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mizxeclipze · 8 months ago

Text

Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,”

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,”

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,”

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

#joel x reader #dbf!joel #road trip #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #i'm literally terrified to share this omg #concert without the concert #happy tlou day and happy birthday to joel #dbf trope has me in a chokehold

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year ago

Text

Bad Day

Summary: The reader's been kidnapped while working a lead in Montana. But her old friend Beau doesn't seem all that thrilled when he finds her...

Pairing: Beau x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, minor kidnapping

A/N: Wrote a little Beau to get over some writer's block. Enjoy!

_________

You sighed behind the tape over your mouth. God this was embarrassing. Held hostage by a pair of idiot drug dealers. You couldn’t believe it. To be fair, you weren’t expecting a guy to come around the corner of the house with a shotgun in hand.

A door kicked in nearby, your eyes darting to the left. A familiar shadow fell over the room, your shoulders relaxing as Beau cleared the space, jaw hard set. He frowned as he approached you, kneeling down slowly, careful as he pulled the tape away.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, leaning you forward slightly so he could cut through the zip ties behind you.

“Only hurt my pride,” you said, stretching your arms out in front of you. Beau’s face was grim though and a churn formed in your gut. “Did someone get hurt?”

“No,” he said, pulling you to your feet. He grabbed the radio off his belt, focus back on the doorway. “I got her. She looks alright but make sure a paramedic looks her over.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, not expecting the cold shoulder from Beau of all people.

“Just be quiet until we get the all clear.” You took your turn to frown. You’d known Beau a long time. Hell, he’d been your senior partner when you were a rookie back in Houston when he was still doing street patrols. It hadn’t been that long a run as partners but you’d always been friends, would run your cases by each other. Shit, that’s the whole reason you were up here, Beau helping you with a case you tracked this way. He didn’t still see you as that kid who didn’t know anything, did he?

After getting caught though, who the hell knew. You were disappointed in yourself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were too.

A long sixty seconds passed before everyone had checked in, Beau’s stance easing. You brushed past him and went upstairs, found your own way outside and over to an ambulance pulling up the drive. They examined you, wrapping up a scrape you’d gotten on your arm but otherwise you were fine.

Beau stormed out of the house grumpily as they were finishing, stalking over to where you sat at the end of the open abundance.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah. Minor bumps and bruises.”

“My officers are bringing two suspects out of the woods any minute. I’m told they’ll need medical attention.” Beau nodded towards a red truck and then his large hand was wrapped loosely around your bicep. You stared at him as he urged you forward, scanning the area once before your gaze shot to where he was focused straight ahead.

“I can walk on my own,” you said, tugging on your arm once but Beau ignored you. You opened your mouth but he ripped open the passenger side door, practically shoving you inside. You glared when he slammed the door shut, Beau behind the wheel quickly. “What do you think-”

“Can you just-” He bit his tongue, backing the truck out as you shook your head.

“What the hell is your problem? Yeah, I let two guys get the jump on me. That doesn't make me weak or a bad cop. It certainly doesn’t give you the right to treat me l-like I’m some sort of idiot. I asked you for help because my trail led me up here. I found that, that was my work. I am not-”

“Y/N, could you stop for one fucking second?” Beau snapped. He quickly pulled over and got out of the vehicle, walking on the shoulder. He stopped ten feet away from the truck, leaning over, hands on his knees, head tucked down low. You slipped outside, one hand on the door.

“Beau?” You took a few steps closer, Beau righting himself, hands on his hips. “What’s wrong?”

He laughed dryly, lowering his head as he spun around.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he asked back, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders as he raised his head to face you. “Em found a dead body five months ago. She was kidnapped. I barely managed to convince Carla to let Em stay so I could be there for her. I have just, just stopped hating myself for not being able to protect her and what happens again? Another fucking person I love gets kidnapped.”

“Beau…” You stepped closer, grabbing one of his hands as he took a deep breath. “I’m a cop. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I don’t care if you are capable, Y/N.” Worried green eyes watched you, an unease in them you didn’t like. “You are still mine to protect.”

You wanted to argue that you weren’t weak but his hand cupped your cheek in a so not friendly way, sliding back to your ear to brush a sweaty strand of hair aside.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, his hand starting to pull away. You caught it, Beau leaving it on your shoulder, playing with the ends of your hair. “Beau.”

“I should have been investigating with you. You could have been so hurt, darlin’.”

“For a chatterbox you know how to avoid a question, don’t you?” His lip nearly twitched up at that and you smiled softly. “Talk to me, Barlen.”

“Such a stupid nickname,” he chided, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You always liked it.”

“I did.” He swallowed thickly, tracing his thumb over your lip again. “You were always a good friend but when you came up to Montana without me even calling when you heard about Em…you were so good with her, keeping her mind off stuff while I found us that bigger place…I think I finally saw you for the first time. I was so goddamn scared you would get hurt today. I couldn’t think straight and I have only felt that helpless on one other case before. Em’s.”

Beau leaned in close, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pressing soft, moist lips against you. It was slow, oh so slow, but you could feel the heat behind it. The need for more. He moved away too soon though, fixing your hair once more as he did so.

“I didn’t mean to be an ass earlier. I just…didn’t want my team seeing me freaking out.”

“...We will discuss that later,” you said, wrapping your arms around his trim waist. He raised an eyebrow as you smiled. “Come on, we both had bad days. Give me a hug and kiss to make it better.”

“You…what are you saying?” You playfully growled, pressing your forehead against his strong body. “Do you…like me too?”

“It’s a miracle you were married once before. We’ll figure out labels tomorrow. Just kiss me, Barlen.”

“Fine, but only cause I was holding back on that last one.”

__________

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #beau x reader #beau arlen fanfic #big sky fanfic #beau arlen x #beau arlen x you

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gracieheartspedro · 2 years ago

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Crave

Part 3 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

find part 1 and 2 here!

dedication: @jenispunk <3 I love you sm jen. thank you for always supporting my writing and being the best wife a girl could ever dream of. you make my heart so happy. thank you for helping me edit and being the first to read this and encouraging me no matter what! love you love you love you!!!

description: a weekend escape with joel and sarah, kinda. the bed situation is a little confusing. luckily you and joel make it work. when sarah's not around, of course.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING AGAIN, dirty talk, daddy kink (aha), hotel sex?, begging? lmao I think that's it.

author's note: finally. it's here. I feel like I've been staring at this doc for 7 years. thank you all for your patience. I want to continue this series but I have to sit down and really brainstorm what I'd like the next parts to be. let me know your thoughts! THANK YOU FOR READING!

“My favorite Millers!”

Your face was beaming, seeing Joel hop out of his truck with Sarah in tow. The truck was still running, the diesel engine chugging louder than any truck you had been in before. Joel always had a nicer, newer truck. He made great money and he was always having to go into construction zones that needed an all terrain vehicle. They always got pretty banged up with dirt and rocks, but he took excellent care of the interior.

Joel grabs both of your bags, taking them to the backseat where Sarah would be crammed in with all the luggage. You give him a nod, silently thanking him. Sarah wraps her arms around your waist, giggling with excitement.

“I’m so happy you’re coming with us! It’s going to be a great weekend,” She explains while you two walk over to the tall truck. You always found climbing into a truck unnatural and awkward yourself, but it was hot watching Joel hop in with ease. You agree with Sarah, all the while opening up the door for yourself. Sarah springs up to her seat, and you struggle to crawl up into the cab. It makes Joel chuckle.

“I’m making you lift me into this thing next time,” you joke, easing back into the fabric seats, “Especially since you think watching me struggle is funny.”

Joel looks back in the rear view to see if Sarah’s paying attention, “‘s no problem at all, darlin’. I will gladly help you next time.”

You knew he was flirting. It makes your stomach bubble with excitement. He makes sure you two are buckled and starts on the two and half hour journey to Houston. Once you leave your neighborhood, Sarah taps your shoulder and holds out her new CD player. It’s purple and covered in sparkly stickers.

“Looks like your Dad is supplying you with all the ways to listen to music,” you observe, glancing over at Joel. He’s just watching the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other propped up on the shifter. He looks younger, the dusk sky the perfect back drop for his pronounced nose and beautiful eyelashes. You couldn’t help but stare, even as Sarah’s talking your ear off. He just nods along to her, making sure she knows she’s heard.

“Think I’m gonna listen to my Kelly Clarkson CD this time,” Sarah explains, putting her earphones over her voluminous curls, “So don’t try to talk to me!”

You and Joel giggle, shaking your heads at her comment. It’s not like you were the one’s talking before, you both think.

It gives you both a moment without a kid’s ears nearby.

“How was the rest of your work week?” He asks, tapping the shifter to the soft hum of the radio.

“Boring,” You mumble, “Think one of the guys in marketing has a crush on me and he’s making it impossible to avoid him. I can’t even go to the break room without him bothering me.”

You didn’t know why you felt the urge to tell Joel about the situation. It wasn’t even a real situation, it was just an annoying thing happening in your life.

“Hmph,” he ponders for a moment, “Want me to kill him?”

His tone is serious, but you know he’s just messing. You grin, nudging his arm with your elbow gently, ensuring it doesn’t move the steering wheel.

“My hero,” You comment as you watch a smile crack across his face, “No, thank you, though. If it starts to get to stalker status, I will call you.”

“Seems like stalkin’ already, baby girl.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip. You purse your lips, contemplating his words. Sure it was creepy, but the guy was scrawny and you could probably snap him in half with two fingers. He had nothing to really worry about. Right?

Joel steals a glance over at you.

“Maybe, but I’ll handle it.”

You wanted him to think you were strong enough to deal with unwanted attention, but to be honest, you weren’t sure how to say no to most men. You only ever had Tommy and he scared everyone away. Now everyone around town knew you were on the market, and men were drawn to your natural beauty and somewhat sassy attitude.

Little did they know, you were hung up on the other Miller boy.

“You let me know if you need me to talk to him,” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, just reaches his right hand out to rest on your thigh, “Man to man.”

His hand is so warm, you feel it through your black leggings. He was almost always like a furnace, but it was okay, because you always ran cold. But every time he touched you, you felt that warmth trail up your arms and legs. He made you feel different. Every fiber of your being became electrified when he was around. It was a sensation you never noticed when you were with Tommy. You begin chalking it up to just being nervous because he was older and larger and… well, hotter.

“Again, my hero,” you respond sarcastically, letting your hand rest on top of his. It makes him more confident, gently massaging that area. You watch as his hand creeps closer and closer to the crack between your legs. You practically gasp at the contact, but you catch yourself before you do, remembering there’s a child behind you.

So you smack his hand away, shooting him a glare.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’ just… sorry.”

You didn’t want him to pull away, your leg already missing his touch, but you knew what would happen if you did stuff like that in front of Sarah. She’s a teenage girl. She’ll talk. It’ll find it’s way to someone��s ears.

You wanted to act like you didn’t care if Tommy found out, but deep down you knew it would be a disaster. You didn’t feel like being the talk of the town. You didn’t feel like explaining yourself to Tommy. You didn’t feel like watching Joel deal with the flack from his family, especially his mother.

If you two wanted to continue this… game… you would have to keep it secret. That included keeping it away from Sarah’s eyes and ears. You and Joel would just be friends. You would just be her aunt. That’s it.

“Don’t apologize,” You whisper, “Just not here.”

You two let the radio take over the rest of the trip, occasionally chatting about a song or what the newscaster says about the weather. Once you get into Houston, it’s already 8:30 at night. Joel pulls into the parking garage to the Marriot and you already start craving the bed that awaits you inside.

“I call the bed near the window!” Sarah throws her stuff down, jumping straight onto one the huge queen size duvet. The room was nice. A large television set catches your eye immediately, proving that this was probably an expensive room if they were giving you free cable tv. The curtains were open, giving a beautiful view of Houston’s skyline.

One thing you notice, too, is the fact that there was only two beds. You knew this, but it still made your stomach sink a bit.

You realize you three hadn’t discussed the sleeping situation. You didn’t care where you would sleep, honestly. You just knew Sarah was a restless one, having slept next to her in a tent when she was 9. Family camping trips entailed you, Tommy, Joel, and Sarah sharing a 6 person tent and being absolutely miserable the whole entire time. Between Tommy’s snores and Sarah practically flailing all around the tent at night, you remember not getting a lick of sleep.

“Go get a shower, Sarah. We will figure out who’s sleeping where.”

She groans at Joel, like usual.

“Dad!”

“Shower,” he throws his bag down on the ground near the dresser, “No arguin’.”

Sarah sulks, her bag in hand, straight to the bathroom by the front door. You don’t say anything. You just start following Joel’s lead by putting your bags down next to his. You stand a bit too close to him, waiting for him to say where you’d be sleeping.

He clears his throat, “I will take the recliner, if you want the bed.”

“Of course I want the bed, but I don’t want you to have to sleep in the recliner.”

It makes him laugh, how matter-of-fact you are.

You hear Sarah start up the shower. You wouldn’t have to fear she hears you and Joel talk about the possibility of sleeping with one another. Again.

