, his hips accelerated, drilling her pussy with added force, their slapping wet skin reverberating around the bathroom. His fingers slipped south to strum her clit, making her body tremble, on the verge of complete collapse as each wave of ecstasy grew more incredible than the last.

"D-Daddy...Roman, fuuuuck!" she stuttered, clawing helplessly at his arm around her neck, trapped between the hard surface and his hard strong grip, unable to do anything but endure the dizzying tandem offence of his cock and his hand inside her.

"I can feel you, baby, you 'bout to come, ain't cha?" he asked, a husky groan slipping from his lips as her pussy tightened around him. "Unnnh god, you feel so good. Come for me babe, I want your cum all over my dick."

Cleo's moans dissolved into broken whines as he kept pummeling into her, nudging her closer to the edge until there was no room left and she toppled over headfirst. Her body jerked once, freezing and then shaking as liquid gushed out of her and all over his and her thighs. The ecstasy was blinding, numbing with its sheer intensity. "Shiiiit!" she cried out.

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout," Roman chuckled, letting her leg down and smacking her ass before spinning her around and lifting her to sit on the sink. His burly arms hooked beneath her knees, dragging her to the edge with his pelvis wedged against her clit. "Legs up, baby girl. Take the camera and watch Daddy fuck his pussy," he ordered.

Cleo licked her lips as she grabbed his phone, staring into the camera with unfocused eyes for a moment before directing it downwards to their naked, sweat-slick bodies. The Tribal Chief shuddered at the contrast of her pretty pink pussy against her russet skin. So fucking sexy. He rubbed his dick left and right like a windshield wiper over the fat, puffy pussy lips before patting her clit with it. "I'ma go nice and slow this time so you can feel all of me," he told her, groaning out loud as he slid in.

Chills ran down her spine as his magic dick stroked her right there, that lower sensitive part of her pussy that made potential orgasms creep in faster than usual. Roman knew exactly where that spot was, and he focused the pressure of his dick there, never stopping his onslaught.

"Shit...fuck that pussy, Daddy, fuck me, oooh yeahhh..." Cleo moaned, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of his dick beating her pussy up, testing the stretch of her walls. It felt so good that her grasp on his phone began to falter. Roman noticed, and he took it from her, extending his arm so that the camera caught the entirety of both their bodies, showing off his messy dick pumping in and out of her creamy pussy.

"Look at us, princess, look how good you take Daddy's big dick. Fuckin' beautiful," he said. She followed his gaze into the camera, honing in on his trademark smoldering lip curl that she always found so hot. Her pussy agreed, leaking just a little bit more for his benefit and hers.

With her arms braced behind her, her legs spread wide and looking right into the camera lens, Cleo watched her lover go to town on her, his dick finding the bottom of her pussy. His strong, toned hips bounced off hers, his increasingly ravenous strokes causing her walls to pulse around his girth. Searching desperately for something else to grab onto, she clutched the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down hard on hers. A clattering noise sounded, and she felt both his hands curl around her throat as he nipped at her lips, his tongue tangling with hers. When he pulled back, the light in his eyes was gone, completely blown with lust and need, and Cleo couldn't help but smile with pride. A warm thrill always rushed through her to see him like this; this huge, powerful, unflappable man losing all composure and control and losing himself in her and in the pleasure she was giving him. It was the biggest ego boost, probably a bigger achievement than anything she'd done in the ring, to know that no one else did this to him or made him feel like this.

Their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air while he rocked into her, his dick sliding in deeper with each roll of his hips. His phone lay unattended next to them, having dropped it in the heat of passion. Even as her climax loomed, Cleo still had the wherewithal to prop the phone back up against the wall facing them, not wanting to miss the money shot of their coupling.

"I'm 'bout to come, baby," Roman rasped, his movements intensifying.

"Me too, come in my pussy Daddy, come in me," she whimpered, her belly warming with the molten heat of an impending explosion.

Her breathless mewls propelled the snapping of his hips, his growls more uninhibited and desperate as he held her legs tighter and fucked her like an animal. Her head banged back against the mirror and her body arched into his with a keening cry, her nails digging into his biceps as her arousal crescendoed and splintered her into a hundred pieces. It felt like the music was playing directly in her brain from how hard she was coming.

"Yeah, come all over me, fuck, Cleo, I love this pussy so much. Daddy 'bout to come so hard for you, ah, mmmhhh..."

The jolt of his big frame and the thick grunt that followed gave him away. His thrusts stopped, and he held himself still inside of her, his head thrown back while he came inside the warm tunnel of her pussy, making the sexiest noises as he lost himself to unbridled pleasure. Cleo moaned with him as her body jerked from the force of his pulsing cock filling her up with his seed. She grinned lazily into the lens knowing that the entire scene was captured perfectly. As he crumpled in her arms, she left a string of kisses along his cheek and his neck, holding him close in a sudden desperate need to crawl into his skin as they descended from the incredible high together.

After the world had quieted and the room had stopped spinning, he straightened his back, kissing her before he pulled his dick out, watching his cum ooze from her pussy. She reached down to spread her pussy lips open while he picked up his phone again to get a closeup of the creampie that he created.

"Feed me our cum, Daddy," Cleo begged with her soft spoken voice. She watched as he swiped two fingers inside her and held up their joined fluids to her lips. Her mouth eagerly weaved around the digits, sucking and licking up their cum juices thoroughly, making him moan at the sexy visual.

"I've trained you well, my baby girl. You like this freaky shit just as much as I do," he teased, kissing her again as his arms wrapped around her waist. This was probably the part Cleo liked the best; the quiet after the storm, the cuddles and sweet butterfly kisses; basking in the afterglow as her love for him continued to blossom and deepen.

"You okay?" he asked, massaging her back in soothing circles as he looked at her.

"Mmm-hmm," she sighed blissfully in response.

"Mmm, that shit was fire, baby. Damn. I know that video is gonna be a masterpiece when we look back at it."

Cleo giggled in agreement, cradling his face in her hands and smoothing her thumbs over his beard, watching him visibly relax from her delicate touch. "Send it to me. I plan on having a lot of fun with it when you're not around."

"Dirty girl," he replied playfully with another sweet kiss, leaning down to help her take off her shoes. "Speaking of, what's TV like for you on Friday? It's the run-in angle from Damage Ctrl, right?"

"Yep. I'm off all through next week to sell the beatdown. Why?"

"Perfect. I'm at my place in Palm Springs for a week. Come meet me there after the show. I'll send you your flight details. Gabriel will take you to the airport and I'll come get you when you touch down. Bring a couple of bikinis and dinner dresses. You need some money for those, babe?"

Shaking her head no, she smiled the sweetest smile and hugged him. He spoiled her so much. She still had to pinch herself sometimes that this was her life. "You take such good care of me, Daddy. I lo-...I appreciate you."

If he caught the near slip-up, he didn't show it. "I appreciate you too. You should know by now that I love spending my money on you and taking care of you. So your fine ass better get used to it if you ain't."

Get used to it. She couldn't help but let her imagination run amuck at those words. Was it possible that he saw something more concrete between them? After all, they pretty much acted like boyfriend and girlfriend and most of the roster knew they were a thing. Deep down she longed for confirmation, but she also didn't want to ruin their great dynamic by overcomplicating it with an "official" label.

"Question. That video is in safe hands, right?" she changed the subject, making Roman snicker at the tinge of trepidation in her voice.

"Relax. The security on my phone is double-cheeked up," he insisted.

"You sure? Cuz I'mma smash your phone to pieces if I have to," she warned. "My folks will kill me if that video ever leaked."

Her cute little threat had him chuckling. She was so adorable. "Easy, tiger. It's safe, for mine and your eyes only. I'd never do anything to embarrass my baby girl." He stroked her chin gently, his eyes soft and filled with a warm, tingling emotion that brewed inside him only for this beautiful, exciting woman and seemed to grow stronger every day. He knew what it was, and he secretly prayed that it was not one-sided.

Their lips met once more in a gentle, sensual kiss that neither of them wanted to end. The disappointment sinking inside Cleo when he pulled away quickly vanished as he picked her up and carried her towards the shower. Again, she let him take her wherever the hell he wanted to. As long as she got to be with her Daddy, it didn't matter where they went. Sooner or later, with the right timing and persuasion, she would finally gather the courage to tell him she was in love with him.

THE END

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artbyblastweave · 1 month

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Okay, Time for that belated Shrinking Rae post-

In the comics, Shrinking Ray's "arc" (bearing in mind an extremely liberal definition of that term, they had exactly one scene showcasing this) was that he was implied to be developing an inferiority complex; he's not necessarily incompetent, but he's out of his niche, his clever shrinking-based plans kept getting upstaged by brute-force solutions from the more conventionally powerful heroes like Invincible. He's the scrawny, nerdy little guy with the joke powers, he never gets a win, and in most fights he literally isn't visible. In the fight with the Lizard League his death is framed as pathetic and ineffectual- there's one or two panels between "I'll make you pay!" and getting eaten alive by Komodo. All of this is doing a couple of things- it's emphasizing that again, this is in fact a story and setting where superheroes sometimes just die really badly with limited fanfare- a thing that IIRC hadn't happened since the original Guardians team wipe in issue 7. Second, it's an indicator that the new Guardians are structurally kind of on the ropes. They're heavily staffed by second stringers, they exact second they have to split their forces they suffer a 66 percent casualty rate, and that's with backing from two capes who aren't actually part of the team. Grim! Anyway, when they do the adaptation Shrinking Ray becomes Shrinking Rae, because they want to tweak the gender balance of the cast and the pun is too good to pass up. But I think that there was a reasonable reluctance to transfer the "arc" from the comics one-to-one, because to be blunt, "Ineffectual Nebbish Glasses-wearer who whines a lot and dies pathetically," paired with absolutely nothing else, is gonna read as misogynistic if the character is a woman now. So in the adaptation Rae is markedly more competent. We're introduced to her taking down a much larger opponent by fucking around inside his ear canal, which becomes a favored trick of hers. There are traces of the self-esteem thing- the visual gag where she physically shrinks about a foot when getting chewed out in the briefing- but the overall throughline isn't "look at this loser who somehow ended up on the guardians." In the Lizard League fight, she doesn't get eaten- she's deliberately trying to execute a Thanus maneuver and just fucks it up, seconds after successfully killing a different villain the same way. And there's a second where it looks like it might work, too, before hope is cruelly yanked away. Which makes for a markedly cooler death scene- but who died? What was actually going on with her? Anything? In some sense she's cooler, but it's kind of an undifferentiated cool. She had what, Six lines? Seven? On balance I think Rae is still doing her fundamental job in the story, which is to pad the Guardians roster for a while and have someone who actually dies and stays dead as a result of the Lizard League fight- but I think they definitely missed an opportunity to give her some more texture than her comic counterpart had. Part of me thinks that the show would have been a good place to go even harder on Shrinking Rae being in over her head, but in a considered way, to emphasize that the Guardians aren't well managed- maybe tie it into the tensions between Robot and Immortal regarding sustainable team management practices. Part of me thinks you should go the other way, that if you're gonna do away with the idea she's underwhelming you should blow up her role, have her actually say and do some things that affect the story or the team dynamic in any noticeable way, because as it stands she's kind of visibly siloed as the designated mauve shirt. I'm definitely of one mind that this showcases something I suspected was gonna bite the show in the ass, which is that they're (laudably) diversifying a secondary and tertiary cast whose main role in the source material is often to die badly or fade out of focus.

#invincible #shrinking rae #invincible spoilers #thoughts #meta #invincible comic #invincible season 2 episode 5 #800 words of meta on a character with six lines and a brooklyn accent jumpscare

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chrollohearttags · 9 months

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do you better, make it worse • j. kirschtein

watching his best friend mistreat you never sat right with Jean but luckily, he had plans to get your mind off of him once and for all.

content warning and themes: hospital AU, mentions of infidelity, EMT Jean, patient liaison reader, car sex, panty stuffing, hair pulling, choking, fingering, reverse cowgirl, daddy’s used a few times, calls reader slut (not in a derogatory way), squirting, full nelson, creampie

📝: in lieu of me bringing back one of my favorite stories, I’ve decided to once again put the cart before the horse (don’t say it) and revisit one of the dynamics in it. Besides, I’m on a heavy Jean kick lately so here we are.