“It’s not a big deal,” He explains, unzipping his bags to grab his pajamas, “Sleep on the couch all the time.”

“But you have a nice plush couch,” You gesture towards the hard and structured looking recliner, “That doesn’t look comfortable at all.”

For a girl who didn’t want Joel touching you in the car, you were practically begging him to sleep next to you in the big comfortable hotel bed.

“So, where do you want me to sleep?”

“Just take the bed.”

“But you want the bed.”

You swallow, not even looking up at him, “We both can have the bed.”

He’s silent, gripping onto his sweatpants and t-shirt. He slowly looks down at you, his eyes carry a curious glint in them. You cock your head, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“You and Sarah?”

“No, you and Sarah.”

He groans, “You are a fuckin’ tease.”

You giggle, watching him brush pass you to position himself close to the closet. He opens the closet door, slipping in like he’s looking for something in there.

“What are you doing?”

“Changin’.”

“In the closet?”

He grabs his shirt from the nape of his neck and pulls it off smoothly. You can’t peel your eyes away, partially seeing his right peck from how he’s standing. It was like the morning after having sex with him. Your eyes were glued to him, his tanned skin practically asking to be touched and licked.

You horny bitch.

“Joel, get out of the closet.”

He chuckles, “Why? You want me to give you a show?”

Why yes, I really do, Joel. You think to yourself. You hum a response, peeling your eyes away. You needed to find your pajamas, a pair of Nike sports shorts and a black tank top. Lately, you’ve been sleeping completely naked, but that was obviously not an option here.

Sarah finally leaves the bathroom as soon as Joel slides his pants up. She has her hair wrapped in a towel, which makes you smile. She looked so grown up, it’s hard to believe you met her when she was 6 years old. You wordlessly walk into the bathroom, beginning to change your outfit for your sleep wear. You splash some cold water on your face, your cheeks still blushed from seeing Joel shirtless.

You hear the door outside open and close. You peak out, your traveling clothes wrapped up in your arms. Joel stands in the middle of the room, fiddling with the remote for the TV.

“Where did Sarah go?” You question, packing your clothes back into your duffle.

“She wanted to go get ice from the ice machine,” He grumbles, “Said she wanted to see if any of her teammates were awake or nearby.”

“Is her whole team staying here?”

“Yeah, pretty much every team gets a floor. Last year it was a like a huge sleepover. Fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel mutters, flicking through different channels, before landing on some westerns. You smirk, deciding to plop down on one of the beds. As soon as you lay back, Sarah comes back in, bucket in hand.

“Can I go stay in Amelia’s room? Her mom is there, just two doors down.”

Well that solves the bed problem.

Joel rolls his eyes, you can tell he’s already annoyed. “Is Amelia’s mom okay with that?”

“You want to go talk to her? I promise Dad, we will get up at 5:30 like we need to. Pleas-”

“Let’s go talk to Amelia’s mom.”

You hear them leave the room without saying anything else.

You were tired from a long day at work and the long drive. But some excitement blooms in your stomach when you realize it may just be you and Joel, all alone in a hotel room.

Before you have time to ponder all the wonders that may be in store for you, Joel comes back with a frustrated huff.

“She staying over there?”

“Yeah, Amelia’s mom said it was fine. Then she started askin’ who you were. Guess they saw us in the hotel lobby.”

Your stomach twists, nervous at what his response was.

“And?”

“Told her you were Sarah’s aunt. She gave me a weird look.”

“Great, now the soccer mom’s will be oogling me tomorrow.”

“Well they will anyway,” Joel responds, finding a spot next to you on the edge of the bed, “Single ones won’t leave me alone.”

You know he’s really just seeing if you’ll get jealous. But you don’t play into his little game. You just let out a loud hearty laugh.

“The ladies just love a Miller.”

He grumbles something inaudible, nudging you with his elbow. “You do, don’t ya?”

“Sure do.”

His face softens, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

You grin, “She’s 14 and super goofy. Loves to play socc-”

“You’re truly testin’ me today, ain’t ya?”

You can’t help yourself at that point. The way he’s flirting only gives you more reason to taunt him.

“Is Sarah seriously going to be gone from the room all night?”

“Yeah,” He nods, leaning back on his palms. He acts like he’s watching TV, ignoring your not-so-subtle hints that you want his eyes on you.

“So, I can finally ask you why you think it’s okay to tease me in the car?”

“Don’t know what you’re on about, darlin’,” He smirks, he knows.

You tilt your head to the side, finally lifting your hand onto his lap. You immediately start toying with him the same way, your hand creeping towards his crotch. His eyes peel away from the TV. He watches you closely, his eyes trailing from your gaze down to your fingers dancing on his pant leg.

“You put your hand on my thigh and started inching closer and cl-“

“Are you tryin’ to make a point or pose a question?”

He was getting annoyed with the games already. But you’d only just begun.

“I’m just trying to explain how you can’t do things like that to me in front of Sarah,” You remark, flicking your eyelashes up to his glare, “Especially when you can’t finish it.”

“Who said I ain’t gonna?”

You huff, “Well here we are, all alone in a hotel room. No kiddo in sight. Still not touching me.”

“Don’t think you deserve it cause you’re a tease.”

“How am I a tease, Miller?”

“You exist and that’s enough. Walkin’ around in a tank top,” He gestures to your chest, “Just beggin’ to be touched.”

Your skin is set alight. The words go straight to your core.

“Joel-“

You’re cut off. His hands work quickly, pulling you by the nape of your neck, right to his eager lips. You begin to realize you had been longing for this moment for so long. He couldn’t resist anymore, his whole body buzzing at the fact that he finally has you again.

His lips are soft and slow as they make their way around yours. His hands eventually trail down to your butt, his hands cradling both cheeks. He lifts you forward, sliding you up and onto his lap.

“Been wantin’ this for months, baby.”

Butterflies erupt in the pit of your tummy. You can feel them travel up to your chest as you look down at him, his eyelids heavy and his lips pursed.

He waited for you to respond to his calls, knowing you needed time. He needed to be patient. You would come around, he knew it. After months, here you are.

He thinks back to every time he was touching himself late at night, he would imagine the night you two shared. Your soft curves and needy dripping pussy. It drove him wild imagining you like this again.

“I think it’s been more than wantin’, Joel,” You grind down on his prominent bulge growing in his sweatpants, “Think you need it.”

He grins, finally getting out of his own head.

“Such a little tease, damn it.”

You lean down, mindlessly speckling kisses behind his ear and neck. Your boobs rest right in front of his face, and you’re right, he needs it. His hands leave your behind, reaching up to the straps of your tank top. He tugs them down your biceps, allowing your cleavage to spill out more.

Your hands find his dark peppered curls at the nape of his neck, pulling downward. You needed him closer and he obliged. He starts to kiss your collarbones, wandering down to the swell of your breasts. You can feel yourself staining your sports shorts with anticipation.

You rock your hips, craving more. He takes the hint, reaching back down to lift you from your ass. He switches spots, laying you on your back on the plush white duvet. He’s leaning over you now, which gives you a great view of how spent he looks already. His gray sweatpants are hanging lower, tenting where his cock has grown hard.

He smirks, taking off his shirt the same way he did earlier. With one hand, it slips right over his head and onto the floor.

“Jesus,” You huff out, using the time to remove your top, “I need you, Joel.”

The smirk never leaves his lips. He leans down, pushing your legs apart with his pointer and middle finger. You open up for him, wanting nothing more for him to dive into you in every possible way. You watch as he slides his fingers up your thigh, past the openings of your shorts.

He realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. He sighs as he swipes the pads of his fingers across your wet slit.

“I know you do,” He drawls, watching you writhe under his touch, “You need me as much as I need you.”

He practically tears off your shorts, not wasting any time fighting with the fabric.

You adjust how your laying to accommodate him laying between your thighs. He lays down on his stomach, bringing your hips close to his mouth. You watch as he kisses your inner thighs, his breath hot fanning against your skin.

You remember the last time you were in this position. You spent night after night remembering the best head you’ve ever gotten, from the one and only, Joel Miller. And you could tell Joel was not going to go another moment without making you cum on his tongue.

When his tongue hits the top of your slit, you whine at the contact. He presses his face in, diving deeping into your lips. As soon as he finds your clit, he puts all his attention there. His nose is pressed against your mound as he hums against your sensitive bud.

“Joel,” You cry, reaching down between your legs to grab the crown of his head, your hands lacing into his locks, “Right fuckin’ there.”

He continues his movements, only increasing in speed in which he flicks his tongue. He wraps his lips over the swollen area, sucking and lapping your sweetness. He pulls away, the slick between your thighs missing him instantly. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and wets them with saliva. He glances up at your completely dazed face.

“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers first,” His voice is deep and hushed, “Make you cum. You gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You don’t even know where it comes from. But you say it with your chest.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You never expected the moan to come out of his mouth. It’s deep and guttural. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he can’t believe the words came from your mouth. His good girl? That fuckin’ flithy?

He slips his fingers into you without resistance. His mouth finds it’s way back to your core, fucking you in unison.

You reach up to your chest, cradling your own boobs. Joel’s still only in sweatpants but they are riding low on his hips. As he’s giving you his all, he’s grinding his hips into the bed, trying to get whatever friction he can. Watching the motion alone is driving you wild, sending your hips rotating on his tongue. You knew the release was coming, you could feel it in your fingertips.

And when it comes, it’s like fireworks inside your stomach and chest. You lurch forward, crying out his name. You knew it was probably way too loud for the thin hotel walls, but you couldn’t help yourself. The orgasm sends stars speckling across your vision.

Joel fucks you through the comedown. You are the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, he thinks. When your body rests back, you’re panting, trying to ground yourself for a second. Joel pulls his fingers out and sucks each digit.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” You mewl, reaching out for him. You just need to touch him.

He shimmies his sweatpants down and off his legs. He’s sitting back on his knees, smiling down at your desperate eyes. He crawls on top of you, his dick prodding at your thighs. He leans down, trapping your lips into another longing kiss. His hands trail down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls back after a couple seconds, gazing into your eyes.

“You still on that birth control?”

You hum in response.

“Need me to pull out still?”

You smirk, lacing your arms around his shoulders, “No. Need you to cum inside me.”

He shakes his head, sitting back to line himself with your entrance.

“My dirty girl,” He runs his cock head between your swollen red lips, triggering your hips to move closer to him, “You drive me insane.”

“Come on, Joel. I’ve been waiting for ages for you to fuck me. Need you. Now.”

He chuckles darkly, still not giving you what you want. “Waiting ages, huh?”

“Joelllll,” You beg, smacking his chest, “Please.”

“Mmm,” He pushes forward just enough to relieve your ache, “Love it when you beg for it.”

He practically splits you open when he snaps his hips. You both groan simultaneously, unable to hold back this sick fantasy you’re both playing into. You feel more full than you ever did before. You don’t remember it hurting this good.

“Holy fuck,” you whine, “So fucking full, Joel.”

He slowly pulls back, “You tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You shake your head, throwing your head back as he sets a cautious pace. He’s watching all your facial expressions, making sure he’s not hurting you. You wince when he starts to pick up the pace, which causes him to halt completely.

“No,” You plead, “More. Faster. Please, just please.”

He says nothing, just pushes up your thighs so the back of them are flush with the front of his. He leans over you, his elbows on each side of your head. He grinds into you while his dark curls fall into your face. You tilt your head up, finding the crook of his neck again.

His cock felt so good dragging in out of you. You felt like you could stay in this position forever. You molded so perfectly around him. He treated you like this beautiful mural, taking his time with delicate strokes. His hands wrapped around the back of your head, holding you in the curve of his body.

You latch your lips onto his neck, peppering lovebites everywhere. You didn’t even think about if they could be seen later. In the moment, you only thought of him as yours. He was yours and everyone would fucking know it.

He’s starting to get more greedy. He pulls back, his warmth moving away from your perked up nipples. His upper body the best view you could get, so you couldn’t complain too much. He grabs behind your knees, using them as leverage as he starts to pound into you.

Your eyes meet and for fuck’s sake, he’s perfect. You never knew you could see Joel Miller like this. Like someone who fucked you so good, but also cared so tenderly for you. He wanted to see you in the throws of pleasure, not even worrying about when he’d get his rocks off. He got his rise out of seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

His ravenous drive to bring you to the edge is causing the headboard to slam against the wall which each stroke. He brings his left hand up to your bouncing tits, grabbing your nipple and tugging on it. He knew what touching your boobs did to you. He remembers watching your visceral reactions to him toying with them before. It brings a smile to his face.

“I’m gonna-”

You don’t even finish your sentence, you just gasp as you feel his cock head hit the deepest parts of you. A place no other man has made it to.

“I don’t want anyone else,” He musters out, his teeth clenching as your pussy restricts around him. He means it. He may be drunk on you, but he feels those words down to his bones. “I only ever want this.”

It was never just about the sex. Joel cared for you. Fuck, maybe he even loved you.

You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. You glance down, watching his cock slip so perfectly, in and out of you.

“I’m yours, Joel,” You manage to peep out before the orgasm you’ve been holding back builds to a maddening point, “I’m yours.”

The words make his cock twitch. He can’t help himself, he needs you to cum right this very moment. He doesn’t say anything, just unhooks your legs and uses his right hand to put pressure on your clit. Tears start to prick in your eyes as he lazily rubs circles, humming in satisfaction. He feels you tightening up, he knows your close.

Your vision goes white. You body starts to vibrate, the pure bliss he’s sending you into takes you to a whole other dimension. You want more. More. More. More.

As he watches you seize up, he can’t resist his own orgasm. The explosion sends him into a moaning mess. He fucks into you, painting your walls with his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

He collapses on top of you. You don’t even care, you feel like jello anyway, he could melt right into you.

He rolls off after a minute.

You always miss him when he’s not near you.

You stare at the ceiling, pondering the right words to say to him. Nothing comes to mind. He gets up, walking naked to the bathroom. He grabs a rag from the shelf above the toilet, running it under some warm water.

When he returns, you let him clean all around your body. You make sure he doesn’t wipe away the wet kisses he left all over you, though.

“You okay?”

You finally look at him.

You want to say yes, because you were okay. Physically. But your heart wanted to pulsate out of your chest.

“I will be,” You state simply, “Just tired.”

He slowly starts grabbing all your articles of clothing off the floor, dressing you once he collects all of them. He’s careful with you. Gentle.

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed?”

The question rings in your ears. Of course you did.

“As long as you get up at the ass crack of dawn and move before Sarah comes in.”

He chuckles, pulling his sweatpants back over his waist. He doesn’t even bother to put on his shirt.

“Will do, baby.”

When you wake up, you realize the overheard light flickered on. You contort your sleep dazed body, Joel’s upper body practically laying over you. You try to blink the haze out of your eyes, but your tired mind is completely shocked when you see an outline of a girl.

Shitshitshitshitshit.

You fling your body upward, rattling Joel awake. He’s startled, his arms flinging off of you.

“I knew it!” Her voice is piercing. “I knew it! Holy shit!”

“Sar-”

“Are you two dating? Or are you just… wait, ew!”

She’s rambling, her words clashing together in confusion. Your heart is about to hammer out of your chest.

“Sarah, we aren’t dating,” You declare, your voice shaking.

“But you’re sleeping together?”

You could cut the silence with a sword. It’s so thick and awkward.

A 14 year old girl shouldn’t know you’re sleeping with her Dad. Let alone walk in after you spent all night tangled up in him.

“Sarah,” Joel’s voice is buttery and raspy after he wakes up. You hold the comforter up to your chest. You had your tank top on, but it hangs so low on you, you don’t want to risk anything. “Grab your uniform, get dressed. We can talk about this later.”

“Does Uncle To-”

“Sarah! Stop!”

It scares you since it’s so close to your ear. His voice changes so abruptly, it makes you cringe a bit.

Hearing the question from Sarah’s lips makes you feel queasy. Having the girl who you always considered your niece ask if her uncle knew you were sleeping with her dad... God what a fucking mess.

You watch her storm across the room, grabbing her backpack and race to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Joel groans next to you as he slams back into the plush pillows.

“She will be fine. We will talk about it later,” Joel says under his breath.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

You hadn’t thought much of this through. Ever since you and Joel first slept together, you pushed your harbored feelings to the side. Sometimes they creep in, which would send you into a panic. Because deep down, you knew you felt something for Joel. Something you hadn’t felt since you first started dating Tommy. Maybe even ever. It was exciting. He made you feel special. After everything he said to you last night, you knew he possessed some similar emotions and feelings.

You felt crazy for believing this could work.

You knew this would be complicated. Now Sarah is involved. How do you explain these emotions to a child? You don’t.

You think about all the horrible outcomes to this situation. Tommy wanting to fight Joel. His mom never accepting you back into the family. Who knows, maybe Sarah gets so upset at the situation, she never treats you the same again.

But then you think about Joel. How he’s a night and day difference to what Tommy was to you. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to take care of you every chance he could.

You start to think back to the times when you were still with Tommy. Joel defended you when you two had a blowout fight. He always made sure to have a watchful eye on you when you all went out to bars. He was even there when you graduated college, giving you a bouquet of beautiful daises he swore up and down Sarah picked out. But you knew the truth. Joel loved daisies. He even had his Mom plant some in his front yard last year.

You were just so scared. You didn’t want to be hurt again. You did not want your feelings to be wrong.

You glance down at him, your back still turned. He could read your face, he knew you were overthinking everything. Your mind was working overtime, trying to muster up some excuse to run away and forget everything that happened between you two. There was nothing normal about this situation.

But fuck, you both really wanted it. So bad. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

His hand creeps up your back, resting a reassuring palm on your aching shoulder.

“Stop thinkin’ for a minute,” he whispers, “You don’t need to make any decisions right this minute. We will just take it one second at a time. Ain’t no way ‘m lettin’ you go. I want you here.”

You didn’t know if he meant here in general or in the figurative sense.

He meant it both ways.

Maybe it was crazy, but that feeling was deep in your chest. This palpable inkling that this could evolve into you being his.

This being more than sex? More than a crush?

Being Joel’s sounded like a fever dream.

He wanted nothing more but to wrap you up into his arms, hold you and kiss your head, reassuring you that you two can figure it out together. But instead, Sarah walks out in her soccer uniform, squashing the moment. She stands in front of the bed, finally making eye contact with you.

“You guys gonna get up and watch me kick ass, or are you gonna to lay in bed all day?”

You smile at her. You silently prayed this girl would stay in your life forever.

“I know my answer.”

Joel smiles, “’s go kick some ass.”

again thank you for reading!! let me know your thoughts!

find part 1 and 2 here!

#how long #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #gracieheartspedro #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel tlou #tommy miller #joel last of us smut #joel the last of us #tlou gifs

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beardedmrbean · 10 months ago

Text

A newborn baby boy was discovered Sunday in a dumpster behind an apartment complex in southwest Houston.

Video footage obtained by local news outlet ABC13 shows emergency services rescuing the baby from the trash and wrapping him in a blanket. The baby's skin is pink and hair wet.

The police responded to a call around 2 p.m. on Sunday from a man who heard a baby crying from a dumpster. When the officers rescued the newborn, he was reacting and moving his hands, as seen in the video.

ABC13 reported that on Tuesday afternoon investigators from the Houston Police Department appeared to focus their attention on a nearby food truck, taking photos and interviewing individuals identified as employees and owners. The truck had been parked at the location for about three months, according to the apartment manager.

The baby was taken to the hospital, found to be in good health, and is now under the care of Child Protective Services, according to local reports.

Police are reportedly continuing to investigate to identify the person responsible for abandoning the baby. Newsweek contacted the police department for more information via email.

A similar incident was reported in Pasadena, in the Houston area, only a few hours prior.

According to local media outlets, the Pasadena Police Department said it received a call around 4:15 a.m. from a person identifying themselves as a father who was having a mental health crisis and looking for a safe place to leave his baby. The infant was later found in a car seat by a dumpster next to a restaurant, authorities say.

The child appears to be "healthy and in good condition," according to child services.

The father appeared in court on Tuesday. He is facing charges of assault of a family member and child abandonment, and is expected to appear in court again on Wednesday.

A third baby was also reportedly abandoned on a walking trail earlier this year, believed to be just hours old.

Texas' Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, states that parents who leave a baby in a safe place such as a hospital or fire station will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.

The law states that the baby must be under 60 days old, unharmed, and placed with an employee of these safe places. It exists to give "parents who are unable to care for their child a safe and legal choice," according to the state's Department of Family and Protective Services.

Similar laws exist throughout the country, although the details of the baby's age and what is considered a "safe place" can vary from state to state.

DFPS - Baby Moses Law or Safe Haven

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venactricisfics · 25 days ago

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Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter List

More self-love in this chapter 18+

The sunlight peeked through the thin hotel curtains, golden and uninvited. I rolled over with a groggy groan, clutching the pillow next to me like it was a person. Like it was him.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Ryan. 7:02 AM Incoming Call

I smiled before I even answered. “You miss me already?”

His voice was warm and low, still heavy with sleep. “Didn’t even sleep. Not really. I just kept seeing you every time I closed my eyes.”

I tucked the phone against my cheek, curling deeper under the blanket. “Yeah? What part were you thinking about?”

He chuckled. “Hard to pick. Might’ve replayed the way you said my name a few times. Maybe more than a few.”

I laughed softly. “I mean… I was award-winning last night.”

“Mm,” he hummed, “You won something alright. Took my damn soul with you when you hung up.”

That made my chest ache in the best way.

I glanced toward the mirror across the room—hair a mess, sheet half-wrapped around me, skin still buzzing from everything we shared through a screen. “You lookin’ rough this morning?”

“Probably. You?”

I stretched with a groan. “Like I just got wrecked in the best possible way.”

Ryan exhaled a soft laugh. “That’s my girl.”

We were quiet for a beat, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. I could hear the faint chirp of birds on his end, maybe the clink of a coffee mug.

“You did good yesterday,” he finally said, gentle but firm. “I’m proud of you.”

I closed my eyes. “That means more than I know how to say.”

“You don’t have to say it,” he replied. “I already know.”

I smiled into the phone. “You always this sappy in the morning?”

“Only when I wake up still in love with you,” he said, no hesitation.

My breath caught, heart thudding a little harder.

“I wish you were here,” I whispered.

“I will be,” he said. “Soon as I can. And when I get there—hell, baby, I might not let you out of my arms for a week.”

“That’s fine. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You better not.”

“Remind Rip he can pick up his horse from Emily later today,” I said as I sat on the edge of the hotel bed, slipping on my boots. “I still hate that I left y’all short-handed just to come out here.”

Ryan’s voice was steady and warm on the other end of the line. “I’ll let him know, baby. And don’t worry—we’re not that short-handed. Colby came back with Teeter. He’s sticking around for a while.”

I paused, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. “Yeah? That’s good. At least you’ve got your best friend back to keep you company. You won’t miss me too much.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I dunno about that. Colby doesn’t look nearly as good in jeans as you do, so I’m still gonna be countin’ down the days.”

I grinned, feeling that familiar flutter low in my stomach. “You just sayin’ that ‘cause you’re sleep-deprived and miss my cooking?”

“Nah,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make my pulse skip. “I’m sayin’ it ‘cause it’s true. And because every time I walk past your damn truck, I get this ache in my chest like I’m twenty again and stupid in love.”

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, caught off guard by the softness behind his words. “You make it real hard to focus on roping cows when you talk like that.”

He chuckled again, slow and low. “Well, win today and get your ass back here sooner. I’ll be waitin’.”

“I will,” I promised. “You’ll get your girl back soon enough.”

“Hell yeah, I will.”

I grabbed my bag and gave the hotel room one last look, making sure I hadn’t left anything behind. “Alright,” I said, adjusting the strap on my shoulder, “I’m heading down to meet Travis so we can get on the road to Houston. You need to go, or you want to stay on the phone with me a little longer?”

“I’ll take every chance I get to hear your voice, baby,” Ryan said, his voice like warm honey in my ear. “Ain’t in no rush.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I stepped into the hallway. “You always know just how to make a girl feel all tingly inside.”

“That’s ‘cause I know you better than anyone else,” he said, teasing just enough to earn a soft laugh from me. “I know exactly where to aim.”

“Oh, do you now?” I grinned, heading toward the parking lot, the early morning sun already heating up the pavement. “Big talk for a man sleeping in a tent in the middle of a Texas field.”

He chuckled low, and I could hear the shuffle of boots on the dirt. “Big talk, but I’ve backed it up more than once.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, climbing up into the truck, “and I’m still recovering. Now let me go make you proud in Houston.”

“You already did,” he said, quieter this time. “But go knock ‘em dead, cowgirl. Then hurry on home.”

“Working on it,” I said softly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “I’ll call you tonight?”

“You better.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

I ended the call and stared out the windshield for a second, letting the quiet settle. Travis fired up the engine and pulled out of the lot—Houston, here we come.

“I used to be dumb and in love,” Travis said, eyes still on the road, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

I turned away from the window just enough to catch the look on his face. “Yeah?” I laughed, “Now you’re just dumb.”

He snorted. “Careful. I could leave you right here on the side of this highway.”

I leaned back against the seat, unbothered. “And who would you get to ride that beast in the trailer? Pretty sure he only tolerates me.”

Travis shook his head. “Tolerates is generous. He’s been giving me the side eye since day one.”

“Smart horse,” I grinned. “Knows where the brains are in this operation.”

“You know, for someone hitching a ride with me, you’ve got a lot of attitude,” he said, flicking his eyes toward me.

I stretched my legs out and crossed them at the ankle. “It’s the only thing keeping you awake on this long-ass drive. You’re welcome.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Dumb and in love was easier to deal with.”