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he couldn’t stand it….

honestly, he hated it. Hated the way you were treated, hated that you were being misled and hated that someone he called, not only his friend but thought of as a brother, was so casual and callus in hurting such a beautiful woman. Someone who made it her life’s mission to care and look out for others..advocate on their behalf and ensure that they were being cared for. Which was ironic at its finest degree, considering that for the three years (y/n) (l/n) dated Connie Springer; former high school basketball star turned paramedic, no one bothered to clue you in on the fact that he was being unfaithful. He was your very first love and granted, when you two graduated, the relationship seemed to grow. But as was his outside roster as well. While you were holding him down, helping him study and keeping him straight..all while doing your own thing, he was out doing you wrong. Laying up with this girl, texting that girl and having the nerve to come back to you as if everything were just fine. And being completely oblivious to his antics, you would’ve gone on with your business and not thought a thing of it..that all but changed when his best friend Jean came to you one day with a shocking confession and told you that your beloved boyfriend had been sleeping with other women. “This isn’t gonna be easy, (y/n). I’m sorry I kept this from you but I thought you should know.” Not only that, he had solid proof. Pictures, texts and everything…it was a devastating blow and you were riddled with all types of emotions. Anger, sadness, denial..this man had hurt you beyond comprehension and once you found out and confronted him, you let Connie know exactly how you felt. Then, you ended things. As hard as it was, you felt relief in knowing that you were no longer being made a fucking fool of. He was free to do as he pleased..it was no longer your problem.

even so, you were faced with another issue: loneliness. You stood firm in your boundaries and didn’t let Connie back in. Regardless of the fact that you two were now working for the same hospital and you’d see him often while walking the halls of the emergency room. Tending to patient’s non medical needs and getting feedback. In the time since you two split, you had grown prettier by the day; that beautiful dark skin glowing, curly hair getting thicker and so was that gorgeous body. Hitting the gym and gaining happy weight. Still, despite that. You longed for companionship. You wanted your person again and to be loved unconditionally. You wanted someone to take care of you…emotionally, spiritually and especially..physically. As terrible as it sounded, you needed someone to satisfy those carnal desires as well. Someone who would take that stress of a long day away and clear your head.

luckily, you had just the man for the job and in the form of a very familiar face. Someone who had all but saved you from further heartbreak and embarrassment. And now, he was going to help you once more…

“Did you miss me, baby? I missed you..”

“Yes..been thinking about you all day..”

while your ex pleaded and groveled for a second chance, you were sitting pretty in the backseat and lap of his best friend’s car..getting that wet little pussy stuffed full of his fingers! Those thick digits planted inside of your warmth as his tongue swirled the inside of your mouth..the two of you exchanging sloppy tongue kisses and saliva along the way. Another hand..one riddled with tattoos up to the forearm gently clutched your throat as to keep your eyes on him. Of course, you wouldn’t dare look elsewhere. Not when this fine ass man was treating you so well. Some would say that what you guys were doing was wrong or that he broke code between boys but he should’ve considered that while he was out with other women. Now, Jean was filling that void in more ways than one. For the past couple months, the two of you had been hooking up just like this and needless to say, once you got a taste of him, Connie was all but a mere afterthought..

instead, you couldn’t wait to get your fix of the man making out with you. Slowly, he’d work those fingers in and out of that tight little cunt..placing a trail of kisses along your earlobe and jawline, all while filling your head with sweet words. Telling you how pretty you looked and that you were gonna feel so good. That deep voice drops to a low whisper; causing you to clench around his knuckles. Hearing those sweet affirmations from a man who meant it was driving you crazy. “J-jean…baby. I—“ “it’s okay..I got you. Just keep riding those fingers, my love. Keep going, just like that.” All the while, he had snatched your top down to reveal those perky breasts of yours. Always sitting so pretty underneath your work uniform. It was many times when he thought about what you’d look like underneath and now, he was getting the chance. Even at his buddy’s expense!

“So fucking sexy…swear I couldn’t get you off of my mind. Thinking about holding you…kissing on this neck.” Just then, he’d tighten his grip on your throat and grunt in your ear; grinding that covered erect against your ass. “Filling you up. I just wanna make you feel good, baby. Hell of a lot better than he can...” Doting on you as he curled and pumped those digits around inside of you. He was like a feign, an addict for your love and sex. Jean would do whatever it took to ensure that you got off. Just by your moans alone, he knew you were close. He could sense it..that’s what it meant to awareness of your partner’s body. Something that Connie failed to grasp even after all that time of being together. He had done in three months what he couldn’t in three years. It was insane. However, as much as he desired to get you off, he had to get some action of his own! You could feel him growing larger by the second..practically swelling to be let out. Alas, he knew how much more well endowed he was in comparison to others you’d been with so he had to be gentle. Handle you with care as to not hurt you…but give you the pleasure you deserve. So with a swift motion, he’d unbuckle those black uniform cargos and shuffle them down his hips so that he had enough room to maneuver. Unsheathing that thick cock, he’d slap it against your half clothed, plump pussy lips; drumming up smacking noises as he had a finger hooked around your thong to keep them to the side. Your tits were exposed as well..the top part of your dress tugged down and bundled up around your tummy. He couldn’t wait to get a taste.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Put it in for me..” instructing as he grasped your waist and allowed you to raise yourself up. Those heels that he loved so much digging gently into his seat and aiding you in eventually riding him. As (y/n) lowered yourself back down, both of you released loud, breathy moans. The sensation of your juicy warmth and the fullness provided by his thick girth..stretching you out only seconds in. “Fuck..so fucking good..” clutching the side of the door and the driver headrest to balance yourself as you bounced up and down. Jean knew you were more than capable of handling it so he’d toss his head back and encourage you with all of those filthy words you loved. “There you go. Up and down, just like that. You’re opening up for me so nice..that dick feel good, babygirl?” Questioning in a sweet cooing tone, which had you melting within seconds. The way this man so lovingly cared for your body, you couldn’t help but to submit.

“It’s so good, daddy…never had dick like this. Oh my fucking—ahh!”

drawing out in whiny huffs and soft whimpers along with wetness, that was dripping all down his shaft. Eventually, the vehicle would begin to gently sway in that parking garage from the force of your moving bodies. Clawing into that leather upholstery, (y/n) continued to bog yourself down, taking those deep thrusts to the brunt. “I know..I know it’s a lot, baby. But you’re taking that shit so good..got you creaming. This is my pussy now. Isn’t that right? All mine?” Earning him a very swift ‘yes’ as you trembled and took him to the hilt. Only after he grasped your throat because you were too stuck to even form words. His fingertips tracing soft circles around your clit and those balls slapping against your opening. “That’s what I love to hear, pretty girl. Just keep fucking me…keep—shit!” Drumming out more of those breathy cries from your new boyfriend and deeper thrusts as he began fucking up into you. All but taking the reins and control as the feeling intensified. Eventually, he couldn’t hold still and although he thought that you were doing an amazing job, he needed to really get in it. Clutching the backs of your thick thighs, Jean would proceed to fold your legs up and bring your knees nearly up to his shoulder blades. It was such an insane position but one that felt nearly euphoric. Whilst he made certain each stroke made home inside of your sensitive core, you’d take the thin strings of those panties between your teeth and bite down. Sort of a makeshift gag for your loud cries as he began to pound upward into you. He was coming unglued, like a man unhinged and on a mission. He wanted you to feel every last inch of him. How much he craved you..how much he loved you and this beautiful body. He’d never be so foolish as to squander such a precious thing. Even if he was beating your pussy sore like you were a mere object. “..my little slut..letting me fuck you like this. I’m so thankful, baby. You're gonna come f’r me, right? Come all over this dick? Right here in this fucking car? You couldn’t even wait until I got you to my place. That’s how addicted I got you..” and there was no denying it! When you slung pipe like him, you had every right to brag on it. Regardless, he himself was desperate to release so he’d do whatever it took to coax you to your orgasm so he could reach his. He never allowed himself to come first because he wanted you to get off. Bringing a hand back to that swollen bud, Jean massaged it until you emitted muffled, distorted cries with that cloth tucked between your teeth. Your eyes flush and drip with slight tears from how full he had stuffed you. In a matter of minutes, porcelain colored cream had covered the entirety of his shaft and base, signaling that you were on the brink of reaching your peak. Calling out to him, Jean was quick to turn your head and quell those whispers with gentle kisses and soft caressing to the cheek. “It’s okay..hey, breathe with me, baby. Remember what I told you..” by now, he had hooked your legs into one arm and continued bucking his hips upward. You were both beginning to tap out..reach that final stride and it was only seconds after he patted your slit with gentle slaps did you begin to throb and he knew he couldn’t get another one in before you all but pushed him out so reluctantly, Jean would halt his movements.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Squirt on this dick..we’ll worry about the seats later. Fuck it.” Smirking as he watched your eye stretch and mouth gape as that slippery orgasm came barreling out of you; soaking everything within your vicinity. He was so satisfied in himself for completely wrecking you. Getting that body so hooked on him, you wouldn’t look back or around for another man ever again. Not even giving you ample time to recuperate, he’d penetrate that tightness once more, so that he could give you what you had been begging him for all week:

“Come in me..come in this fucking pussy, daddy..” Talking him through it as well with gritted teeth and tears rolling down your face. “Want me to nut in it, baby? Veins began to bulge from atop his forehead and Jean was breathing so heavily, eventually letting out a loud cry before spilling every last drop of that seed into your womb. Not stopping for an entire minute and remaining stuck between those walls many moments after. He wanted to enjoy you…be one for as long as possible. Tugging you back against his heaving chest, Jean snaked his tongue between your lips and fed you sloppy pecks before the two of you erupted into a soft chuckle against each other’s mouth. “I love you, Jean. I love you so much..” so proudly declaring as you ran your fingertips along his stubble ridden face. And there was no doubt in your mind that he felt the same. After all, it was him who showed you what that four letter word meant again after facing such heartbreak. But as long as you’d allow him to remain in your life…to care for you with all he had…

“I love you more, pretty girl. Don’t ever forget it.”

he’d make you the happiest woman alive. Even if it meant hurting his best friend to do so! Just then, your love fest was interrupted by a faint buzzing on the heated seats. That’s when you’d both look down to see your phone illuminating with a very familiar contact:

Connie: I miss you (y/n)..please call me. I’m sorry.

but needless to say, he wouldn’t be getting a reply any time soon.

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

omg i was on cai (yes, i'm a loser) and did like a sexy bully scene in a janitor's closet... imagining that with sevika. like reader on their knees, sev's hand gripped in reader's hair to direct her where she wants, sev having to move reader's head when they get too tired... BROOO IM SO HORNY :(

no, i wasn't horribly bullied by beautiful girls during the most important years of my social development, what could possibly give you that impression?

men and minors dni

sevika hates you. that's a fact.

you started working for silco a few months ago, and for a while, sevika treated you like anyone else on the crew: a little cold and curt, but nothing targeted, she was just a busy woman who didn't have time to mince words.

you don't know what you did, but two months into your employment, a switch flipped seemingly overnight, and sevika suddenly had it out for you.

it started subtly. she kept giving you the shittiest, longest assignments on the roster, making you do grunt work even though you were nowhere near the strongest on the crew. you didn't say anything... you were the rookie, you had to earn your place.

but then it got worse. every time you'd talk in front of sevika, she'd roll her eyes and scoff. any ideas or comments you made at crew meetings were met with immediate denial and an insult thrown your way.

on your off hours, when the crew'd invite you to hang out at the last drop with them, sevika would get up and leave the table when you sat down.

in the hallways, if it's just you and sevika, she'd shove past you far too aggressively, sending you slamming into the wall opposite you.

and then the teasing started.

your looks, the way you talk, the things you say-- everything you do was spun into an insult and taunt by sevika. she even made fun of the way you breathe one time.

you don't know what you did to her to make her hate you.

you try your best to keep your head down and avoid her.

it only makes her angrier.

she doesn't hit you, but she shoves and pushes and trips you at any opportunity she can get. on a particularly memorable day, she even pulled on your hair.

you don't get it. neither does the rest of the crew.

you're getting fed up with it.

it comes to a head one afternoon at the last drop.

you're chatting with ran about a new mission at the bar.

"what if we came in from behind? one team out front to distract them, and then we ambush them through the back?" you ask. ran huffs and looks down at the blueprints for the building you will be raiding soon.

"that could work, we'd have to--"

"that's the stupidest fucking idea i've ever heard." sevika says, suddenly appearing beside you and ran.

ran bites their lip to keep from laughing at the sour look that takes over your face.

"i'm gonna fuckin' kill her one of these days." you mumble under your breath to ran. they chuckle.

"what was that?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and turn around to face her.

"i said, what the fuck is your problem with me?" you ask. sevika blinks. "i don't know what i did to make you hate me but i'm sorry! fuckin' get over it!" you say. the bar goes silent. sevika growls. you gulp.

suddenly, she's got your arm in her hand as she drags you out of the bar and flings you into the liquor storage room.

fuck. you think. i guess this is how i die.

you hold your hands up, ready to block sevika's blows, cringing away from her as she stalks toward you.

sevika chuckles darkly, smacking your hands away and then stepping into your space.

"you think i hate you?" she asks. you scoff.

"what else am i supposed to think?" you ask. sevika grins, and then she's kissing you.

you freeze. your brain short circuits. sevika pulls away with a smirk.

"what the fuck?" you whisper. she chuckles, then pushes you backwards.

your back hits a shelf, and bottles clink from the impact. sevika saunters over to you as she slowly unbuckles her belt. you gulp.

"w-what are you doing?" you ask. sevika chuckles.

"i think you know." she says. "you're not that stupid." you lick your lips subconsciously. sevika smirks. "get on your knees." she commands. you gulp and shakily lower yourself down to the ground.

fuck. you've never considered it before, too busy defending yourself from her to notice, but sevika's fucking hot. especially now, as she towers over you and shoves her pants down her thighs.

her cunt's glistening, like she's been teased all day. you gulp, and then look up at her.

"...you gotta crush on me, sev?" you ask. sevika growls.

"no!" she spits. you smirk, your eyes trailing back down her happy trail to admire her bushy cunt.

"you sure?" you ask with a giggle. "'cause it looks like--"

"shut the fuck up." sevika grunts as she grabs your head and shoves your face between her legs.

you moan, immediately opening your mouth to suck sevika's swollen clit between your lips. sevika sighs and starts rocking her hips incrementally against your face.

it gets messy quickly. sevika's dripping wet, and soon her arousal and your spit start dripping down your throat. her thrusts get wilder, until she's just riding your face.

she's got both hands on your head, guiding you where she wants you, scratching against your scalp.

she's making... cute noises. you never considered that sevika could even be cute, but the little whimpers and whines she lets out when your nose nudges against your clit, and the moans she lets slip when your tongue nudges against her g-spot-- she's adorable. you moan against her cunt, and sevika's thigh twitches.

"f-fuck." she whispers. you chuckle against her and flick your eyes up to meet hers. "shut up." she grunts. you roll your eyes. "can't fuckin' stand you." she grunts as she humps against your mouth. "so fuckin'-- shit just like that-- so fuckin' pretty." she grunts. you whine against her, your hands clawing at her thighs. "wanted to do this for months, baby, shit." she moans.

she's getting close, you can tell. one of her hands is still on your head, but the other reaches up to grab the shelf behind you to support herself.

"i-- fuck i'm gonna-- shit!" she grunts. "fuck! quit-- quit lookin' at me like that." sevika grunts out. you chuckle against her and blink up at her innocently. "fucker." she spits. you moan. "fuck, you piss me off. walkin' around all pretty, distractin' the shit outta me-- fuck i hate you."

you raise a skeptical eyebrow at her from between her legs and she whines.

"f-fuck off!"

sevika cums with a gasp, her legs twitching and her cunt soaking your face as she rides out her orgasm against your face. when she stops her grinding, you continue your ministrations, lapping up her cum and kissing her twitching clit. sevika pushes you away harshly, then grips you by the nape of you neck and pulls you back up to your feet.

you're both panting, staring each other down as you catch your breaths. you start giggling as the reality of the situation hits you. sevika rolls her eyes.

"fuck off." she says. you laugh and pull the hem of your shirt up to wipe your face and neck clean from her cum. when you ring it back down, you expect to see sevika's retreating figure. instead, she's still standing in front of you, staring at you.

"what?" you ask. sevika sighs and rolls her eyes.

"i don't--" she huffs. "i don't hate you." she says. you laugh.

"yeah, i gathered that."

"shut up." she says. you expect this to be the end of it, but again, sevika surprises you. "i'm sorry i've been shitty." she says. you shrug.

"i'm sure you'll figure out a way to make it up to me." you tease her. sevika doesn't laugh though. instead she hesitantly reaches out and grabs your hand in hers.

"how's dinner sound?" she asks. you blink.

"what?" you ask.

"dinner. like a date." she says. you blink again.

"what?!" you ask again. sevika groans.

"just answer the fucking question!" she says.

"you always this mean to the girls you're trying to fuck?" you ask. sevika rolls her eyes.

"no." she says. "but..." she starts, then cuts herself off. you raise an eyebrow at her. "i don't just wanna fuck you." she whispers. "i... i don't normally feel this way about people. i don't know what to do with it." she says.

a smile starts creeping up your face and you dart forward to peck sevika on the cheek. she blushes.

"dinner's a good start." you say. sevika gulps.

"yeah?" she asks. you laugh and lean forward to kiss her lips. she sighs against you.

"yeah." you whisper against her lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika smut

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dailyadventureprompts · 17 days

Note

Hi! I really like your other takes on Underdark races, and wanted to ask if you had any thoughts on improving grimlocks? Beyond the permanent blindness they have and the whole being humans who adapted to the underdark, there doesn't seem to be a whole lot else done with them.

Monsters Reimagined: Grimlocks

Would it surprise anyone to learn that a d-list d&d monster has It's roots in 1800s ideas about eugenics and bad adaptations of genre fiction? No? Then you've been paying attention, top marks.

Asker is absolutely right in their assessment that there's not really much to grimlocks. They're one of many "hostile tribal primitives" that have filled out the monster roster ever since the original developers lifted them en mass from the pulp adventure stories they grew up reading.

A common theme among these pulp works and the early scifi that inspired it was devolution, the idea that a people could degrade from greatness back into an animistic nature. The most well known pop culture example would be HP lovecraft's deep ones, where the author's fears of race mixing manifest as monsters that literally push humanity back down the evolutionary ladder to the stage of fish.

There's plenty of different ways to explain the origin of this writing trend, but I like to chalk it up to an anxiety resulting from the widespread acceptance of Darwin's theory of evolution by a society that believed wholeheartedly in scientific racism. If intelligence (read: whiteness) wasn't just a god given right but was infact inheritable, then it could also be disinherited, bred out of a population whether by on purpose or by accident. This made it so important to practice good breeding (read: eugenics), to preserve the pure stock from falling to degeneracy (read: miscegenation) and introducing undesirable traits into the genepool.

We can see fear this with grimlocks, humanoids who were inherently lessened by their "adaptation" to life underground, losing their intelligence and eyesight and descending into a state of barbarism. Given that this is one of the few d&d monsters that mention evolution at all, we can trace this feature to their likely inspiration: The morlocks in H.G. Wells' Time machine, published a scant 36 years after Darwin published The Origin of Species.

I'm not well read enough to know whether Wells pioneered the idea of subhuman descendants, but I can say that most of his imitators missed the point of his writing: Wells saw in his day an increasingly indolent upper class inflicting brutal and dehumanizing labour conditions on the poor to support their own carefree lifestyle. He satirized this in his book by showing that while the descendants of the rich had devolved into beautiful, useless, idiots, the descendants of the workers devolved into subterranean ape-things who maintained the machinery that allowed the eden like existence of the rich while farming them for meat. Say what you will about Wells' race politics (Neither degenerate fop or inbred ape can withstand the smarts and strength of the enlightened colonial Englishman) but his writing was specifically class continuous, and the brutality of the morlocks was a direct result of the exploitation of working people in his own day and age.

When the morlocks were adapted into the grimlocks , the d&d writers kept their canibalistic streak but specifically removed their class based origins as well as their mechanical knowhow. This is a near identical process to what happened with a creature the worlocks helped inspire: Tolkien's orcs, which were likewise turned from a commentary on the brutality of the industrial age into warlike primitives. It's a bit of a trend.

If you wanted to "fix" the grimlocks I'd go one of two ways:

If you want to engage with themes of primality, make them legit underdark dwelling primates/australopithecus type of creatures, just figuring out tool use and language. Make the rumours of them being descended from cave-exploring humanoids a common myth made up by surface dwellers.

If you want to get spicy about it though, give them back their mechanical aptitude and maybe mix in a few more dashes of pulp "lost civilization" ancient aliens nonsense. Have them dwell in great mechanical complexes beneath the earth, worker drones who've long outlived the creatures that enslaved them and scribed mechanical knowledge into their very being. Originally denied understanding of the machines they toiled to build, work, and maintain, the grimlocks jealously guard the science they've spent generations reverse engineering, giving them the reputation of being violently territorial for those underdark travelers who venture too close to the megastructures they inhabit.

Artsource

#monsters reimagined #grimlocks #the orc dissertation #underdark #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 6 months

Text

anon asked:

Hi! It says on your description thing that your requests are open? ( I’m sorry for this if they’re closed :’) )

I read your request rules and it said you take poly kiribaku and I was wondering if you could write a scenario of kiribaku with a fashion designer reader? reader makes them suits and an outfit for themselves from scratch for an event? Just kinda funny fluffy stuff with reader slowly getting more annoyed at them not cooperating ( mainly Bakugou cause he’s Bakugou lol ) but still managing to finish and make them cool suits and an outfit for themselves too :)

I’ve had this lil idea in my head for months now and I love your writing, so if you think you could do something with this I’d be very happy :)) ( sorry for the long request, if you don’t want to write this I wouldn’t mind, also sorry again if your requests are closed :’) )

thank you! :))

a/n: so sorry its a bit short anon, but i did what i could!

w.count: 1.1k

your office was currently a mess. an organized mess but a mess nonetheless and katsuki made sure you knew that by his sneering. it wasn't unusual for either of your boyfriends' to stop by your workplace for various reasons. forgot your lunch, bringing you papers you needed, maybe repairs to their hero suits since your stitching 'holds up better than others'. still, this time you were the one to strong-arm them into both coming by. or rather, strong-arm katsuki, since eijirou had no issues in popping by when you called.

your work office was filled with used and unused mannequins, your main desk, a separate desk littered with fabric scraps, your sewing machines, and straight pens left, right, and center. there was also a quiant little loveseat with two comfortable cushions you have for visiting clients.

that very loveseat is where both your boyfriends' currently parked their asses. you standing in front of them with your hands on your hips and a tape measure gripped in your palm.

"i dont see why we need all new shit," katsuki groans, his arms on the back of the loveseat, looking away from your unimpressed scowl. eijiou curls his lips in to try- and fail- to conceal the amused look on his face.

you had called them both here because of the next hero gala. the dates were finally sent out to those permitted to attend, and both of their names were on the roster. of course, they would be going- mostly because katsuki's pr team begged him to- and since they got to bring plus ones along, you would also be with them.

the two of them have always been wearing store bought formal wear or renting suits, but this was literally your area of expertise! you would get measurements from the two of them if it was the last thing youd do before making them outfits they can freely keep for such occasions.

eijirou had no qualms about the whole process. in fact, his measurements went smoothly aside from him flexing his arms when you were trying to get their circumference.

"yes, you're very muscular babe, now relax your arm or so help me," was what he got in return to his playful tomfoolery. checking off his waist and hips was also filled with banter since at least three times he had hugged you and kept joking about how he wasn't just going to not when you were right in front of him. that would be far too many wasted opportunities.

katsuki had been scrolling on his phone the whole time eijirou was prolonging his process by playing harmless pranks and showering you in goofy affection as he does. you almost wished you had measured him last to get the stubborn fool that is katsuki over with first though.

now, here you stand, impatiently waiting for him to get his ass up and get started.

"katsuki," you warn, his head tipping back in a groan. "i've got all day," you tell him as if you weren't bothered in the slightest. you were though, and annoyed to boot. while you did in fact have time, that doesn't mean you want it to be wasted in a battle of wits.