“Probably quieter too,” I teased, resting my head against the window again. “But not nearly as fun.”

We’d been driving for over an hour, the highway stretching out like a lazy ribbon ahead of us, Texas heat already rippling on the pavement. Travis had one arm slung casually over the wheel, the other tapping the beat of some old George Strait song on the steering wheel.

“You always listen to this stuff when you’re driving?” I asked, flicking at the volume knob. “Feels like we should be herding cattle, not hauling a horse to Houston.”

“It’s called atmosphere,” he said, mock offended. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s tired,” I countered, grabbing my phone. “We’re doing this my way for a little bit.”

He side-eyed me. “If you put on that bubblegum girl pop crap—”

I clicked play. A loud, upbeat pop song filled the truck.

“—I’m pulling this truck over,” he finished flatly.

I leaned back, grinning like a gremlin. “You said you’d leave me on the side of the highway anyway. At least let me vibe on the way out.”

Travis groaned, but didn’t turn it off. “You’re lucky I like you. Barely.”

“I’m charming,” I said, propping my boots up on the dash.

“You’re a menace,” he shot back. “You’ve got that evil little smile like you’re plotting my downfall.”

“Only a minor downfall,” I said. “One where I still make Nationals and you get to pretend you were the genius coach behind it all.”

He snorted. “If you win in Houston, I’m printing business cards.”

“You do that,” I smirked. “I’ll sign your first one with a glitter pen and everything.”

Travis pulled off the highway, the truck rattling a bit as he eased into the gravel lot of a gas station and diner combo. One of those places that had sun-faded signs and dusty vending machines, but the kind of coffee that could keep a man alive through a hundred-mile stretch of nothing.

“You hungry?” he asked, stretching his arms as he parked. “Or you just want a photo in front of the world’s saddest cowboy statue over there?”

“I’m starving,” I said, hopping down from the truck. “But I am getting that photo after I eat. For the memories.”

“You’re the reason I carry Advil,” he muttered, slamming the door behind him.

We made our way inside, the screen door creaking dramatically behind us like we’d stepped into a Western. Inside smelled like bacon grease, fryer oil, and cinnamon toast—all the important food groups.

“You want the usual?” he asked, already heading toward the counter.

“You don’t even know what my usual is.”

“You’re a breakfast-all-day kinda girl,” he said. “Probably pancakes, extra syrup, side of sausage. And you drink coffee like it owes you money.”

I blinked. “Okay, stalker.”

He smirked. “You’re not that hard to read, cowgirl.”

I slid into the booth, tugging off my hat and setting it beside me. “You’ve been paying attention. I’m almost impressed.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said as he placed the order. “I’m just making sure you don’t pass out mid-run and make me look bad.”

“Sure,” I drawled. “You keep telling yourself it’s not because you care.”

The waitress dropped off two mugs of coffee and a smile like we were her favorite drama. Travis nodded his thanks and slid mine over. “Drink up. You’ve got another four hours of road and at least two more snarky comebacks before Houston.”

I raised my mug to him. “To caffeine and emotional repression.”

He clinked his mug against mine. “And to not killing each other before we make it.”

With breakfast for lunch completed, Travis headed out to the truck to fill up.

“I gotta pee, don’t leave without me,” I called to him.

“As long as we don’t listen to any more of the girl shit,” he called back. I made no promises. I took care of my needs, then loaded up my arms with road snacks. And a couple of to-go coffees. Making both just how I liked it. Lots of cream and four pumps of vanilla syrup.

“You’re not eating that shit in my truck,” he looked at the snacks, “this is has alligator seats.”

“Fuck me, did you skin it yourself?” I responded.

Travis chuckled, tossing me a smirk as he finished filling the tank. “Nah, but I know a guy. You better be careful with those snacks, though. I don’t want crumbs all over my leather.”

“Hey, if you don’t want crumbs, maybe you shouldn’t drive around in a rolling luxury suite,” I shot back, handing him a coffee as I climbed into the truck.

He gave me a look, but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes. “You’re lucky I like you. Now, if you spill that coffee—”

“I won’t spill anything. I’m not a heathen,” I said, taking a sip of the coffee, enjoying the sweetness as I relaxed into the seat.

“Yeah, well, if you’re not careful, you’ll have sugar running through your veins instead of blood,” he teased as he started the engine, the low growl of the truck vibrating under us.

“Guess I’ll die of a sugar high instead of caffeine withdrawal,” I replied, leaning back, feeling that familiar road trip energy building. “So, what’s the plan once we hit Houston? I don’t feel like doing the whole ‘wait around’ thing while you do your rodeo thing.”

“You don’t like waiting around?” he raised an eyebrow, glancing at me.

“Nope,” I answered, popping the ‘p’. “I’d rather find something to do. Explore. You know, while you’re doing whatever it is you do at these things.”

He smirked again, eyes back on the road. “I like the sound of that. But you better not get yourself into any trouble. I’ll be right there to bail you out.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” I shot back with a grin. “But I’m pretty sure I can handle myself. I’m not a damsel.”

He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. “Never said you were. But trouble always finds the best of us, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe. But I plan to make it my own kind of trouble,” I said, giving him a playful wink before settling back into the seat, the hum of the road taking over as we cruised toward the next stop.

“How’s married life treatin’ you?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity, though there was a playful edge to it.

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a sideways glance. “How did you know?” I replied, half expecting him to pull some kind of joke or make a sarcastic remark.

He grinned, his smirk widening just a bit as he shrugged. “Anytime a good-looking woman goes off the market, I get an email,” he chuckled, clearly proud of his little network of inside info.

I laughed, shaking my head in amusement. “Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t know I had such a following.”

He gave me a wink, eyes still focused on the road, though I could sense the humor in his tone. “Oh, you’re definitely a hot commodity. Can’t let that slip away without a few people noticing.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Right. As if anyone would actually want to deal with me being off the market.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, “It’s not that bad. The married life thing, I mean. At least now you get to deal with only one person’s shit.”

I snorted. “One person’s shit? Try more like one person’s laundry and another person’s dirty dishes, but hey, same difference.”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the truck as we drove down the highway. “Ah, so it’s like that, huh? Well, as long as you’re not scrubbing toilets and giving up your sense of freedom, I think you’ll survive.”

“Yeah, well,” I said with a sigh, “I guess time will tell. But for now, it's good. Different, but good.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “As long as you don’t let that ring slow you down, I’m sure it’ll all work out fine. You’ve got enough fire in you to keep things interesting, married life or not.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

“We get to Houston, I gotta make a stop and pick something up,” he said, his eyes scanning the road as we cruised along.

I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “If you’d let me drive, we might get there faster.”

He shot me a look, half-smirking, half-serious. “Nobody drives my truck but me,” he replied, his tone final as he tightened his grip on the wheel.

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, but I couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at my lips. “Your truck, your rules, huh? Guess I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Damn right,” he said, throwing me a quick glance. “And you can sit back, but you’ll have to keep up with me. I’m not slowing down for anybody.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. Speed demon.”

He chuckled, glancing in the rearview mirror before settling his gaze back on the road. “You know it. Can’t let you beat me to Houston, now, can I?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure we’ll both get there in one piece. But don’t expect me to be impressed by your driving skills,” I teased, leaning back against the seat and stretching my legs out.

He snorted. “Impressed or not, I’ll be the one calling the shots. Just sit tight, cowgirl.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, knowing full well it wasn’t the first—or last—time he’d be in control. But, hell, it wasn’t the worst thing either.

I passed out with my face pressed against the window, lulled by the hum of the highway and the warmth of the sun. When the truck finally rolled to a stop, I blinked awake, the glass leaving a faint imprint on my cheek. We were here. Houston.

“Anyone ever tell you you talk in your sleep?” Travis said, shutting off the engine with a smirk already tugging at his lips.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched. “God, what did I say?”

He opened his door and slid out. “Not much, just a whole lotta ‘Ryan’ this and ‘kiss me there’ that.”

I groaned, my face burning hotter than the Texas pavement. “You’re making that up.”

“Am I?” he grinned. “Guess we’ll never know. But I will say—you’re lucky I’m not the type to record things.”

I grabbed my bag and climbed out after him, rolling my eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, well, I just drove us six hours without crashing, so I’d say I’m at least tolerable.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine as we headed toward the stables. “Tolerable’s a stretch.”

He laughed. “Keep talking in your sleep like that, and you’re gonna make me blush.”

“You wish,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop the smile pulling at my lips.

Houston, ready or not—we’d officially arrived.

“Why are we here?” I asked, squinting up at the sign above the shop door—The Polished Spur.

“Told you I had to pick something up,” Travis said, already halfway to the door. “You can stand out here gawking or come in and look at all the shiny shit.”

Where some girls would lose their minds over a boutique full of shoes and handbags, this—this—was my version of heaven. The scent of leather and saddle soap hit me the second I stepped inside, wrapping around me like a familiar hug. Rich, earthy, and just a little sharp—clean and raw all at once.

My fingers automatically drifted along a display of reins and headstalls, polished silver buckles gleaming under the shop lights. I didn’t need anything new, but I could lose a paycheck in here easy.

Travis glanced over his shoulder, amused. “Thought you said you weren’t into shiny stuff.”

“Only when it’s practical,” I muttered, already drawn toward a wall of custom breast collars.

A man behind the counter gave us a nod. “Let me know if you need anything. We just got a shipment in from a ranch outta Montana—high-grade stuff.”

Travis made a beeline for the back, clearly knowing what he came for. I took my time. Let him do his thing. I found a rack of spurs, each set prettier than the last, and more than a few sturdy enough to make a statement in the ring and a bar fight.

“You sure you don’t wanna get married?” I teased as he came back toward me, a long box in his hands.

“Ha,” he said dryly. “This ain’t for me. It’s a gift.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? For who?”

He smirked. “You’ll see.”

I followed him to the register, trying not to be too curious. But I wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all Travis.

I grabbed a bag of apple and molasses treats for Bloom, hoping a little bribery might win me even more of his affection. As the clerk finished ringing up Travis’s mystery purchase, I set the bag on the counter.

“Put those on his tab,” I said with a sweet smile.

Travis didn’t even look up. “Don’t you have money?”

“I do,” I said, casually leaning an elbow on the counter, “but where’s the fun in spending mine when you’re standing right there with that big wallet and those big feelings?”

The clerk looked between us with raised brows, then chuckled. “She your daughter?”

I couldn’t help it. I snorted.

Travis grimaced like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Seriously?”

“Oh my God,” I laughed, gripping the edge of the counter to stay upright, “His daughter? Sir, I’m gonna need a minute.”

Travis shook his head, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this moment. “She’s not my daughter, she’s just a pain in my ass.”

The clerk held up both hands, grinning. “Hey, no offense meant. Y’all bicker like family.”

“Well,” I said, still giggling, “that’s because he’s old and grumpy, and I’m charming and full of life. It’s a natural balance.”

“I’m regretting buying that gift now,” Travis muttered, grabbing the box and heading for the door.

“Too late,” I called after him, snatching up the bag of treats and offering the clerk a wink. “Thanks for the laugh, cowboy.”

“Anytime, ma’am,” the clerk replied, tipping his hat. “Come back soon—and maybe bring your dad next time.”

“Stop!” I wheezed, chasing after Travis before he could leave me behind.

I climbed back up in the truck, still laughing so hard I had to wipe tears from my eyes.

“Fuck, I needed that,” I said, breathless as I buckled in. “So, Daddy, what did you buy me?”

Travis side-eyed me, that wicked grin tugging at his mouth. “Sweetheart, the only time women call me Daddy is when they’re screaming it.”

I slapped his arm with a laugh. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, but I’m generous. Open it. It’s a late wedding gift, I suppose.”

I turned the box toward me and peeled back the lid. My breath caught in my throat.

The saddle inside was nothing short of stunning—rich, tooled leather with detailed floral carving, silver conchos that gleamed even in the low light, and a custom-stitched seat in—

“Pink?” I blinked at him, half in awe, half horrified.

He gave me a smug shrug. “Blame the clerk. Said you looked like the type to ride hard and still want to sparkle doing it.”

I traced my fingers along the smooth cantle, unable to hide my grin now. “It’s actually really beautiful,” I admitted, eyes still on the craftsmanship. “And you… you’re kind of a sap under all that sarcasm.”

“Say that again and I’ll take it back,” he said, shifting into gear. “Now c’mon, sparkle princess. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Yes, sir,” I shot him a smile, snapping a mock salute before turning my attention to the crowd gathering ahead.

We pulled into the stadium parking lot, the familiar buzz of energy already thick in the air. It was that perfect mix of nerves, adrenaline, and anticipation. Trucks and trailers lined the lot, dust kicking up under tires and boots as everyone moved with a focused purpose.

Travis steered us toward the back gates, where the rest of the competition was already unloading their horses. The scent of hay, sweat, and leather hit me like home.

I could see a few familiar faces—riders I’d tangled with before, a couple who nodded in recognition, and one or two who couldn’t quite hide their surprise at seeing me step out of Travis’s truck.