"what's the damn point of taking measurements? we've got plenty of shit at home to wear."

"no, you don't. I do, but you guys have nothing properly formal enough for a gala, and im sick of renting suits when i can just make something and save some money in the process. do you know how expensive it is to rent a suit? no, because you're loaded, so up."

"i did enough of this kinda shit growin' up, i aint dealing with it when im not even livin' with my folks anymore."

you roll your tongue across your teeth, squeezing the space between your eyes with your fingers and holding yourself back.

"come on, kats, don't be such a fun sponge," eijirou tries to help. knocking him lightly in the side with his elbow, katsuki just huffs and looks at the nearest clock as if gauging when your workday was supposed to end and how long he can keep this up.

"fine," you heave, tossing your measuring tape at his chest before it flops onto his legs. "have it your way."

"that's what I tho-"

"I'll just call mitsuki and she can give me your measurements." there was a slight pause after your claim settles into the air you three occupy.

"what?" he almost sounded like he didn't believe you. but oh how serious you are.

"go on, shoo." you walk back towards your main desk with your computer and grab your purse where you start digging around for your phone. "i have a phone call to make, so go somewhere else if you're not going to be useful. oh, eijirou you can stay though if you want."

"hey!" katsuki, pulling his arms off the back of the couch, both offended that he was being kicked out while his boyfriend got to stay and miffed because- were seriously going to call his mom? over his measurements? god, who knows what else could come out of that hag's mouth if you call her asking for that. the last thing he needed was you and his mother commenting on how small his waist was or worse.

you plant yourself in your desk chair and pull over a notepad and pen to write down the oncoming numbers you would be getting one way or the other. katsuki springs from the loveseat when he sees the phone line start dialing from across the room against your cheek.

the phone rings twice and you're ready to apologize for calling in the middle of the work day when she picks up, but before you could your phone was ripped from your hand and away from your cheek.

"wha- katsuki!" you utter in disbelief.

"ignore this," he huffs before hanging up the call and tossing your tape measure into your face.

"take your stupid ass measurements, but you don't get this back for a while." the blond tosses your phone over to kirishima who had been gleefully watching the free entertainment. the red head catches it easily and safely tucks it into his pocket.

"traitor," you send his way across the room and he just shrugs.

"sorry, boyfriend's orders."

"that's right," katsuki backs him up with his arms crossed and you return the sentiment by jabbing him in the side with the back of your pen. "now hurry up, this offer expires soon."

"i hate you," you groan as you get up and untangle your measuring tape to start the process of finally getting what you needed.

"no you don't."

"i wish i did."

"liar."

"shut up, im concentrating."

he hates to admit it, but the group of coordinating matching outfits you three all wear to the gala weeks later was totally worth pushing your buttons for. plus, it was cute to rile you up sometimes.

(mitsuki did call his cell later that day to explain why it's incredibly rude to hang up on his mother. he hung up on her again.)

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku fluff #kiribaku x reader fluff #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x y/n fluff #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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m2ok · 1 year

Text

Exhausted

John Price x M!Reader

A/N: Alright alright this is my last Price fic I promise I’ll do a different character next lmao. It’ll probably be Ghost or König and it’ll have a bit more plot :) I think before I write the actual fic I’ll do headcannons of some of the characters just to get some more boys on the roster :P

You couldn’t get the damn man out of your head no matter how hard you tried, you knew it was wrong and you tried desperately to push your feelings aside but it just wasn’t working. So you figured that if you kept yourself preoccupied with work you wouldn’t have to deal with these invasive thoughts.

It was embarrassing, you thought, to lose yourself so deep in a crush like you were a school boy all over again. To be kept awake at night because of a silly little crush on your superior. A crush that you knew couldn’t be reciprocated.

But you were only human, and you could only push yourself so far. What had started as just a little bit of over time had devolved into sleepless nights and poorly prepared meals. Frankly, you were running on empty and you were just about to crash. It was clear to see, but most of the 141 team decided to let you handle it on your own. You were a grown man, they figured you’d take a break soon enough.

Most of the team had let you handle it on your own. Of course with your luck Captain Price had been watching you push yourself to your limit and then right over the edge. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he called you into his office. And it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he told you to take a rest.

“Y/n, you can barely walk a straight line. You need a break”

his voice was firm, unwavering, yet it held that touch of concern and softness. You could’ve sworn you saw something almost akin to gentleness in his eyes, something just for you. But that was just your tired brain playing tricks on you right?

“No…no Price-Captain” you’d correct yourself “really I’m fine, I’m just a little out of it today” it was obviously a lie, one he clearly didn’t believe as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re about ready to fall right over” he nodded towards the wall you were supporting yourself on “you’ve barely been eating, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and your hands are shaking so hard you look like you’re gonna have a caffeine induced heart attack”

You opened your mouth again to refute him, but were quickly stopped as he put a hand up signaling for you to shut it.

“I’m not negotiating, Soldier. It was an order not a request”

And what could you say to that? It’s not like you could argue any further. He noticed the defeated look in your eyes…why were you so insistent on pushing yourself so hard? Why wouldn’t you take a single break? He didn’t know, but he was determined to find out. It had to be something big if you were so upset at being told to take the day off.

“Come on..” he said as he lead you through the door. “I’ll walk you to your room” he figured if he just let you go you’d probably at least try to sneak some paperwork on your way back.

You followed behind him silently, your heart hammering so hard in your chest you were afraid he’d be able to hear it. You’d been avoiding exact scenarios like this one. Where it’s just you two alone. Where you couldn’t help but let your gaze drift to his hand and wander what it would be like if he held yours, held you. Your face flushed red at the thought, and you looked down to try and avoid him seeing it.

It wasn’t long before you got to your room, and you made quick work or opening the door and walking in. Though much to your surprise, Price walked right in after you. You looked at him with a curious gaze as he closed the door

“What? You think I’d trust you not to find something to do in here? I’ve gotta make sure you actually take a break” he’d tsk as he motioned towards your dresser

“You get changed and I’ll go get you some food”

You’d only give him a slow nod, your tired brain trying to understand this situation as you grabbed a pear of plain black sweatpants and a random gray T-shirt. As you began to undo the laces on your boots, Price left the room.

You were fast to change out of your uniform and into the pajamas, slipping the shirt on over your head right as Price walked back in with a tray of food in his hands.

“Isn’t that better?” He’d say off handily as he saw you in your comfy clothes. It seemed as though his eyes stayed on you just a little longer than normal, like they lingered for a few seconds longer before he’d finally look away and set the plate down on a little table.

You, again, didn’t put up much of a fight as you sat down and began to eat. Honestly…you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you started eating. As soon as you took a bite the feeling hit you like a truck, and you were making quick work of cleaning your plate.

“That’s a good lad” he’d say, laying a gentle handle on your shoulder.

You were sure he didn’t think much of it, but god those words had you reeling. It was so simple too, they slipped through his lips so easily and it shouldn’t have this power over you but it did. And suddenly you realized again why you had been working so hard. You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t handle these little touches and soft words of praise when you knew it didn’t mean anything. It may have been dramatic, but it felt worse than the actual torture you’d endured.

You were at your breaking point between these feelings you’d let yourself fall too deep into and the exhausting that wracked your body. His compassion did little to push away what you felt for him, and it only causes to the problem. You were desperate to get him out of your room, anywhere away from you really.

He seemed to take notice of how stiff you had gotten, because of course he did, and the hand that was on your shoulder came to rest on your thigh to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright, y/n?” He’d ask, his brows furrowed in worry as he waited for your answer.

You could only shake your head no at first, turning to look at the man as you shoved his hand off of your thigh.

“I can’t do this” you’d whisper

“Do what?” He’d press, wanting to know what had tipped you to this point.

“This!” You gestured vaguely between the two of you

“Fuck, every moment I have alone I think of you! I don’t know why and-and I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it! God, it’s been eating me alive. These stupid feelings won’t go away no matter how far I push them and-“

You were cut off abruptly as you felt lips on your own. they were chapped and just a little bit uncoordinated like he’d been out of practice for a while. You should’ve pulled away, been a stronger man and stop this, but you couldn’t. Not when it felt so right.

You melted into the kiss, eyes slowly shutting as you reached up to cup his face, his own hands going to rest at your waist. You only pulled away when you both needed air, little pants filling the room from how frenzied it all was.

You looked to him for an answer when you finally caught your breath, eyes blown wide and confused as you stared at the man.

“You were rambling” he whispered at first “And…I feel the same way. Have been for a while now, but I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable incase you didn’t feel the same”

His explanation was simple, right to the point. You were still trying to take everything in, so the straightforward answer seemed to ease you down from that breaking point you were at just seconds. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, the fatigue suddenly overwhelming your body again as you just leaned into him.

You’d rest your head on his shoulder, practically nuzzling into his neck as he held you close. He’d press a soft kiss to your forehead before slowly pulling away to stand you both up, much to your dismay.

“You’re tired, love” the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily it made you swoon, a giddiness suddenly engulfing you as you let him lead you towards the bed.

He’d take his boots off and toss them towards the door before he laid down on the bed, soon grabbing your wrist to yank you down with him.

You couldn’t help but shove yourself into his side, soaking up all the new found warmth and love you could while he wrapped his own arms around you. Your legs entangled together as you pulled the blanket up around your bodies, a content sigh leaving you as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew you had a lot to talk about when you woke up, logistics to work out and decisions to make about how to move forward with this, but for now you just wanted to bask in the coziness that was John Price. And he seemed to want the same as he gave you a little squeeze, before he closed his eyes.

You were quick to follow, tossing your arm around his body as he has yours. Your eyes shut and within moment you were out like a light, your body relaxed and your brain finally quiet for the first time in days.

As always, request as open

#john price x male reader #john price imagine #john price x you #john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price #cod imagine #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x male reader #captain price X male reader #cod modern warfare #fanfic #male reader

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caashmoneynae · 5 months

Text

FAMILY AFFAIR.

JOEY BADA$$ x @thatone-girly 🤎

SUMMARY: in which Jo-Vaughn persuades Bianca to go on a family trip with him and their son. little does she know, the trip was a plot to get her back. ✨

❦

"𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡' 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢' 𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗗𝗔𝗬, 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟," Bianca chuckled, folding up the clean and dry colored laundry, as she shook her head and Nia laughed at her reaction, "okay, finish the story. tell me how the date ended."

"okay so, after him talkin' about himself the whole date and not even giving me room to talk, reply, add on to what he was sayin' — nothing at all, the waiter came and dropped our bill off. after he paid for our food, this muh'fucka' said "you the quiet type, huh?" and bitch... when i tell you it took everything in me not to yell at that man inside that restaurant with all them white folks in there," Nia exhaled dramatically, curling her ginger hair, as Bianca let out a giggle and folded her cropped tank top, "that man was literally about to have me lookin' like a crazy ass mad black woman! like, nigga, this ain't no Tyler Perry movie!"

"and i'm not bitter. i'm mad as hell!" Bianca mimicked, quoting a line from "Diary of a Mad Black Woman", as she and Nia laughed in sync and Nia slightly jumped from almost burning her hand with her curling iron.

"bathe him, feed him, clothe him... uh, stop makin' those bubbles," Nia quoted, pointing her curling iron at her phone, as Bianca giggled and sat the folded laundry inside the large white basket, picking it up and tucking it under her arm while she grabbed her phone and headed for the staircase, "it's safe to say that i ain't go home with him and i blocked him when i got home. i can't stand a chatterbox ass nigga that don't give me room to talk, B. i'm so glad i drove myself there because i'll be damned if i'ma let him see where i stay."

"preachhh. it's one thing for me to do all the talking and you to talk back or for us to evenly engage in conversation, but it's another thing for you to do all the talking and i ain't got one word in! that shit gets annoyin'," Bianca exclaimed, shaking her head, as she walked into Kamari's — her 5-year-old son — room and sat the laundry basket on his toddler bed, "so, where you 'bout to go? 'cause i know you ain't gettin' dolled up for no reason."

"i'm surprised Joey even let you date with how obsessive he is over you," Nia joked, smirking, as she playfully winked at her phone and Bianca chuckled while she put away her son's clothing, "but i got a brunch date with this lil' white boy on my roster. i ain't never dated outside my race before, so we gon' see how this go."