“Looks like the boys didn’t expect you to show up,” Travis said, climbing out and coming around to help me unload. “Should’ve known better.”

I jumped down and stretched, letting the sun warm my shoulders. “Let ’em underestimate me. Makes the win that much sweeter.”

He chuckled. “There’s the fire.”

I moved to the trailer and opened the side panel. Bloom gave a soft, familiar snort, shifting in the stall like he already knew it was time to shine. I slipped him a treat from the bag I’d stashed earlier and scratched along his jaw.

“You ready to show off again, big guy?”

He bobbed his head, eager as ever.

Travis leaned against the trailer, arms crossed. “Let’s go turn some heads, Mrs. Champion.”

“Damn right,” I grinned, leading Bloom down the ramp. “Let’s remind ’em exactly who they’re up against.”

🐎

The stadium erupted in cheers as I steered Bloom through the last run of the cattle-cutting competition, the sparkle of my new saddle catching the light with every move. I might’ve been working hard, but I looked damn good doing it. The crowd knew it, too.

Bloom responded to every subtle shift in my weight, cutting smooth and clean like he’d been born for it. And maybe he had. We finished the run with precision, dust swirling up around us as I let out the breath I’d been holding and led him calmly out of the arena.

Back in the warm-up area, Travis tipped his hat at me, a smirk already tugging at his lips. “Bull riders are getting set up next,” he said. “You sticking around to watch the chaos, or heading off to have phone sex with your cowboy?”

“It’s still early,” I glanced at my watch, grinning. “I’ve got time to do both. Let me get Bloom settled, and I’ll come back to join you.”

I clicked my tongue and rode Bloom along the back stretch of the arena, trying to remember where the hell the temporary stalls were. The roar of the crowd dulled as we moved behind the gates, the hum of the competition still buzzing in my ears.

A sudden loud crack of a chute gate made me jump in the saddle—one of the bulls inside was already bucking hard, shaking the metal like it was made of paper. Nope. Definitely not the right direction.

Then I heard it—soft, innocent, and far too close to the danger zone.

“Momma?”

My head snapped toward the arena.

A small figure stood just past the open side gate—some idiot had left it unlatched—and a little boy, couldn’t have been more than six, had wandered right into the arena. Right into the path of the next bull release.

My heart dropped to my boots.

“Shit.”

Without thinking, I nudged Bloom hard into a gallop. We cut across the back like a shot, dirt flying up in our wake as I aimed straight for the kid. The crowd hadn’t noticed—hell, the gate crew hadn’t either.

I leaned low in the saddle as we closed the distance. The kid turned toward us, wide-eyed, just as I reached down and scooped him up, setting him in front of me like we’d practiced it a hundred times. His little arms wrapped around mine instinctively.

Bloom didn’t miss a beat. I kicked him into another hard turn, riding straight back out of the gate as the announcer called for the next bull to load in. We were seconds away from disaster.

I pulled Bloom to a stop just outside the chute. My heart thundered in my chest as the boy clung to me.

“You alright, little man?” I asked, checking him over with one hand still on the reins.

He nodded, tearful and stunned.

A flustered man ran up, breathless. “Oh my god—Dylan! I—I thought he was with my wife—I—thank you—”

I handed the boy down to him, giving him a pointed look. “You might wanna keep a closer eye next time. Bulls don’t give second chances.”

As I turned Bloom toward the stalls again, I could already hear the noise in the crowd shifting. The kind of murmur that meant word was spreading.

Travis met me near the stables, brows raised.

“You just gonna save the day and ride off like a badass?”

“Guess I am,” I said, dismounting with a shrug.

“You’re gonna be a damn legend by morning,” he said. “And we’ve still got finals tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope that part’s quieter,” I muttered, patting Bloom’s neck. But deep down, I knew better.

The rodeo never stayed quiet for long.

🐴

When I made it back to my hotel room, adrenaline still pulsed hot in my veins. I should’ve been exhausted, but my body was humming—wired from the near miss, from the ride, from everything. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with all that energy, but Ryan was still 500 miles away, tucked in our tent under the stars instead of here in this too-quiet room.

A long, hot shower didn’t help much. The ache lingered. Deeper. Lower.

I wrapped myself in a towel, steam curling around my skin, and padded barefoot to the dresser. That’s when my phone buzzed—like he knew. Like he could feel it too.

Ryan.

I smiled, my heart beating a little faster for a very different reason.

“Hey, you,” I answered softly, letting my voice drip warm and slow, “I was just thinking about you in the shower.”

“Oh really?” he drawled, amusement thick in his voice. I could hear the smirk. “What were you thinking?”

I let the silence stretch for a beat, just enough to tease. “That you should’ve been in there with me.”

“Damn,” he exhaled. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?”

“Not yet,” I said, curling up on the edge of the bed, still damp from the water and flushed from the heat. “But if you talk real pretty to me, I might change my mind.”

He chuckled low, that slow rumble that never failed to make my stomach flip.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” he murmured.

“Been ready since I left,” I whispered. “So go ahead, cowboy. Tell me what you’d be doin’ if you were here right now…”

There was a pause, the kind that buzzed like tension pulled taut between us. Then his voice dropped low, intimate.

“I’d start slow,” he said, like he was painting a picture just for me. “Push that towel off your shoulders, let it fall to the floor. I want you sittin’ on that bed, back against the headboard, legs wide open… just like I like you.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I did exactly what he said, my skin still warm from the shower but heating all over again at his words.

“Now slide your hand down, baby. Think about my fingers instead of yours. You remember what I did last time? The way I kissed down your stomach and stopped just long enough to drive you crazy?”

“Mmhmm,” I breathed, sinking deeper into the mattress, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.

“I’d take my time,” he went on, voice gravel and honey, “kissin’ up those thighs real slow, makin’ you beg for it. You’re so damn sweet when you beg. You’d wrap your fingers in my hair and try to pull me where you want me—”

“I would,” I gasped, “and you’d still take your time.”

“Damn right I would,” he growled. “I’d tease you with my tongue just enough to make you squirm, then hold your hips down and devour you, baby. Until you couldn’t say anything but my name.”

My hand moved lower, body arching as my breath caught.

“Ryan…” I whispered, needy and breathless.

“Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me hear you come undone.”

I whimpered his name again, needing more. “Tell me what you’re doing now.”

His breath hitched on the other end of the line. “Unbuckling my belt,” he said roughly. “You got me so hard it hurts. I’ve been thinkin’ about you since you left—how wet you get for me, how you sound when you fall apart.”

My hand didn’t stop, pace quickening with every word he fed me.

“You strokin’ yourself?” I asked, voice a low tease. “Wish I could wrap my lips around you right now, feel you throb on my tongue.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’d grip that pretty hair of yours and hold you there, baby. You take me so good every damn time.”

I moaned louder at the thought, breath ragged. “I’m close.”

“I know you are. I can hear it in your voice. You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes—God, yes,” I gasped. “Cum with me, Ryan.”

“Look at me,” he said. “Picture me above you, buried so deep, kissin’ you like I’ve missed you for a hundred years. That’s how I’ll take you next time.”

That image—his mouth on mine, our bodies tangled and desperate—rushed me right over the edge. My whole body arched, trembled, came apart.

I heard his breath catch, a broken moan slipping through the phone.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m cumin’, baby—”

His voice was raw, wrecked, and full of heat, and knowing I pushed him over that edge made the aftershocks that much sweeter.

There was a beat of silence, the kind where you could still hear the buzz in the air, like our bodies were still tangled together in some other place.

“You really were thinkin’ about me in the shower,” he murmured.

I laughed softly. “And now I’m thinkin’ about you bein’ here when I wake up in the morning.”

“Soon,” he promised, still catching his breath. “Soon as I can.”

I let the phone fall beside me on the bed, still catching my breath, skin flushed and sensitive. The hotel room was quiet, but my body was still humming—like he was still here, sprawled beside me, fingertips dragging lazy circles over my thigh.

I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow, letting out a soft laugh. “God, you’re dangerous, Ryan,” I whispered to no one.

The scent of soap still clung to my damp skin, the towel loose around my waist doing nothing to cool me down. I reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a long sip and letting it roll down my throat, thinking of the next time I’d feel his mouth on mine instead.

A soft ding lit up my phone.

RYAN: Tried to sleep. Can't stop thinking about the way you sounded saying my name. Gonna be a long night, baby.

I grinned, typing back quickly.

ME: You started it, cowboy. Better be ready to finish it in person.

A second later, another ding.

RYAN: Give me a few days. I’ll see what I can do. Can’t stay 500 miles away knowing how you feel without me.

I lay back, still smiling, body warm in more ways than one.

“Soon,” I murmured, clutching the phone to my chest. “Soon’s not soon enough.”

I shut my eyes and let the quiet fill the space between heartbeats, still cradling my phone like it might pulse with his warmth if I held it close enough. My skin tingled with phantom touches, the ache in my core still a slow burn. It would’ve been enough if it hadn’t left me wanting more.

God, I missed the weight of him. The way his body felt against mine, solid and sure, like he could hold the whole world still if I asked him to. I missed the hitch in his breath when I bit his lip, the way his hands knew every inch of me like we were drawn from the same map.

My head fell back against the pillow.

I pictured his arms sliding around my waist from behind as I brushed my teeth, that low, gravelly “Mornin’, baby” in my ear. His mouth on my shoulder, trailing heat down my spine until the toothbrush clattered to the sink and all I could think about was him. Us. Skin and breath and need.

Or how he’d pull me into his lap while the coffee brewed, acting like it was innocent until I felt the hard line of him beneath me, smirking against my neck like he knew exactly what he was doing.

I could almost smell him—leather, cedar, and the faintest trace of sweat. Not dirty. Just him. Familiar. Magnetic. Home.

I curled my fingers in the sheet and exhaled slowly, the longing crawling beneath my skin again.

He was too far away.

I picked up my phone and sent him a text.

ME: I love you.

My phone buzzed again.

Ryan: I love you too, baby. Get some sleep.

I smirked at my phone.

Me: You first.

He didn’t reply right away, and I could just picture it—him lying in that tent, probably grinning like an idiot, rubbing a hand over his face the way he always did when I said something that got to him. The image made my heart squeeze.

A few seconds later, the screen lit up again.

Ryan: You’re impossible. But fine. If I fall asleep first, you better be dreaming about me.

I bit my lip, smile lingering as I typed back.

Me: That was already the plan.

I set my phone down on the nightstand, still warm in the center of my chest. Curling up on the cool sheets, I let my fingers drift across the empty space beside me, pretending it was him there instead. Breathing deep, I let the ache of missing him mix with the comfort of knowing I was loved.

And somewhere between thoughts of him whispering "I love you" against my skin and the memory of his hands on my hips, sleep pulled me under like a tide.

Peaceful. Sweet. And full of him.

#yellowstone fanfiction #ryan yellowstone #ryan x oc yellowstone #yellowstone #yellowstone tv #yellowstone smut

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freshlyrage · 2 years ago

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 8 Javi's Chapter

whats playing: Self Control by Frank Ocean

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.2k

Javier had picked up on a few habits. Nail biting came first when he loaded into his truck when he left in 1980. He tried to keep from looking at you after you stained his shirt a deeper shade of blue with your tears. Biting his nails for the first time, right hand, his left hand was patting down the mark on his shirt. Lorraine in the back talking off his head as Don Chucho drove. Chucho always knew, he knew, so he rested his right hand on Javi’s shoulder as he drove into and out of town. Javier's hands flex as he imagines your back under his palm.

And the apartment in Houston never felt like home. Not for a second. Immediately he felt like a lost little kid. He gave himself time to inch back tears alone in the bathroom as his estranged girlfriend frolicked around the home. Lorraine was thrilled, she had genuinely thought that her cheating was behind them. Javier never got over that, never got over his time being wasted and in turn allowing her to waste more of it.

He spent June and July finishing his GED, living off the temporary money his dad had given them. Lorraine was the same, living off her savings and money from her mom until she started school in August, and until he was of age to work at the precinct.

One week in, Javier found a new habit with tobacco wrapped in white. Heading to cop bars with his older colleagues who would sneak the eighteen year old in. Lorraine was stressed with school by week one and Javi took her study time to ring your house yet you were never the person to pick up. “Oh, no she's out right now.” Javier’s brow would crease, wanting to ask, with who? Where at? He would still tell Frankie to relay messages of hope everything is good although he had other words he wanted to say but that was for your ears only.

Climbing out the hole that is their room, Lorraine, “How is everyone?” Her eyes tired from stress. By mid september Javier had started to sleep in the bed with Lorraine. They had shown good face for their friends before they moved but the second they were confined to this space, all of their grievances were revealed. Just in the first week, you are a lousy boyfriend, you never tell me how you really feel, Javier would dig back but his weren't low, he would just repeat over and over that she should have some sort of decency to break up with him before she jumped onto someone else. Even in september he was angry but an argument ended in them fucking so thats when sleeping in the same bed made its debut. Very healthy.

“I only spoke to Frankie, he’s working. So is Genie, still cleaning up that office space.” He left you out because your name was brought up in those arguments with accusations of leading the poor girl on, Lorraine's words.

Lorraine liked you, a lot, but she was very weary of you. Maybe she didn't have the right since she had cheated on Javier, and truthfully you hadn't crossed any lines when they were together. You had just suffered in silence, if anyone was crossing lines it was Javi but even that… you wouldn't call crossing. The lines were blurring and he nearly tripped over. The line disappeared when she cheated and Javi moaned into your soft mouth.

Lorraine walks behind Javier as he smokes out the window, her hand skating his shoulder in a hold he didn't want. Not when he lit his cigarette to ease his worries of you.

Her cheek resting on your shoulder, “And Andrea?”

Stay cool, any incorrect phrasing and Javier was done for, back on the couch.

He flares his nostrils out of sight of his blonde girl, “Nothing new, just started school. She wasn't home.”

“And you asked for her?” Her voice was slightly unsettled and threatening. Javi sighs knowing where this was going, flicking his cigarette. Lorraine hated the habit, being in school for health care and all, also hated kissing him with the taste. As much as he wanted to be angry with how Lorraine had become with you after they had gone away he sort of understood her. Although he had the looming knowledge of Lorraine kissing someone else while they were deep in- he still had a grasp on what you must come across as. Less of how you came across, more-so how he responded to the call of your name.

Javier shakes his head before looking down out the window making sure the coast was clear before dropping the stick off the ledge. “No, Frankie just told me”. The conversation ended there and Javier served her dinner.

He would call once a week to your house and still you just never seemed to be home. He would get small snippets into your life that fall. He heard you cut your beautiful long hair off. Javier’s eyes wide at the thought of how the short hair would look on you, he knew you could pull any look off. He felt it might've been weird to ask for a picture from your brother but Javier got lucky when he received your school picture in the mail from his dad.

You are missed at home. Here is Andrea’s school picture her mom gave me, and a picture of me and Frankie at Genie’s salon

See you at thanksgiving.

Love,

Your dad

Javier traced a hand over the image of his father and best friend in front of the pink lit sign. His slow breathing at the sight of you for the first time in forever. Biting the inside of his lip when he sees your bright eyed smile and short hair. Fuck, he wishes he was home with you, with his dad and with everyone.

Javi tucked the image in his wallet and headed to work. He thought about you that whole day.

After two weeks of internal struggle and eye contact avoidance with his girlfriend Javier came to a silent conclusion. He was a selfish person, it wasn’t a trait from his father, probably from his mom who selfishly abandoned him at too ripe of an age. An age he denies he remembers but he knows it all.

He knew kissing you, taking you to his home, asking to make him stay, he knew all of it was selfish. His self control just wasn't there. Not when you trusted and adored him so much. He flicks his cigarette outside the precinct next to his favorite co worker, Thomas. Javier decided to call less and although it wasn't you on the end of the line he knew him reaching out so often would just continue to hurt you for his own selfish gain.

You deserved to have a normal high school life, boyfriends and friends, not tied to the phone calls and subliminal flirts hoping you know he still feels deeply for you. He was envious of your ability to be so absent. You must have been finally getting a taste of the simplicity of a life without him. The time just isn't right for the two of you.

Javier makes his last call in December.

That day in December Javier had been drinking, alone as Lorraine stayed out with her classmates. His beer on his right and ashtray on his left. He almost chuckles at how mortified you would be at this image. He looked at himself a few times in the mirror and could see that boyish look leaving him more and more everyday, and it wasn't just his new killer mustache and stress lines growing. It was the way he was carrying himself, eighteen and assumed to be pushing thirty. Just great. A grown little man.

Donny Hathaway playing through his record player, he just keeps aging himself.

He rings the house, sort of figuring it’ll be Melissa or Frankie telling him he just missed you. But it's your squeak that he hears for the first time in seven months, his blood running cold and his hand hurrying to put out his cigarette like you were really there to scold him for it. He decides against it, keeping it burning between his fingers.

“Andrea, haven't heard your voice in awhile.” He breathes out in a pathetic hurried way. His own cheeks burning in embarrassment. You hum over the phone at his words and Javi looks to his lap hiding a smile from no one but himself.

“I’ve been busy, keep missing your call. I don’t want to bother ringing your house either.” Javier laughs at the irony, just last year you had been passing his house to see if he was there and now it was him trying to get a glimpse of your life from miles away. He thinks of how nervous you used to be when he smiled, how you would run a hand through your hair, your hair.

“Busy doing what? I saw the picture your mom sent by the way-Hair looks nice, looks pretty on you” He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose, feeling like anything he says to you crosses a line he doesn't want to cross anymore. It will never be fair for you. Selfish .

There's a small silence before your angelic voice quips again, “Thanks Javier Peña. And busy with school-and you? How's everything?” His name, so smooth from your lips. How did he get this bad for you, how did this happen. Javier feels sick for a second, say it again. He thinks but logic precedes him, be normal. He draws his cigarette again, fearing you’d yell at him over the phone (although he would kind of like that) for picking up on such a habit. He hums remembering the times you would put him in his place, “Hmm.”

“Started officially working, all the other cops speak spanish which is nice. There’s a cop bar just a few blocks from my house, we hang there.”

“and your girl?”

Selfish, nosy, like him. If you were in his shoes, he’d ask the same question. Javier would want to know every detail of your relationship just so he could find something to be upset about.

Javier scans the room devoid of Lorraine, they weren't good. How could they be?

“Hm. We’re good, she’s staying with a friend tonight at her dorm. Just in very different places right now-she’s in that college mood and i’m just work and sleep. She gets real mad at me-“ Javi stops himself then sighs, a shaking breath escaping as he realizes he's crossing another line. “M’sorry, not supposed to talk to you about these things.”

You sigh and he can imagine the crease of concern between your brows, he’d pass a thumb over it and smooth it over if he could. Another thought that shocks him.

“It’s okay, you planning on coming home anytime soon?”

“Uh-not sure. Would love to come down for your birthday but this law and order shit is real rigorous, thinking i’ll just send you some birthday money over there”

A classic bratty scoff sears through the static, “Don’t do that.”

Javi rolls his eyes, missing you so bad. “Told you to take care of yourself before I left-are you, querid-” Javier fills himself up with unnecessary panic as he nearly calls you the name he reserved just for you, the name he called you before- “Um-aren’t you… taking care of yourself? Avoiding Daniel and whatnot.”

“I am. Funny how you left and suddenly I have no more boy troubles.”

Javier is breathless and reminded of your face. Not the smiling one he saw almost every day but the one blotchy with red marks of tears when he so selfishly asked you that question, how your chin quivered at him. The cigarette dying in his hand, vinyl record needing to be turned, “I’m sorry, i’ll keep apologizing-”

“Javier-”

“No, I'll keep apologizing until you believe it, I'm sorry for putting you in that position. It was unfair." Javier's eyes fall to his lap, feeling like it was you sitting across from him with that red and whining face he left you with.

But the door opens and reality sets, and he says his goodbyes to you abruptly.

Cutting off your small bye and he decides it isn't fair. He was done being selfish.

Train. It doesn't matter of his body fucking hurts, train he let everyone go for this, he pushes himself.

He sleeps four hours a night and works the rest of the day, meals meticulously planned to keep him in check. Turns down a beer, only one habit at a time, he’ll smoke in the bar instead.

He calls, only his father, twice a week. He stops asking for you-not because he means to but because worrying about you would kill the routine-it would kill the numbing cycle. He keeps a space in bed for Lorraine and maybe they would fuck if he found the energy. When she wakes for class he’s already gone, at his desk, wondering if this whole DEA shit is worth it-if it’s promised.

If Javier finds time, if his estranged partner finds the will, they will talk about breaking up. Both thinking its the best but Javier’s concern for her well-being-considering that he provides for her-ends up overruling. You're right, but once I get my residency then… well then we can figure it out.

Javier wonders when will they assign him, fuck he had turned 21 three years ago and from the research and tabling he’s done, they all knew that Escobar was reigning hell in Colombia. When Javier asks with a hand on his hip, his superior says they are still weighing the risks, “We send you out there and you get killed, fuck, 23 year old southern boy American boy killed by narcos, the optics of it all”

Javier bites back the urge to tell his gringo boss that the story would be flipped into a discussion of his citizenship before he hit American soil for burial. But he doesn't, he just nods and almost responds before the boss speaks again, “But, we are working on arrangements to send you out there… safely.”

Technically, Javier and Lorraine had been separated for 3 years by 1986. They lived together, and promised not to sleep with others since raw sex was all they enjoyed. Javier still provided, not because Lorraine couldn't but because at that point he was making too much money for his own good. He sent money back home monthly, fighting the urge to maybe send you something, that would be weird, he hadn't even heard your voice since you were sixteen.

Fuck, you were what? 21 turning 22?

Javier knew general things about your life the past few years. He knew your mom got engaged, Melissa head over heels for a white guy named James. Javier knew that Frankie and Genie were engaged as well, living on their own with two successful salons. He heard that you got a boyfriend, that was news for Javier. News from Lorraine this time, over take out on a rare night where Javier laughed in the presence of her. His chest caving in a jealous fit that he thought he had gotten rid of long ago, something in his chest chipping away. Right then he decided that he couldn't go back if it meant seeing you with someone else.

And imagine his surprise when Lorraine says the boy's name was Xavier. So he knew about you and Xavier. He also knew you attended UMiami, smart girl. Knew you were farther from him now, that comforted him a bit. Knowing that you did well for yourself, that you were experiencing something outside the torment that is being home.

He remembered you joking that your mother hadn't ever wanted a daughter, it stayed with Javi, every time he looked at you he thought of you feeling like you weren't a good enough daughter.

Javier knew that you probably hated him. You could ring her but she probably won't pick up. It was Genie who said that to Javi on Christmas over the phone. Javier had your new number the three years you attended school in Miami but was ultimately too distracted and scared to call you.

In January of 1986, a few days before your birthday, Lorraine was given a residency match at a children's hospital 30 minutes north of their apartment. I found an apartment, I was just wondering if you could be a reference.

And that's how they broke up. Not an arm flailing argument like they had twice a month, the relationship died with grace, Javier hadn't seen that coming. Javier told her he was proud and that he would always be around to help her. She was to move out by May.

In February Javier goes home.

Well, he drives home for a day, has dinner with his father and drives back in the morning without running into anyone from his past. Javier’s eyes burned for almost a second when his eyes fell on a picture of you in a cap and gown on the wall next to his own police academy picture from 1981. Your smile is bright like always, with a soft curve of your lips with your long hair tucked behind your ear.

Ears large, you hated your ears, Javier thought they were cute. Was that a nose ring? Melissa must have fainted at the sight. Javier packed and exited at 8 am to head back to Houston. Fuck all of that. The image burned in his head anyway and he shut his radio off when Juan Gabriel blared through the speakers. Fuck— that.

Javier returns home after his day trip to Lorraine half packing the heading out to her friends house. Javier returns to work, training, tiring, stretching, writing, printing and thanking god he doesn't go on patrol anymore. God he never felt like less of a hero when his first work assignment was watching his patrol partner asking homeless folk to move their tents. He thinks of that moment and thanks god he was working on detailing and research for the DEA instead.

In April Javier walks into his office with a loud yell and confetti in his face. He flinches then grins at all of his colleagues dressed in cowboy hats-mocking him as his nickname around the building was Vaquero , the big city Texans found Javier's tight pants and belt buckles amusing. Unsure of the occasion or if he was the right person for this party his deskmate Felipe shakes his shoulders, “You're going to Colombia.”

Javier scoffs in disbelief as he's surrounded by music and hugs and congratulations with a few “you’re making history fucker.” Youngest guy they're sending out to Medellín. Javier learns that day that it was his last week in Houston before he gets a six month break before he starts his first day the embassy in October.

Polaroid pictures and cheek kisses from the desk women who Javier had unintentionally flirted with throughout the years, Javier’s work finally paid off.

His boss, Townes, poured him a drink and handed him a pile of mail. Javier was bad at collecting from his mailbox. Townes laughs at Javier's shocked expression, it sure did pile on. The entire office was in fits of conversations and dances. Javier made note of how close his deskmate Felipe is to the front receptionist Gina. He fucking knew it, her face bright red when Felipe would walk in and place a light tap on her desk. Javier narrowed his eyes at him while he obviously bit back a smile when they walked to their own desks. Felipe had a hand flat on her back.

Townes cleared his throat. “Opened this thinking it was mine, you should really head to that man. Seems like you're missed in Laredo.” He grips Javier's leather shoulder. Javier frowns and stares at the ripped envelope before digging his own fingers to fish out the card. Javier’s eyes bounced between letters, as they circled in his head quickly and with panic. He felt his superior smile from behind him, probably proud with his mini retirement suggestion. Javi traced his finger at the bump out lettering.