Joey — also known as Joey Bada$$ or just Jo-Vaughn — was Bianca's baby father and old boyfriend. they were like two peas in a pod until they broke up a week before his tour for his '2000' album started. there was no bad blood in the breakup because the two just felt like they had drifted away from each other and were no longer compatible. they remained friends and still kept in contact with each other since they had a son, and they co-parented so well that most people still thought they were together, which the two of them were grateful for because it kept the media off their backs.

neither of the two wanted to be posted on blogs just because they broke up, so they continued to front for social media like they were still together, even though you could clearly tell they weren't.

despite this, Bianca still tried to branch out and date other men, but it never worked out because Jo-Vaughn would always find a way to chase them away, and sometimes Kamari would chase them away as well. ever since April — specifically, after he dropped his R&B single "Fallin'" — he had been trying to get Bianca back, and so far his attempts had been unsuccessful because Bianca didn't feel a desire to return to him. sure, he was an amazing boyfriend and an even better father, but Bianca believed that the two were better apart than they were together.

as long as their son was happy, she felt no need to return to his father, despite his numerous attempts of trying to romance her and make her his again.

"listen... we don't talk about that, okay? i'm lucky i managed to keep the boy i'm talking to now," Bianca chuckled, shaking her head, as she closed Kamari's closet and shut one of his drawers while she picked up the laundry basket and headed to her bedroom, "and girl, it's like 5 o'clock in the afternoon, what you mean 'brunch'? but okaaaay, i see you with the white boy on ya roster! you better work, Kali!"

"you a whole fool! but like i said, we goin' to brunch, i don't care what time it is and neither does he," Nia laughed, unplugging her curling iron, as she pushed her curled hair behind her shoulder, "and if i know Joey like i think i know him, he gon' run ole' dude off next, trust me. wait, speaking of him, where my nephew? i wanna see lil' KJ before my date, he's my good luck charm."

the "ole' dude" Nia was referring to was Malcolm. he and Bianca had been talking for about two weeks and had been taking things slow since he had just gotten out of a relationship. he was sweet, caring, had manners, and was good with kids since he had two nieces, and that alone made Bianca fall for him harder every day.

there was no doubt in Bianca's mind that Jo-Vaughn knew about Malcolm, but since he had never brought him up, she assumed that he didn't know.

little did she know, she was completely wrong.

"K is with his daddy. you know this week was his week to have him," Bianca chuckled, sitting the laundry basket on her king-sized bed, as she began to put away her clothing, "they should be here in a few minutes tho', the sun 'bout to start settin' in about an hour or so."

"take a picture of him for me and send it to me 'cause i ain't got a few minutes to spare, i got a date to go on," Nia advised, chuckling, as she put away her now cold curling iron and grabbed her phone, "i'ma call you later on tonight to tell you what happens, and if you don't receive a call from me tonight, i got covered in snow."

"Nia, please get off my phone with that shit," Bianca laughed, shaking her head, as Nia giggled and playfully stuck her tongue out at her, "have a good time playin' with ya snowman, Ni'Ni."

"shit, hopefully. bye, mamas!" Nia smiled, waving her goodbye, as Bianca smiled at her and let out a chuckle before waving back to her.

"bye, sunshine." as the call ended, Bianca chuckled at her friend's behavior and she shook her head as she put away her undergarments, tucking them inside a drawer before her doorbell suddenly rang and her head raised at the sound of it.

shutting the drawer, Bianca grabbed the laundry basket and carefully jogged downstairs as she headed to the laundry room, sitting the basket in the corner of the room close by the dryer while she speed-walked to the front door. unlocking and opening the door, Bianca was immediately greeted by Kamari hugging her leg, making the light-skinned woman smile widely while she bent down to pick him up.

"hi, papaaa!" Bianca smiled, wrapping her arms around him, as she kissed his cheek and Kamari giggled in her arms, "you had fun with Daddy this week?"

"yeah! we played gamesss, went out to eattt, and— Mommy, i made some friends at the playground!" Kamari smiled widely as Bianca let out a soft chuckle at his enthusiasm and ran her fingers over his neatly braided black cornrows.

"that's good! i want you to tell me allll about it when i finish talking to ya daddy, okay?" Bianca asked, lowering the toddler back to the ground, as she looked up at Jo-Vaughn and held out her hand, signaling for him to put his backpack in her hand while she grabbed the strap of it and handed it to Kamari, "go upstairs and unpack your bag, and when i'm finished talking, i'll come get you."

"yes, ma'am!" as Kamari excitedly ran off towards the staircase, Bianca and Jo-Vaughn locked eyes, and she noticed a small flirtatious smile on his face, making her let out a soft chuckle.

"why you lookin' at me like that, J?" Bianca asked, chuckling, as she looked up at the 6'1 male and rested one of her hands on her hip.

"i can't look at you?" Jo-Vaughn playfully smirked, running his tongue over his lips, as Bianca raised her brow at him and the two soon laughed in sync, "nah, i'm just playin', girl, how you been?"

"you askin' me this like you didn't see me last week," Bianca chuckled, earning a soft chuckle from her baby father, "but i been good, what about you? and how was Kamari?"

"a week is a long ass time, B. but i been good too, and you know KJ ain't never no trouble. he has his moments when he gets wanna throw tantrums 'cause he can't get what he wants, but other than that, he was good. he spoiled just like his damn mama." Jo-Vaughn chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets, as Bianca laughed and raised her brow at him.

"who spoiled his mama tho'?" Bianca asked, crossing her arms across her chest, as a small smile crept onto her face and she awaited his answer.

"ya mama and daddy did. that don't got nothin' to do with me 'cause i'on know nothin' about that," Jo-Vaughn jokingly shrugged, looking off to the side, as Bianca laughed and reached out to hit him, making him laugh while he grabbed her wrist, "a'ight, i spoiled you, damn. you out here tryna' get domestic and shit."

"because you lyin' like you ain't used to spoil my ass when we was together. and you wonder why 'Mari so spoiled... nigga, that's yo' doing, not mine." Bianca laughed as Jo-Vaughn laughed with her and let go of her wrist.

"if i have your permission... i wanna spoil you and him again." Jo-Vaughn announced, a smile on his face, as Bianca raised a brow and looked him up and down.

"what you got planned in your mischievous ass mind?" Bianca asked, leaning against the doorway, as she crossed her arms for a second time.

"i wanna take all three of us on a lil' family trip to Orlando. i know lil' man starts Kindergarten next month, so i wanna take him to Disney World before school starts, and i want you to come with us." Jo-Vaughn explained as Bianca glanced down at their feet in deep thought before looking back up at him.

"i'on know about that, Joey. i mean, it'll be good for him, but—"

"B, c'mon, man, you gotta' come with us. it ain't a family trip if he ain't got his mama. don't be like that, baby." Jo-Vaughn pleaded as Bianca cracked a small smile at him referring to her as 'baby' and she let out a soft chuckle.

"i told you about callin' me that, boy," Bianca chuckled as she pushed her black knotless braids behind her shoulder, "but i guess i'll tag along. for him, not for you."

"girl, stop frontin', you know you still love my ass." Jo-Vaughn chuckled, waving her off, as Bianca playfully rolled her eyes and softly chuckled.

"when we leavin'? and at what time?" Bianca asked, raising a brow, as a smile rested on her face and Jo-Vaughn smiled at her.

"tomorrow morning at 8. we flyin' over on my private jet, so go pack you and KJ a bag for the weekend and i'll see y'all tomorrow."

—

"all done, papa," Bianca cooed softly, smoothing the rest of the Vaseline on her hands on Kamari's brown-skinned face, as she gently kissed his nose and let go of his face, "go downstairs and lay on the couch. you can go to sleep until Daddy gets here."

"yes, ma'am." Kamari yawned softly, rubbing his eye, as he stood up from his bed and walked out of his room while Bianca rubbed her hands together to get rid of the excess shine the Vaseline had left.

surprisingly, getting Kamari up and ready at 7 A.M. wasn't as hard as you may have thought it was, and usually, it was difficult for Bianca to get him up early because he wasn't a morning person, but today was different. it was kind of challenging to get him out of his bed, but other than that, things went smoothly, which gave Bianca a slight shock.

nonetheless, she was grateful it didn't take him long because if it did, she most likely wouldn't have time to get herself ready.

walking into her bedroom, Bianca stood at her vanity mirror as she adjusted the zipper on her baby blue romper, her braids up in a ponytail and swinging easily with each movement her head made. while she adjusted her breasts in her top, her phone suddenly began ringing, and she walked away from the mirror as she walked to her bed and picked up her phone beside the packed suitcase, realizing that Nia was calling her and not Jo-Vaughn.

"good morning, sunshine." Bianca smiled, answering the phone, as she walked back over to her vanity and propped up her phone, seeing Nia's face pop up on her screen while she walked to her closet to pick out a pair of slides to put on.

"good morning, mamas— ooh, where you goin'?" Nia asked, noticing her attire and the bag on the bed, as Bianca chuckled and slipped a pair of her white Nike slides on her feet.

"Joey's takin' me and KJ to Orlando. i gotta' keep my voice down because he doesn't know yet, but he wants to take him to Disney World and wanted me to come along so it could be a family trip, so i told him i'd come," Bianca explained lowly, adjusting her feet in her shoes, as she walked over to her phone and noticed a smirk on Nia's face, "what you smirking for?"

"i'm not gon' say nothin' but this: when y'all asses come back from Florida, y'all gon' be back together. mark my words, B. you gon' forget allll about that nigga you talkin' to when you see ya baby zaaaaddy." Nia smirked, making Bianca laugh, as Bianca held onto her phone and shook her head, peeking out of her bedroom window and seeing Jo-Vaughn's car pull up in her driveway.

"whatever you say, Ni'Ni. just because i'm goin' outta' state with him doesn't mean i'ma go back to him. this is for Kamari, not us," Bianca chuckled, walking away from the window, as she walked over to her bed and zipped up her suitcase, "and speaking of him, he just pulled up. so, i'ma talk to you later on. make sure to run me in on what happened with Mr. White Chocolate last night."

"deny it alll you want to, B, i know him and i know you. he ain't gon' stop 'til he gets you back and you bound to fold underneath all that pressure, respectfully. it's only a matter of time, sweetness," Nia chuckled, raising her brow, as she adjusted the bonnet on her head, "but, i got'chu, i'ma definitely run you in when you get time. bye, mamas, have a safe trip."

"bye, sunshine, and thank you. i'll make sure to send you some pictures of your nephew to make your day." Bianca chuckled, smiling, as she pulled her suitcase off of the bed and rested it on the floor.

"you better. or i'ma hop on a plane to Orlando and beat yo' ass." the call ended after Nia's remark, and Bianca laughed at her statement as knocks sounded off at her door, making her smile slightly widen because she knew Jo-Vaughn didn't want to ring the doorbell in case Kamari was asleep.

walking downstairs with her suitcase and phone in her hand and her crossbody purse on her shoulder, Bianca sat the suitcase next to the couch and slipped her phone inside her purse as she walked over to the door and unlocked and opened it, revealing her baby father.

"i'm glad you knocked 'cause he's asleep." Bianca chuckled, stepping to the side and allowing him to come in, as Jo-Vaughn chuckled and cracked a smile at seeing Kamari asleep on the couch.

"i had a feelin' my lil' man was sleepin'." Jo-Vaughn chuckled, carefully scooping the toddler off of the couch, as Kamari gently writhed in his arms and Jo-Vaughn grabbed their suitcase, making Bianca furrow her brows.

"you gon' carry him and the suitcase?" Bianca asked, her facial expression resembling one of confusion, as Jo-Vaughn looked over at her and chuckled at her reaction.

"you carried him for 9 months, the least i could do is carry him to the car," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, making Bianca crack a smile, as Bianca let out a soft laugh and the two headed for the front door, "plus, you know i ain't never let you carry no bags, girl. especially if they heavy. you think just 'cause we not together no more that i was gon' stop doin' that?"

"just a lil' bit." Bianca chuckled, closing the front door, as she locked the door and tucked her keys into her purse while she walked to his car.

"well, you thought wrong, B. i'm a gentleman at heart, pretty girl," Jo-Vaughn flirtatiously smirked, winking at her, as he walked to his car and opened the back door, gently sitting Kamari inside while he buckled his seat belt and closed the door afterward, "and you bet not touch that door handle."

"yes, sir," Bianca joked, quickly putting her hand down since she was already reaching for the door handle, as Jo-Vaughn opened her door for her and Bianca smiled while she climbed into his passenger seat, "i done told you about that flirting, boy. but thank you, baby daddy."

"anytime, baby mama."

—

"ooh, nice jet." Bianca smiled, holding Kamari in her arms while his head rested on her shoulder, as Jo-Vaughn rolled the luggage to the plane and let out a soft chuckle.

"thank you, B. nice things don't come cheap," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, earning a small laugh from Bianca, as the two approached the jet and a man dressed in pilot attire walked out of the door, "B, this is Francis, he gon' be our pilot and our chauffeur when we touch down in Orlando. Francis, this is Bianca, my beautiful baby mama."

"it's nice to meet you, Ms. Bianca. i've heard so much about you," Francis smiled warmly, holding out his hand, as Bianca smiled back at him and shook his hand, keeping one of her hands on the toddler on her chest to keep him from falling, "if you don't mind me asking, who's the little guy in your arms?"

"it's nice to meet you, too! and this is Kamari, our son. he's not a morning person, so you'll probably see him awake once the plane lands." Bianca smiled, chuckling, as Francis smiled at her before his eyes landed on the bags in Jo-Vaughn's hands.

"i'll take those on the jet for you, sir, if you don't mind." Francis offered as Jo-Vaughn glanced down at the bags in his hands before handing them to the pilot.

"i 'preciate that, F. i'll make sure to leave you some tips before the day's over with," Jo-Vaughn smiled, watching him grab the suitcases, as Francis smiled and nodded his head before walking back up the stairs, making Jo-Vaughn look over at Bianca, "ladies first, right?"

"yeah, i'm glad you remember," Bianca joked, jokingly mugging him, as Jo-Vaughn laughed at her and Bianca made her way up the stairs, looking around at the interior of the jet with a smile, "oh, my God, it's gorgeous in here."

"i'm glad you like it. i was hopin' you did," Jo-Vaughn smiled, closing the jet's door behind him, "i know you probably wanna go back to sleep, so there's a bedroom back there for you and him to go. i'ma be back there in a minute."

"yes, baby father." Bianca joked, earning a laugh from Jo-Vaughn, as the two parted their ways and Bianca made her way to the back of the jet, opening the door of the bedroom and walking inside.

"oh, i just know this bed is comfortable as hell." Bianca mumbled to herself, looking at the queen-sized mattress, as she gently laid Kamari on the bed and took off his shoes, sitting them by the door while she took off her slides and placed them by his.

taking off her purse, Bianca sat it on the small wooden table next to the bed and unzipped it as she sat down on the bed and pulled out her phone, checking her notifications and going through them while she heard footsteps come closer to the room.

"made yourself at home?" Jo-Vaughn chuckled, a small smile on his face, as he closed the door and took off his shoes, leaving them beside Bianca and Kamari's shoes while he walked over to the bed.

"somethin' like that," Bianca chuckled, texting Nia back, as she turned off her phone and slipped it back inside her purse, "i can't wait to sleep on this comfortable ass bed. you picked a good ass mattress, J."

"you gon' be complimentin' me all day, huh?" Jo-Vaughn questioned, chuckling, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sat it on the other small wooden table on his side of the bed, "we got about a 4-hour flight anyways, so you'll be well-rested before we land."

"i just might, depending on what other surprise you got up yo' sleeve," Bianca chuckled, putting her legs on the bed, as she carefully grabbed Kamari and laid him between her and Jo-Vaughn, "and shit, i hope so. with how comfortable this bed is, it feels like i'm layin' on clouds."

"yeah, and you wonder why i bought it," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, laying on his back, as he rested his arms underneath his head and closed his eyes, "goodnight, baby mama."

Bianca chuckled softly and lay on the bed as she laid on her right side and her eyes gradually shut, "goodnight, baby daddy."

—

"Mommyyyy, wake up!" the sound of Kamari's enthusiasm-filled voice rang through Bianca's eardrums and she felt his dainty hands shake her by the shoulders, making a smile slowly spread across her face while her eyes fluttered open, "we're hereeee!"

Bianca's eyes locked onto her widely smiling child and she looked around the room to spot Jo-Vaughn, but he was nowhere to be found. assuming he was in the cockpit with Francis, Bianca let out a giggle at Kamari shaking her again, despite her being fully awake, and she wrapped her arms around his body while she sat up.

"your daddy told you where we were goin', huh?" Bianca asked, chuckling, as she smiled at the elated toddler and Kamari nodded his head eagerly.

"yes, ma'am. he told me we're going after we stop at the hotel." Kamari smiled, resting his hands on her shoulders, as Bianca reached into her purse and grabbed her phone.

"you know the name of the hotel, papa?" Bianca asked, turning on her phone, as she checked her notifications and Kamari played with the ends of her braids.

"yeah, but... i don't know how to say it. Daddy told me i said it wrong." Kamari explained, occupying himself with her hair, as Bianca chuckled and went through her unread messages, seeing some texts from Nia and Malcolm.

"it's the Waldorf Astoria hotel," Jo-Vaughn chimed in, walking into the room, as Bianca glanced up at him and Kamari looked back at him, "i was stuck between choosing that one and the Ritz-Carlton, but i made my decision about two nights ago."

"aren't both of those expensive 5-star hotels? don't be spendin' all that money at one time, J, i told you about that." Bianca advised, shooting a text to her friend and her talking stage, as she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her purse.

"as long as i'm makin' you and my son happy, i don't care 'bout nunna' that, B. and you know that," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, walking towards the bed, as he plopped down on his stomach beside Bianca and Kamari, "plus, it ain't like i'm not gon' get it back. the money flow don't stop, baby. ain't that right, K?"

"yeah!" Kamari smiled, watching his father raise his hand, as Kamari gave him a high five and Jo-Vaughn smiled at him while Bianca let out a laugh.

"you two are gonna be the death of me one day," Bianca chuckled, untying the black durag on Kamari's cornrows, as she removed the rag from his head and ran her fingers over his scalp, "where's Francis?"

"he went to go get the Rolls Royce so he can drive us to the hotel." Jo-Vaughn explained, watching Bianca slip their son's durag in her purse, as Bianca's brows furrowed and she looked over at him, playfully tugging at the gold hoop in his ear before reaching to remove his stocking cap.

"Jo-Vaughn, how much money have you spent?" Bianca asked, raising a brow, as she removed his stocking cap from his low-cut hair and ran her fingers over it while one of her acrylics slid through the side-parted cut in his hair.

"i'm not tellin' you all'at... you gon' be tryna' whup me." Jo-Vaughn defended, chuckling, as Bianca playfully rolled her eyes and the sound of a car horn sounded off from outside, causing Bianca to glance out of the bedroom door.

"Daddy, what's a Rolls Royce?" Kamari asked cluelessly, watching Jo-Vaughn get up from

the bed to grab his shoes, as Kamari climbed off of Bianca's lap and sat at the end of the bed so his father could put his shoes on.

"it's a car, little one," Jo-Vaughn explained, crouching down in front of him, as he grabbed one of Kamari's feet and slipped his shoe on, "remember when you saw that car on TV with the stars on the ceiling?"

"it's one of them?" Kamari asked in awe, his eyes lighting up, as Jo-Vaughn put on his other shoe and looked up at him with a small smile before nodding his head, "i wanna see!"

"Mr. Scott, i've prepared the car!" the sound of Francis's voice caused electricity to run through Kamari's little body, and he hopped off of the bed and ran out of the room as his eyes locked on Francis, who was standing by the door of the jet.

"Mr. Francis, does the car really have stars on the ceiling?" Kamari asked, smiling widely, as Francis looked down at him and smiled at his ecstatic face.

"yes, it does, little man. you wanna see?" Francis smiled as Kamari jumped up and down in excitement and quickly nodded his head.

"yes, please!" Kamari exclaimed excitedly as he and Francis left the jet, leaving Jo-Vaughn and Bianca there by themselves.

"his lil' ass gon' be bouncin' off walls all day long," Bianca chuckled, grabbing her purse, as she stood up from the bed and walked towards the door of the bedroom to slip on her shoes, "and i don't know how many times i gotta' tell you to stop callin' me pet names, especially in front of 'Mari. he's young, he could get confused."

"ain't nothin' for our lil' man to be confused about. his daddy loves his mama, that's all that is," Jo-Vaughn declared, a small smirk on his face, as Bianca slipped on her shoes and attempted to walk past him but Jo-Vaughn stopped her by wrapping his arm around her waist, "and i ain't stoppin' 'til i get you back, B, i told you that. you can resist it all you want, but by the time this trip ends, you gon' be all mine again, shorty."

Bianca stared into his eyes and her body tingled from his touch as she rested her hands on his chest and thought about pushing him away, but she soon got lost in her thoughts instead of acting upon them. his words sounded eerily similar to the words Nia had spoken to her this morning, and it made her wonder if Nia secretly was in on what Jo-Vaughn had planned, but knowing how Nia is, she wouldn't admit it unless it worked in her favor.

sooner or later, Bianca would eventually cave into Jo-Vaughn's advances. since the two were together for a few years, he knew all of her weaknesses, and he could easily use them to his advantage, which made Bianca slightly nervous.

one usage of one of her "worst" weaknesses, and she was bound to be bent over in their hotel room at the end of the night.

"whatever you say, Joey," Bianca mumbled, breaking their eye contact, as she felt

butterflies in her stomach and lightly removed his arm from around her, "stop tryna' romance me and let's go. Kamari ain't gon' be occupied with those stars for that long, J."

Jo-Vaughn chuckled and cracked a smile as he followed behind Bianca and the two made their way to the exit of the jet, his eyes trailing down her figure and stopping at her ass while he ran his tongue over his lips, "you got a point... but i know what can occupy me."

"Jo-Vaughn, i'ma slap yo' nasty ass with my purse."

—

"this room is beautiful... you really outdid yourself with this, J." Bianca chuckled, smiling, as the three walked into the hotel room and Kamari immediately took off running down the short hallway.

"i had to get the best for you and KJ, so i got a luxury suite. there's two bedrooms in here, a master bedroom and a kid's bedroom, so—"

"wait. one master bedroom?" Bianca asked, her brows furrowing, as Jo-Vaughn looked over at her and nodded his head, "so i gotta' share a bed with you?"

"you got a problem with sleepin' next to me, B?" Jo-Vaughn asked, chuckling, as the two made their way down the hallway and walked into the master bedroom that was across from the kid's bedroom.

"i'd rather sleep on the couch—"

"Bianca, if you think i'm lettin' you sleep on the couch, you must not know who you had a baby by," Jo-Vaughn cut her off as he sat their suitcases on the king-sized bed, "you not 'bout to sleep on that couch when this bed is sittin' right here, you heard? i'on know what typa' man you think i am, but i ain't the typa' man to let his lady sleep on the couch."

a sly smirk crossed Bianca's face at him fussing at her for wanting to sleep on the couch, and butterflies filled her stomach for a second time as she dropped the smirk from her face once she saw Jo-Vaughn look back at her and the two locked eyes while Bianca crossed her arms.

"yes, baby father," Bianca jokingly grouched, playfully rolling her eyes at him, as Jo-Vaughn chuckled at her and Bianca walked out of the room to check on Kamari, "Kamari Jahlil, stop jumpin' on this bed!"

Bianca laughed at seeing Kamari bounce on his bed and he giggled at her fussing at him as he slid off of the bed and walked over to Bianca, holding his arms up and signaling for her to pick him up.

"you wanna go look at the view with Mommy?" Bianca asked, smiling, as she picked him up and sat him on her hip while Kamari nodded his head and the two made their way to the living room.

opening the sliding door to the balcony, the summer breeze gently slapped the two in the face as they stepped onto the balcony, looking out at the clear blue sky and the warm sunlight shining over the sand and ocean across from them.

"it's pretty." Kamari spoke softly in awe, his dark brown eyes watching the sun reflect on the ocean, as Bianca smiled and nodded her head, removing her braids from underneath Kamari's arm and feeling them sway behind her head.