You are invited to Genie and Frankie’s Wedding 6-20-1986

Javier gave a thinned lipped smile to his boss, it was time for Javier to come home, he knew it for a while, but he was sure of it now.

Javier dusted his desk off with a shaky finger, his father at the doorway watching his every move. Rubbing his fingers together and flicking the collection away. The slightest frown on his lips, regret piling in his throat. He hadn’t gone home in so long. He could feel his fathers eyes burn on him as he watched the room he grew up in turn into a place of visitation, vacation, no longer his home.

His bed made, the childlike posters staring back at him and the teddy bear Lorraine had given him on valentine's day during their first year. Javier walks over to pick it up and inspect the thing. Feeling it’s fluffiness being a bit matted with age. Javier then looks at the picture of him and Lorraine on his night stand. Seeing his old smile and lighter brown hair. What an idiot he had been to shave his mustache that was itching to come in back then.

He knew he had changed a lot. Taller, slimmer, more lines when he smiled, hair curling at his neck and a mustache that wasn’t needed to prove he was a man but a thick one nonetheless-made him look unrecognizable.

His bear still in hand he hears his dad step slightly closer, “She’ll come around papa.” Javier’s eyes drop at the sentiment. Javier hadn’t really specified why they broke up-Javier never really told Chucho anything about Lorraine unless it was positive. He didn’t want to complain about her, he promised himself he wouldn’t be that sort of boyfriend or ex. Chucho had only ever been with Javier's mother but he respected her enough to relay that piece of advice to never speak down on your partner, even if they were an ex. You dated them for a reason, those reasons don't disappear when you split .

He hums an agreement although he knew there was no coming around, they had been over since 1981.

The dust can be seen in the sunlight from his window. Circling and never falling. He had been home just for one day 4 months prior, and he hadn’t stepped into his room. He hadn’t even left his childhood home, he just stayed in the living room with his dad, silently watching tv as if this was normal, him being around, like that was normal. As if his dad didn’t have to face sending his only child away to a new dangerous career venture. Javier also knew you weren’t home then, not like he’d dare to stop and say hello after writing you off for so many years. His stomach flips at the thought of seeing you now.

The heavy hurt he just knew he instilled in you, would you slap him when you run into each other? No, not Andrea. You would never put your hands on him. Would you be so surprised to see him that you’d forget his absence? Would you smile out of instinct or frown in realization?

He hadn’t seen a picture of you since you were a senior in high school, it’s been three years since then. Did you have an apartment in Florida or do you still dorm-would you even have to stay all summer or could you just stop by your brothers wedding and settle back into your home so far away. You had mirrored him but decided to make it a competition. Your thousand miles and his three hundred.

Somehow he was able to tuck away the thought of you, for those first two years in Houston the thought of you not being okay consumed him. Lorraine had come home with takeout laughing about some chisme she heard from her friend in Laredo about you getting caught piss drunk on top of some guy in a bathroom. That led to an argument, Javier asking Lorraine to quit gossiping, which then developed into a screaming match about you and Javier’s obsession. Javier just asked her to table any conversation involving you, that he rather not know. So he pushed the thought of you and everything that came with the wallet image he tossed away with a heavy heart.

Pinching the bridge of his nose when he would receive unsolicited updates about your life from your brother or Chucho. This would be far easier if people didn't adore you the way they did.

He remembers when Chucho called him that July after helping you pack up your room. If he had stayed, god he couldn’t bear it be you leaving. That was the first time he was glad he had left first. “Javi.” Chuchos voice brought him back to earth, back to Laredo.

Eyebrows shooting up Javier turns to face his dad, “Yeah?”

A look of sympathy crosses over the wrinkles on his face, “Today is Tito’s 13th birthday.” His dad frowns, knowing what he was about to ask. Javier was stuck for a bit, confused at the sudden statement. Then more floored by his little cousin turning 13 when he was only 7 the last time he had been home. “Everyone is expecting you.”

Javier feels a bubble growing in his chest at the thought of curious eyes and awkward hugs. “Who is everyone?” A hand falls to his hip, he knows. Everyone is everyone, there’s no damn party in this town without at least a hundred people walking out drunk regardless of the age of the birthday boy.

Chucho chuckles and tips his hat at him before leaving Javier in his old room.

Despite Javier’s protests and complaints of being tired he’s dressed in a flannel and patting his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Rehearsing in his head how to answer stupid and overbearing questions. Closing his eyes at the thought of getting a lot of Lorraine heavy questions. Thank god for the cigarettes in his pocket.

Javi was a passenger for the first time in a long time as his father drove them down to the venue and it’s like the second coming of Jesus when a 23 year old Javier walks through the doors.

Chatters in Spanish about how he’s grown, cheek pinches, kisses a bit too close to his mouth from girls from school that he doesn’t remember. Alejandra, according to her, Javier’s first girlfriend. “Tengo que decirle a la gente que mi primer novio fue un agente de la DEA.” She grins and kisses his cheek again, Javier’s nose scrunching.

After the small encounter Javier he sees the same little face on an elongated body. Little Tito, tall giving a sheepish teenage hug as another girl his age hangs behind him. Javier has a knowing smile remembering having a girl - friend at 13. “You’ve gotten so tall, who’s this?” Javier tuts his chin at the young girl whose face lights up in a blush, her eyes shifting everywhere but on Javier. Tito laughs in the only way a crushing pre-teen could.

A brace-face smile, “Oh, my friend Adriana.” The girl smiles at the introduction, hands behind her back shyly. Javier raises his brows at his little cousin, and gives an approving frown. Familiar name. A mirror of his own childhood with you. Javier leans down to whisper in the birthday boy's ear.

“Be nice to her, keep up the Peña reputation.” He advises, a firm squeeze on his bony shoulder before waving the two of them away to go back with the kids of their age. Standing straight Javier rubs his jaw and straightens up his going out top. Scanning the room for his dad who had parted the second he was swarmed. The same local mariachi band performing at the blue and red themed birthday party.

Instead his eyes fall on a woman with blonde hair tied in a neat bun, thick brown brows and an aging smile that shrinks at the sight of him. Mrs. Smithfield in all her southern-belle glory staring at Javier with conviction. Javier blinks a few times before attempting to wave before she turns her back to him and walking away. A nervous shaking breath is exhaled from Javier’s lips, he regrets coming home.

In the midst of Javier’s growing panic a slender hand grabs his shoulder and his knees weaken before he turns at the possibility of it being you. Instead, it’s your mother, your face on hers with more age and a stoic smile-you must’ve gotten your gleam from your father-he’d never know. Javier’s heart races at the sight, just your mom, after years. A few wrinkles included but still beautiful-still graceful and articulate. Hair moussed in curly scrunches, the smell filling the entire space, a long floral dress and a rosary flat against her chest. She grabs at Javier’s face and he looks away in embarrassment. “Javi! My goodness, didn’t know you could grow facial hair.” Her hand cupping his chin and manhandling his face like he was still fourteen. Her thumb brushing on the outer corners of his mustache. Javier chuckles and just allows her to examine him-“was so worried the academy would turn you useless and old, not even being a cop could break those Peña genes. Que chulo.” She jokes before slapping his shoulder, she loved thy neighbor, you know, unless they were cops. Javier nods a yeah, yeah.

His chest rising and falling as the possibility of you being here increases by a million. His eyes dart around the woman in front of him but fall back on Mrs.Diaz just as quick. “How's everything?”

“Oh please, Javier, how are you? The DEA? That I could at least respect you know, is the salary good-it better-sending you to a war zone, I pray for you papa.” She looks over his shoulder for a second, then tightens her grip on his bicep. “My god-Frankie is going to freak out when he realizes you're stronger than him, he’s here!” Javier lets out a chuckle fueled by nerves at the thought of seeing your brother. Your mom had a new glow, one quite foreign to Javier. He remembers Melissa as just a nice lady, nothing more, nothing this enthusiastic.

“Well, he’ll be even more angry when he sees that my mustache is better than his Ms. Diaz.” Javier jokes with a light squeeze to her arm. Her brows furrow and then settle in realization.

“Mrs.Warden now Peña” She corrects. Javier is struck with even more confusion, forgetting she was engaged. “I married Mr. Warden, you know the middle school teacher?” She gleams as Javier’s face spreads in a smile, ah, right, Ms. Diaz got laid. Javier hugs his best friend's mom while uttering congrats and prying information out of her to take some of the heat off of him. She quips, smiling with every detail before waving him off to the table where he spots a grown man who is apparently Frankie.

Frankie unknowingly dug into his food while Javier stalked the table to wrap his arm around his best friends neck. Frankies arms flail to grip Javier’s hold as Genie squeaks at the sight of Javi. “What the fuck-” Frankie groans through coughs as he slaps Javier’s hold. Javier loosens and kisses the cheek of Frankie who is still disoriented as his Fiancee giggles at his side. “Didn’t tell me your mom was taken, I was finally going to make my move.”

Frankies eyes finally widen and he turns to fully see Javier’s face before letting out a little girl shriek before wrapping his arms around him, a hold Javier didn't know he missed this much. “You sick fuck, what the fuck?” Frankie laughs, gripping the shoulders of Javi to examine all the changes that six years create before giving a disapproving frown. Javier’s eyes almost look shut as the wide grin on his face ceases to shrink, “Your mustache isn't as good as mine though.” He comments, Javier’s smile dropping jokingly before pulling him in again.

Genie sneaks in and Javier lifts her with his hold, kisses littering her cheek, he didn't expect himself to feel this affectionate but here he was. God, they were getting married. 8 years together, Javier wanted to ask how? How do you make that work, how did they do it so effortlessly. Maybe he should have asked for more advice, they had been doing something right, maybe Lorraine wouldn't be away although maybe the advice would lead him to stay with her.

By the grace of god, Genie and Frankie seemed to be too distracted by Javier’s new career venture to even utter her name. They knew, Javier also knew that they knew. He wouldn't come home for vacation without her you know unless… unless they were split up. Like always, Genie didn't hold back on the pig jokes. Discovering Frankie proposed on the beach when they went to Puerto Rico last May and how it's going to be a large backyard wedding-completely planned by Melissa and You. Javier couldn't help but let his brows shoot at the mention of your name, your name uttered out loud and not through static on a phone. Genie knowingly bites back a smile at his obvious attempt to micro manage his facial expressions as Frankie goes into detail about your skills in flower arrangements. How you cussed so loud when a rose thorn dug in your finger that your mama let the kitchen to hit you with a pillow as you dramatically cried at the cut, she just always been a crybaby, Frankie shook his head.

Javier wondered if your thumb felt better.

With Genie observing Javi she answers the question that has made its course around his head since they arrived, “Andrea is somewhere around her, surprised you didn't bump into her already. She’s hard to miss.” She chuckles before peering around the table to spot her. Javier holds himself together at the news. You were in this room, he knew he’d see you here so why was it that he feel the tension between his shoulder blades burn hot and glowy. Micro manage. Javier just nods. In his most lax way he asks what she meant by hard to miss.

Frankie chuckles loudly at the thought of you scurrying around the party. You really had developed that maternal look as you followed the small steps of the new walker, trying to figure out how a one year old could be so fast, your hands out as you chased the stinker. “She’s got the baby with her.”

And to hell with micro-managing because Javier gives himself the sickest case of whiplash at the statement.

No way. Dad would have told him. This is some sick prank.

Javier's eyes snap to the stroller next to the empty seat just left of Genie and Javier feels his entire soul sink. No. “What, what do you mean?” Javier leans into the table, already visibly stressed at the thought, his mounted arm moving to stroke the hair below his nose. Frankie and Genie both glanced at each other and then back at Javier before bursting in fits of laughter. Javier blinked quickly, his leather clad shoulders dropping with air filling his lungs. Those fuckers. Genie found it hilarious, her head falling back holding her stomach and heaving while Frankies laugh deepened at the sight of his fiancee in a fit of laughs. How cute was the sight, Javier was sick. Javier kept his unamused trained eye on the couple as heels approached the table.

“Marisol fell asleep, could you watch her?”

Your voice burns in Javier's brain and he lifts his bowed head up at your approaching body, and your eyes widen in sync with his. He stares up at you as you crowd the table in a white turtleneck and long skirt as a baby girl has her face smushed in silent snores against your chest, you hair brown but honeyed. The maternal sight makes Javier dizzy. His chest falls for a moment, and you don't smile at him, you're just as shocked. Frankie chuckles and removes the chubby baby from you. You looked like you but far more grown, filling out your shirt, your eyebrows thinner and your hair in that layered look you used to have to make you look older. A proper beautiful woman, Javier wants to jump to his feet and hug you like he did your brother but his mouth is dry as is yours. “Javier, Hi.” You whisper while making Javier's chest ache at your softness, your voice and the fact that you hadn't used his nickname. You sit, patting your black skirt down as you give confused looks to your brother and in law, why didn't you warn me face. Javier licks his lips and stupidly all he can think to do is hold out his hand for you to grab and shake.