"it really is, papa," Bianca smiled as she heard footsteps behind her and looked over her shoulder, seeing Jo-Vaughn standing in the living room with his phone pointed towards her, "are you recording us?"

"maybe," Jo-Vaughn smiled, playfully winking, as he posted the video to his Instagram story with his song "Fallin'" attached to it and stuffed his phone into his pocket, "y'all ready to go to Disney World or y'all just gon' stand there and look at the view the whole trip?"

"i'm ready!" Kamari exclaimed, smiling, as he jumped down from Bianca's arms and ran over to Jo-Vaughn, making both of the adults laugh while Bianca walked inside and closed and locked the sliding door behind her.

"okay, Spongebob Jr, let's get you to Disney World."

—

"bye, Mickey!" Kamari smiled, waving goodbye to the employee in the Mickey Mouse costume, as the employee waved back to him and Bianca smiled at the sight, holding into his small hand while he clutched three of her fingers since her hand was too big to hold.

not only was the trip to Disney World enjoyable to Kamari, but Bianca and Jo-Vaughn enjoyed themselves as well. the family of three road rides together, took pictures, and even indulged in some of the food they had. despite underestimating how much fun she'd have, Bianca was starting to become grateful she agreed to come on the trip. though it was only for Kamari, she managed to enjoy herself as much as he did, and the smile on her face was almost as big as his.

though Kamari looked like Jo-Vaughn, it was safe to say that he and Bianca shared more mannerisms than he did with his father.

"you enjoyed yourself, papa?" Bianca asked, smiling, as she adjusted the Mickey Mouse ears on his head and the charm bracelet Jo-Vaughn bought for her at the gift shop jingled on her wrist with each movement her hand made.

"yeah! Daddy, can we go back one day?" Kamari smiled widely, looking up at his father, as Jo-Vaughn looked down at him and adjusted the matching Mickey Mouse ears on his head while he smiled at him.

"we can back for ya birthday next year, deal?" Jo-Vaughn offered, raising one of his thin brows, as he lowered his right hand down to him since he was holding onto his left one and held out his pinky finger, making Kamari's smile widen while his dimples poked through his cheeks and he locked his pinky finger with his.

"deal!" Kamari smiled as he and Jo-Vaughn gave each other a high five and Kamari looked up at Bianca while he held his pinky finger up to her, "Mommy, you're coming too, right?"

"of course, 'Mari. i wouldn't miss it for anything in the world." Bianca smiled, lowering her left hand down to him since he was holding onto her right one, as she locked her pinky around his and Kamari giggled in delight, the two sharing a high five while they approached the white Rolls Royce that Francis was sitting in.

"what else you got planned, J?" Bianca asked, averting her attention to her baby father, as she fixed one of her braids underneath her Minnie Mouse ears and Jo-Vaughn looked over at her, causing the two to make eye contact.

"you like boats?" Jo-Vaughn questioned, a small smirk on his face, as Bianca raised her brows and let out a soft chuckle in shock, watching him open the car door for her while Kamari slipped inside the backseat.

"Joey, you didn't." Bianca spoke in disbelief, getting into the seat next to Kamari, as Jo-Vaughn chuckled at her reaction and closed her door, walking over to his side and opening his own.

"i definitely did," Jo-Vaughn smirked, getting inside the vehicle, as he closed the door behind him and gave Kamari his Donald Duck plush while he looked up at Francis in the driver seat, "yo, Francis, you remember that boat dock i was tellin' you about two days ago? i need you to take me there."

"right away, sir."

—

"Jo-Vaughn!" Bianca gasped, her jaw dropping at the sight of the boat, as she looked over at him and noticed a wide smile on his face, "this is... oh, my God, it's so pretty!"

"and before you ask me about the price, i ain't buy it. i rented it for the day," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, holding Kamari in his arms, as the driver of the boat appeared before them and Jo-Vaughn bent down to dap him up, "wassup, bro. Bianca, this my homie Alejandro, he gon' be drivin' the boat for us. Al, this is my baby mama Bianca and our son Kamari."

"ah, so you the girl i hear him talk about often. it's nice to meet you," Alejandro smiled, his Spanish accent heavily audible in his speech, as he shook the woman's hand and looked over at Kamari before holding his hand up to give a high five, "hey, little guy."

"hi," Kamari smiled softly, giving him a high five, as he heard the sound of a dog barking and his eyes lit up, "you have a dog?"

"a baby French Bulldog, to be exact. you wanna see her, buddy?" Alejandro asked, smiling, as Kamari nodded his head and looked at his parents for permission, the both of them nodding their heads while Jo-Vaughn lowered him down onto the boat.

"Mala don't bite, do she?" Jo-Vaughn asked, holding onto Bianca's hand, as Bianca cautiously stepped down from the dock and into the boat.

"nah, she's a sweetheart. i made sure to train her well so she wouldn't attack non-threatening people," Alejandro assured as Jo-Vaughn stepped down into the boat and the sound of dog claws hitting the ground got closer to them, making the four of them look back and see the 2-month-old gray French Bulldog approaching them, "Ms. Bianca and Kamari, this is Mala, my dog."

Kamari smiled at the sight of the dog and approached the animal as Mala sat in front of him and looked up at him, watching him lower his hand down to her head while he pet her. Mala leaned into Kamari's hand and Bianca smiled at the sight as she pulled out her phone and started recording, making sure to get the adorable sight on camera so she could send it to her best friend.

"if you'll excuse me, i'll go start the boat."

—

"so you talk about me, huh?" Bianca asked, smirking, as she looked over at Jo-Vaughn and Jo-Vaughn chuckled, looking over at her while his arm rested behind her.

"it's hard not to talk about a woman that's heaven-sent," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, running his tongue over his lips, as he looked down at the floor of the boat and watched Kamari pet Mala, who was half-asleep in his small lap, "i still talk to my friends and my mama about you."

"Mama Scott still asks about me?" Bianca asked, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her ex-mother-in-law, as Jo-Vaughn looked over at her and nodded his head, a small smile creeping onto his face once he noticed the sparkle in her eyes.

"mhm. she still calls you her daughter-in-law," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, a smile on his face, as Bianca cracked a smile and looked out at the view, "when i told her i wanted to get you back, she told me she believed in me because she knew how much i love you. she told me "a man who truly loves a woman will fight for her", and it made me realize how much i care about you because i haven't given up on us."

Bianca felt butterflies flutter in her stomach for a third time and she looked over at him as the two stared into one another's eyes, their pupils dilating in love while Bianca's smile slightly widened. though she was talking to another man and going on dates with him, nobody could ever compare to Jo-Vaughn, and she knew this. she couldn't love another man as much as she loved him, but she had no shame in trying to see if she could find love in another person.

the men she dated after Jo-Vaughn were sweethearts and so was the one she was talking to now, but with how much time and effort Jo-Vaughn put into pursuing her, it seemed as if trying to date other men was practically a waste of time.

without either of them realizing it, their faces had gotten closer to one another's, causing Bianca's breathing to slightly speed up, and before the two could share a kiss, Jo-Vaughn moved his face back from hers, a small smirk on his face while he watched her mindlessly squeeze her thighs together.

"this motherfucker here." Bianca thought, feeling a pulse between her legs, as she wiped her sweaty palms on her romper and watched the man look out at the view.

"the view's nice, ain't it?" Jo-Vaughn complimented, changing the topic, as Bianca slyly pulled out her phone and opened her camera.

"it really is," Bianca added, glancing up at the scenery, as she raised her phone, "pose for me real quick."

looking back at her, Jo-Vaughn noticed the phone in her hands and he chuckled as he posed, making Bianca smile while she took the picture and went to her camera roll to see how it turned out.

"ooh, who that is? he look like he the man." Jo-Vaughn joked, a playful grin on his face, as he looked at the photo and Bianca laughed while she shook her head at him.

"don't get cocky, Joey."

—

"can i have a dog like Mr. Al?" Kamari asked, looking up at his parents, as the adults chuckled and Jo-Vaughn unlocked the door to the hotel room, opening the door and letting Kamari and Bianca walk in first while he walked in behind him.

"if you're good, i might buy you one for Christmas," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, closing the door behind him, as he watched Kamari walk down the hallway and Bianca walk over to the couch, "don't neither of y'all get too comfortable 'cause we leavin' in a minute."

"leaving? where we goin'?" Bianca asked, her brows furrowing, as Kamari peeked around the corner and looked at his father in slight confusion mixed with excitement.

"we gotta' eat, right? so i'm takin' y'all to The Palm." Jo-Vaughn smiled as Bianca's face dropped and her brows raised while Kamari's little brows furrowed and he looked between his parents.

"what's The Palm?" Kamari asked, leaning against the wall, as Bianca looked over at him.

"it's a fancy restaurant, papa," Bianca answered as she turned her attention back to Jo-Vaughn, "and it's extremely expensive. you don't listen to me at all when i tell you not to spend so much money, do you?"

"it's for a good cause, ain't it?" Jo-Vaughn asked, raising his brows, as Bianca playfully rolled her eyes at him and Jo-Vaughn chuckled at her, "now you and K go get dressed."

"Joey, i didn't pack anything that would fit the atmosphere of a fancy restaurant—"

"who said anything about what you packed?" Jo-Vaughn asked, a small smirk on his face, as Bianca's brows furrowed in confusion and Jo-Vaughn's smirk widened at the sight, "go look on the bed in our bedroom, B."

Bianca stepped away from the couch and made her way down the short hallway with Kamari by her side and Jo-Vaughn walking behind her as she walked into the bedroom and saw three dry-cleaners bags on the bed, a shoebox on top of each bag and making a wide smile cross Bianca's face while she looked back at Jo-Vaughn.

"what's all this?" Bianca asked, smiling, as Kamari walked over to the bed and ran his tiny fingers on the small bag of clothing, lightly tilting his head at it to see if he could make out what was in the bag.

"i had Francis go pick up some clothes and shoes for me while we was on the boat. while you and K walked down the dock, i was talking to him about restaurants i could take y'all to and he told me about The Palm. as you could tell by the three bags and boxes, i ain't pack no appropriate clothes for a fancy restaurant either," Jo-Vaughn explained, chuckling, as Bianca approached the bed and her eyes lit up once she realized the bag in the middle had a dress in it, "the first one's mine, the second one's yours, and the third one's KJ's."

"now, for the second time, get dressed." Jo-Vaughn playfully smirked, raising his brow, as Bianca and Kamari looked at each other before looking over at Jo-Vaughn.

"yes, sir!"

—

"...it takes time to look this good and you rushin' me?" Bianca exclaimed from the bathroom, adjusting her ponytail, as she pushed up her breasts in her dress and made sure her areolas and nipples were covered and not slipping out, hearing footsteps approach the bathroom door and immediately recognizing whose they were.

though Bianca was slightly taken aback by Jo-Vaughn remembering what size she wore in clothes and heels, she couldn't lie and say that he didn't have good taste. he knew what looked good on her, and it was evident due to the dress he had Francis purchase.

"girl, if you don't—" Jo-Vaughn cut himself off once he saw her and a smile crept onto his face as he analyzed her from head to toe and licked his lips at the sight of her, "i knew you'd look good in that dress."

"i'm surprised you still remember what size i wear." Bianca chuckled, adjusting the silver 'B' necklace around her neck, as she picked up her silver hoops and put them in her ears, her eyes landing on Jo-Vaughn through the mirror while she slightly smirked at seeing him be memorized by her appearance.

"i remember everything about you, B." Jo-Vaughn admitted, admiration shining in his tone, as Bianca's heart fluttered from his words and she looked away from his reflection in the mirror, looking back at herself and watching a big grin spread across her face.

"you do?" Bianca asked, grinning, as Jo-Vaughn looked at her through the mirror and nodded his head, "so, you remember how i reacted when you told me that "Love Is Only a Feeling" was about me?"

"man," Jo-Vaughn laughed, shaking his head, as Bianca laughed and turned to face him, "you cried like a baby when i sang that shit to you. i ain't know whether to keep singin' or hold you."

"and you did both. i still remember that moment," Bianca smiled, chuckling, as Jo-Vaughn smiled at her and Bianca soon started blushing, making her break their eye contact while she turned off the bathroom and grabbed Jo-Vaughn's hand, "now c'mon and let's go eat. i know K's probably hungry as hell sitting in the living room in his lil' tuxedo."

—

"you put 'Mari to sleep?" Bianca asked, walking out of the bathroom, as Jo-Vaughn stood by his side of the bed and put his phone on the charger, laying it on the bedside table while he looked up at her.

"yeah, i just laid him down. after he went to sleep, i took a shower in the other bathroom so i wouldn't bother you," Jo-Vaughn explained as his eyes scanned her attire before locking on her oversized shirt, "you still sleep in my shirts?"

"i never stopped. you left some of your shirts at my house, so i kept wearing 'em." Bianca chuckled, earning a smile from Jo-Vaughn, as she walked over to her side of the bed and grabbed her phone changer from her bedside table, plugging her phone up and sitting it down.

though Bianca scolded Jo-Vaughn about how much money he's spent, dinner was probably her favorite part of their eventful day. the family of three conversed, ate, and still managed to have smiles on their faces. after they ate, Kamari had gotten sleepy, and he ended up falling asleep in the car on the way back to the hotel, which resulted in Jo-Vaughn carrying him up to the room and giving him a bath before putting him to bed.

Bianca's bath had left her relaxed and refreshed, and all she could think about was crawling into bed and heading straight to sleep, but with Jo-Vaughn around, she knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"i remember one time i came home from tour and saw you wrapped up in one of my hoodies." Jo-Vaughn chuckled, smiling, as Bianca laughed and walked over to the vanity near Jo-Vaughn's side of the room, sitting down on the cushioned chair in front of the mirror while she grabbed her head scarf.

"i was lonely and it smelled like you, okay? don't bully me for that." Bianca laughed, wrapping her scarf around her scalp, as Jo-Vaughn chuckled and walked towards the end of the bed, sitting down on it while he looked at her with love in his eyes.

"i miss you, girl." Jo-Vaughn spoke with an unintelligible tone in his voice, a small smile on resting his face, as Bianca looked at him through the mirror she was sitting in front of and ran her fingers through her braids.

"how can you miss me when i'm right here?—"

"nah, B, i'm talking 'bout when we was together. i miss us. i miss how shit used to be. i know we ended on good terms, but sometimes i can't help but to think about what would've happened to us if we didn't grow apart. you would've probably been my wife by now," Jo-Vaughn admitted as Bianca's eyes broke his eye contact and looked down at her lap, "i miss hearin' you call me all them cute nicknames. i miss kissin' you, holdin' you, spendin' time with you... i miss being with you, B. not being with you feels like a part of me is gone and there's a void in my heart. you're the missin' piece of my puzzle piece, girl. without you, i'll always remain incomplete."

"Jo-Vaughn..." Bianca spoke softly, searching for words to form a proper response, as she looked up at him through her mirror for the second time, letting her eyes tell the story her mouth couldn't say.

"i know you miss me too, B. you been frontin' for too long and i can see through all'at shit," Jo-Vaughn added, standing up from the bed, as he walked closer to Bianca and stood beside her, "but there's one thing standin' in my way of gettin' to you, and i know you know what it is."

Bianca parted her lips to speak but no words exited her mouth as she looked up at Jo-Vaughn, confusion filling her mind before it abruptly clicked that he was talking about Malcolm. Bianca's mouth shut at the realization and she swallowed the lump growing in her throat as she watched Jo-Vaughn's demeanor change and she wiped her now sweaty palms on her thighs.

"h...how do you know about him?" Bianca asked, her voice as low as a whisper, as Jo-Vaughn chuckled and cupped her face in his hand, rubbing her cheek with his thumb while he leaned down to her.

"you think Kamari not gon' tell me 'bout the nigga you been bringin' around him?" Jo-Vaughn questioned, raising a brow, as goosebumps spread across Bianca's body and her throat became dry, "you forgot that you mines, mama? hm? or do i gotta' remind you?"

Bianca gently gripped her knees to keep herself poised and her breathing turned irregular as she looked up at her baby father and swallowed the second lump growing in her throat before parting her lips to speak, "...remind me."

—

Bianca's eyes rolled back as the bed rocked underneath her, a pillow wedged between the headboard and the wall to keep from making too much noise. Jo-Vaughn's hand rested on her mouth to silence her loud noises and the arch in her back deepened at feeling him roughly smack her ass, making her whimper in his palm while he grabbed a handful of her braids and pulled her back to his chest.

"you been frontin' all day, baby. now look at you. being a good girl and takin' this dick how you 'posed to," Jo-Vaughn cooed, a small smirk on his face, as he let go of her hair and rested his hand on one of her breasts, teasing and tugging at her nipple while he kissed her earlobe, "you missed me, pretty?"

"y-yes! oh, God, baby, don't stop!" Bianca whimpered against his palm, gently wrapping her hand around his wrist, as she rested her other hand on top of the one on her breast and her brows furrowed while her nipples hardened against Jo-Vaughn's touch.

who would've known that this would've been the end result of their first day on their family trip? Jo-Vaughn might've known and Nia knew off the bat, but Bianca? poor Bianca was clueless about what was to come later on.

"youn' know how bad i been missin' you, B. how much i craved havin' you like this again. i missed hearin' you call out for me and moan my name while i gave you this dick like my life depended on it. i missed feelin' you hold on to me as tight as you could because i was overstimulatin' you and you couldn't take it. i missed watchin' those tears roll down your face as i hit that spot," Jo-Vaughn spoke explicitly in her ear, kissing her earlobe, as he sneakily slid deeper and Bianca let out a squeal against his hand, "hearin' you say my name gives me the best ego boost of my fuckin' life, mama. the way you moan it, whimper it, whine it, cry it out, drag it out... the way it rolls off your tongue could make a nigga buss right then and there."

"Jo-Vaughnnnn..." Bianca whined, her hips slightly bucking at feeling him thrust from a different angle, as she gently squeezed his wrist, "you m-make me feel so g-good, Daddy..."

"just like that, baby. say my name just like that. you look so pretty when you say that shit," Jo-Vaughn groaned in her ear, lightly tugging at her earlobe with his teeth, as the speed of Jo-Vaughn's strokes sped up and Bianca's eyes rolled back for a second time, "you got me hooked on you, girl. and you think i'm gon' let another nigga experience this? you got me fucked up, B."

"can't no other nigga make you feel the way i make you feel, and you know that. so for you to prance around with all these niggas on ya arm like they could even top me is some fuckin' bullshit, yo," Jo-Vaughn growled, removing his hand from her mouth, as he wrapped his hand around her neck and roughly squeezed the sides of it, "they can't make you cum like i can, make you moan like i can, make you run from the dick like i can, make you squirm like i can, make you cream like i can... shit, them niggas can't even eat this pussy like i can, baby. can't none of these muh'fuckas' compare to me, and you know that, shorty."

"you let them niggas in my pussy? huh?" Jo-Vaughn asked, his tone aggressive, as he turned her head towards him, "and look at me when i'm fuckin' talkin' to you, shorty. show me those pretty brown eyes."

"n-no, Daddy, i swearrrr! i-i swear, i didn't give 'em yo' pussy," Bianca whimpered, her submissive gaze locking with his dominant one, as she bit down on her bottom lip to suppress her moans and she felt herself become wetter from his possessiveness, making a feeble whimper come from her lips while her eyes fluttered a bit, "i-i was keepin' it t-tight for you, baby..."

"aw, you kept it tight for me, princess?" Jo-Vaughn smiled sadistically, shoving his inches deeper inside of her walls, as Bianca's jaw dropped and no sound exited her mouth while she vigorously nodded her head in response, "you ain't let ya old niggas hit? not even ole' dude you with now? — and you know exactly who i'm talkin' 'bout, so don't play crazy. i'm glad he ain't get to experience it... shit, he wouldn't be able to handle all this good ass pussy even if you offered it to him."

"well guess what, B? i'm comin' back for good, so let that nigga know all this shit mine," Jo-Vaughn growled, smacking her ass and leaving a red handprint behind, as Bianca felt his tip aggressively smash into her g-spot and she gasped, her grip suddenly tightening on him while her brows furrowed, "make any type of loud ass noise and i promise you i'll leave you here wet and horny without a single orgasm."

Bianca quickly covered her mouth and her eyes rolled back as her inner thighs began tingling, pleasure coursing through her veins while she felt herself slowly being pushed into overstimulation. tears pricked at her eyes and muffled moans and cries fell from her covered mouth as her headscarf slipped off her head and onto the bed, making her quickly grab it and toss it on the floor so it wouldn't be covered in her juices.

"babyyyy," Bianca whined, her brows furrowing, as she rested her hand on Jo-Vaughn's toned lower abdomen and attempted to push him away, "i-i can't—"

"mm-mm, move yo' hand, baby. you know you can handle this dick, c'mon now. look at how good you creamin' around it, princess, and you tellin' me you can't take it?" Jo-Vaughn questioned, a smirk on his face, as he raised his brow at the woman and watched her slowly retreat her hand from his stomach, making his smirk widen while he watched her body temple, "there you go, mama, look at you. takin' this dick like a big girl. i knew you could do it, you takin' all of it so good."

"it's s-so muchhh," Bianca cried, tears slipping down her cheeks, as a sadistic smile found its way onto Jo-Vaughn's face for a second time and he lightly tilted his head at her, "y-you hittin' my spot, Daddyyy..."

"i wish you could see how pretty you look right now. tears rollin' down ya face, hand coverin' ya mouth, eyes unfocusin' and rollin' back... you look so fuckin' good with that fucked-out look on ya face, mama," Jo-Vaughn cooed, biting down on his bottom lip, as Bianca's legs began to tremble and her cream and wetness began coating her inner thighs due to how rapidly it was oozing out of her, "i'm the luckiest muh'fucka' ever, mama. as long as i got you, i'll be the happiest nigga on the plant. this fame and fortune don't mean shit to me if i ain't got you to share it with. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Bianca. and i'll be damned if i gotta' stand by and watch another nigga experience the way you make me feel. i love you too much to let that shit just ride past me."

"i-i love you so much more, Jo-Vaughn," Bianca moaned, both of her hands now covering her mouth due to how much intense pleasure was hitting her at once, as her eyes rolled back for the millionth time and she tossed her head back onto Jo-Vaughn's broad shoulder, "o-oh, my God, i'm 'bout to cum!"

"tell me you mines and i'll let you cum. c'mon, let me hear those words leave those pretty lips," Jo-Vaughn cooed, kissing up and down her neck, as Bianca roughly bit down on her lip to suppress the loud moan that wanted to exit her mouth and her grip tightened on her face, "if i don't hear you say it, don't even think about bussin', pretty."

"i'm yours! yours, yours, yourssss! please, please, please let me cum! i can't hold it anymore!" Bianca cried loudly, her loudness being muffled by her hands, as tears streamed down her face at a quicker rate and she sobbed into her hands, her orgasm practically screaming to be released.

"cum for me, princess. let it alll out on yo' dick. gimme all that good shit." Jo-Vaughn's words made Bianca's knees buckle, and she leaned onto him for support as sounds of her gushiness sounded out into the bedroom and her jaw dropped, her eyes rolling back and her back arching deeply while her climax hit her like a freight train. a squeal fell from her lips as she came, her walls clenching and unclenching around Jo-Vaughn's phallus and earning groans from him as it did so.

her body tensed up and her bottom lip retreated between her teeth as she bit down on it so hard that it nearly bled, her chest heaving up and down at an irregular pace while Jo-Vaughn's deep strokes began slowing down. he placed kisses on her neck, ear, and the side of her face as he stroked her through her orgasm, his grip loosening on her neck while he caressed her breasts. removing her hands from her mouth, Bianca let out a soft and heavy sigh and her body relaxed as her vision corrected itself while she stared at the ceiling, letting everything that happened marinate in her mind while she breathed in through her nose and out through her parted lips.

"you know i love you, don't you?" Jo-Vaughn mumbled against her neck, making Bianca smile, as Bianca chuckled and ran her tongue over her lips, letting go of his wrist and wrapping her arm around his neck while she rubbed the nape of his neck.

"I know, baby, I know. I love you too."

#x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #smut #joey bada$$#joeybadass #x reader #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people #exes to lovers #request #one shot

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