Your lips quirk at the gesture and you touch him anyway, your hand dwarfed by his. Get it together Javier. “Hi Andrea, your brother was just trying to kill me, saying that baby was yours almost-”

“She is mine.” You stare at him blankly and Javier’s eyes grow in size, and his cheeks heating before a real smile grazes your face. Javier feels privileged to see you smile again, smile at him, to see how despite having a wide smile, your lips never fade when you gleam. A nose stud. “Mi hermanita.” You confirm, trying to keep your own cool. You could feel Javier's body heat, the smell of him, his knee so close to your own.

You wanted to push him, kiss him, hug him, cry and tell him how much you missed him or tell him what you’ve been through. But all you could do is offer him small talk while he stares at you with his puppy dog eyes wondering where’d all the time go?

You're given a minute to breathe as Frankie pulls Javier's stare away from you as he explains the timeline of your mother meeting James, getting eloped and having a baby. Javier is shaking his head in shock the entire time, you watch the back of his head. His hair long again, folding at the neck with sideburns chopped and perfect. And a mustache, you didn't expect that. You didn't expect… well… you were immediately smitten with what he had grown to look like. So manly and broad, and hairy and large. You almost forgot how deeply hurt you were by him. Not one call. Looking down at your white top as a small stain from the drool of your baby sister's mouth darkened. Wiping your hand across your breast.

Javier’s eyes snap discreetly at your breasts and its movement when you wipe.

Get it together Javier.

You didn't notice but ultimately gave up on the damn thing just to find Javier staring at you as Genie and Frankie crowd the stroller watching the infant stir in her sleep. You raise and eyebrow at the boy you still want, “What?” You narrow your eyes at him, and his lips stutter into a warm frown half hidden by the hair. You wanted to grab his face, feel his skin on your palm and hold.

“I feel like I deserve to be slapped by you.” He states plainly.

Your face is stone cold, as you contemplate the offer but despite all the animosity you felt, you'd never put your hands on him, only if he asked and allowed you to kiss it better. You shake your head, Javier is really here. Your eyes leave his and scan the busy party. Seeing your mom serve a young child food. Eyes falling back to Frankie and Genie giggling off about something, not paying any mind to Javier’s burning gaze. “I feel like we should go talk outside” you spit, still being able to hold out any self control as he nods.

Shoulder to shoulder with Javier again in the middle of a rare may breeze, looking up at the rare clear sky, it rained all week. Suddenly sunny and silent. The whole party stared at the two of you as you walked out of the building. Your mother nodding to you, James giggling to himself like the hard-ass he is. Feeling his shoulders rise and fall as you stood in silence.

"I'm sorry-"

“Shut up Javi, please.” Your hand comes up to your hair, running it through. Side by side you can't see his face but you do feel his body sink for a moment. It was the please that did it for him, he knew you, even after all these years. He knew a please out of you, a plea to him wasn't in your ranks. Javier did shut up though he wanted to hold your face and say i’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry. But you can't have any of that, you have control this time. You have control of your circumstances and you could push him, you could tell him he was a heartbreak you've been incapable of recovering from and you sure as hell could tell him that you hate him. You could also kiss him and leave him confused and aching to touch you and then you could leave. Go back to Miami, cut contact and live a life privately. Make him feel how you felt, how you’ve felt for six fucking years.

No.

You look to him and his eyes are peeled to the lot of cars in front of you, he feels you stare, burn, you burn him with the gaze. You thin your lips and hug your arms under your breasts, hugging your body. “ When do you leave?” You state more than ask.

His lips part and his head turns to you, looking into your eyes. That, he loved that. He loved how dark your eyes were, so dark that any light in your way makes them doe and animated, he hated to notice, but he fucking aches over the way your brows fold and bend with a line of stress when you look to him. “November.” He answered you, his eyes flitting to your lips, Javier couldn't help it, he found you so sexy back then when you forced answers out of him. God forbid you do it now, after so many years, after you've grown into that. Full, womanly, softer, prettier and meaner. Well, he had no right to assume you had gotten meaner but sixteen year old Andrea would have jumped into Javier's lap even if he had left you in that way. You had grown, meaner, if it was true he’d want it all. You quirk an approving frown before peeling away. Look back at me.

“Do you really want to leave this time, and don’t bullshit me I don’t deserve any of that.”

Tan Brava.

Javier smiles to himself but bites it away feeling that if you had caught him you’d click away in those little heels. He circles the question in his head and shrugs, “It’s work and the pay is handsome, close to a hundred.” He doesn't know why he admits that so quickly to you but you gasp, clutching at your stomach and you laugh. He needs a cig. The mere sight of you smiling so close to him is sending him over the edge.

“Jesus fucking-sorry, just my starting salary is a fraction I-just shocked I’m sorry.” You exhale and Javier cant take it he’s patting at his pocket to fish out his killing carton. Your eyes watching his deft hands, veiny, you trap that image in that corner of your sick head. The stick falling between his large hands and up to his lips, your eyes follow it all. Your nose scrunching in disgust when he flattens his lips and covers his light. He side-eyes you in confusion.

“What?” He mutters, stunted by the cigarette at the corner of his mouth. Your face continues to twist in disgust.

Shaking your head and crossing your arms, “You’re nasty Javier.” Continuing to shake your head as the sweet teen boy you had in your head dies when you watch the grown man in front of you, do something so adult , feed into an addiction. How cliche.

He laughs, “Never seen someone smoke a cigarette before?”

You deadpan as you fight the urge to reach to pull the stick from his lips and stomp it. “Put it out.”

“Why?”

You narrow your eyes, “Put. It. Out.”

Smoke leaves the corner of his mouth, “Why, tell me.”

“You should be taking care of yourself, it's bad for you.”

You admit a bit too much and he's grinning like a fool and removing the cigarette from his upturned lips. He flicks the bud onto the floor and stomps it. Now it's you biting a smile at him listening to your request. You whisper, “Thank you.”

That has Javier looking at you with a dimple deep eyes shut grin, “Anything, Andrea, for you.” He mocks and you narrow your eyes. You want to pounce him in every sense of the word. You want to get on him and yell at him for making this so hard, you want to grab the back of his stupid head lick into his mouth until he’s begging you to give him anything, you knew he’d beg you. You also wanted to li ke actually pounce him , with the intention to wound. But the second form spoke the loudest when he licks his lips at your annoyance.

“Light another.”

“What?”

“Light another so I can use you as an ashtray.”

You're joking but Javier feels his pants tighten at your demand, for a moment he was willing to let you burn him, he’d been a dick and deserved it. With his hands at his side as he looks at you he thinks about how easy it would be to just kiss you. With a sly scoff and a head shake Javier plays it off, “Jesus, you seem stressed, would you like one?” He edges, reaching for his pockets and you swat him on his arm. You had to hold out.

“Oh, so you smoke because you're stressed?”

“Yes.”

“About what?” The air shifts with your light hearted question, you hear the music from inside change to something loud and eclectic, you could hear people scurrying to dance. You usually would wish you were inside but now you were extremely interested in what your ex-best friend is so stressed about that he decides to fill his pores with the smell of smoke. He quirks a brow at you, like you just asked if birds fly, checking if you were serious about the question before whisper a fuck it.

“Well, first of all, I haven't seen anyone in years and when I showed up in here they were treating me like a fucking Kennedy, asking me all these overwhelming questions about Escobar. I haven't even been to Colombia yet-then…” He looks down to the pavement and you begin to feel like shit for even asking, the way he takes a moment to breath worries you and your body twitches to hold him but decides against it. He breaths. “I see Lorraine's mom and I’m sure you know-just never worked, Houston made it worse. Whatever, her mom looks at me and turns her back, then your mom.” He laughs, still looking away. Your brows tense as you watch him in a state you've never really seen, so much insecurity and shame. Houston wasn't going to be good for him, I knew it wasn't. It circled your head for years but for selfish reasons, he won't be good because I wont be good without him, but instead he just didn't do good for himself. Your hand grazes his wrist for a moment and he doesn't move from your caress but it's fleeting so he continues with a frown and no eye contact.

“When I saw you with the baby I nearly had a heart attack by the way, and then I felt guilty because you surely could have had a kid and I just would have never known, that's been killing me. Then you pull me out here, and I get deja vu, remember the last time we were at a parking lot?” He looks up to you with a stupid smirk and your mouth drops, just when I was feeling bad for him.

You lean your body weight into him and push as he laughs and fuck it, you're smiling too, ear to ear and it feels like 1980. Your heart is pounding against your rib cage at his statement before the kiss comment, he leans back into you. Have a kid, thats funny to you. “What makes you think-jesus.” You giggle and Javi is at ease again.

“Fucked if I know- last I heard you were in a committed relationship so fuck me for thinking that maybe you had a baby.” You cringe, you knew Xavier was more than likely coming to this function, you saw his sister earlier, what a beautiful disaster it would be to have Javi and Xavi in the same room again, god forbid Javier finds out the things he would say to you. Your ex would be gone by tomorrow.

“Mmm, past tense yeah. You're not the only one who gets to make bad relationship decisions Agente.” His eyes snap to yours again at your nickname and his lips quirk to a frown after taking in your bad relationship comment. It was easier said but he wished that for you, a good relationship, it would hurt less to come home and see you happy. But you being available is making it all unbearable and the two of you have only been with each other for fifteen minutes.

You watch Javier's expression soften, how he got prettier is beyond you. His smell had changed, still sweet yet earthy, with a hint of smoke-you would never admit to him that you liked the smell. Not after you threatened him for smoking. Your eyes flick away from him as you watch the car that had just pulled up go into park with a familiar back facing you. Right in Javier's blind spot, Jesus christ. “So what I’m gathering is that you aren’t in a relationship,-”

You interrupt him with a full arm squeeze as the leather crunches under your clawed hands. His temple creasing with his confused look he gives your pleading face. Why did this always happen, horrible timing with you two. Xavier’s walk is dominating as he quickens to approach the two of you, still nothing compared to Javier-he noticed too. God, you want to kill yourself thinking about the amount of times he didn't make you come…and he was a prick and you stayed, for so long.

Javier’s nostrils flare at the realization, remembering that you ended up choosing fucking Xavier, the loser who attempted to slut shame you the first time you all met. Well, Javier left you when you had shit taste but he held hope out for you, hoped that you’d realize how good you were. Xavier is in front of the two of you with a smile and in his camo military get up. “Long time no see Javier.” He holds out his hand for Javi to shake but Javier stares at it for a few seconds. Never liked him.

He shakes it anyway and Xavier exhales with a laugh. Dork. He then looks at you with a smile, his eyes scanning over your body.

You feel your breath die in your throat at the thought of how he spoke of your body just two years ago. You gained weight in high school, god forbid . It was around thirty pounds and it hadn't bothered you, you were still healthy-you body just had began turning more womanly. Throughout the entire relationship he found some way to slyly imply that your natural body was one to be ashamed of. And you lost the weight when you split up, not purposefully but because the dining hall food was putrid. So the gaze of your ex makes your stomach flip and Javier notices your change in body language. He crosses his arms and puffs his chest slightly but he doesn't need to; he already towers Xavier, “Yeah man, what is it that you do now?” he asks tauntingly.

Xavier smiles and points to his military cap, “I’m back on base in Cali in a few months…” His green eyes move to your rigid stance with a small smile that makes Javier’s blood boil. “Guess you've always liked men in uniform DeeDee,” While he gives you whiplash with the horrendous nickname he gave you back in the day, he wags his finger between you and Javier.

Javier’s eyes narrow at the boy and shakes his head, asshole , he mutters and Xavier doesn't catch on as his perverted eyes drag down your frame again, “I’ve got to get inside but I saw you leaving the gym where 7-11 used to be, you look great now, see you inside.” He grips your shoulder and is entering the party before Javier could react with attempting to get at him but he was gone.Your heart is full in worst ways, so full of disdain and hatred, feeling like an insecure seventeen year old again with his cunning ways to be an asshole towards you. Your hands fly to your face to pinch the bridge of your nose, too much all at once .

Javier’s hand is on the curve of your back in a familiar comforting hold, too much. Your eyes sting but they are shut, not today. “God, I fucking hate him so much-sorry” Javier feels your anxiety and anger burn off your skin and it makes him crazy. Just in the small interaction Javier understands what you meant about bad decisions . Javier had learned a lot in training about self control, he learned how to regulate his emotions well. It worked so well with Lorraine, the arguments stopped being explosive. But to hell with training, he didn't care the scandal it would ignite if the man of the night ran into the kids party and beat the military man bloody.

You look down at your own body and step away from Javier's hold, “um… please just tell my family I went home early.” Pull away, distance, more unsaid things, you had more to say you just cant do it not after seeing Xavier. You’d be sick by the time you get home.

Javier’s heart leaped at your distance and lack of eye contact. What happened to his smiling girl, querida. Feeling like a teen who had just been pushed away by a pretty girl, Javi stutters, “Yeah-I-I’ll tell them, just how do I”

You grip your purse and smile fakely, you’ll make sure to cry about him later. “I’ll call you tonight.” The wind pulls up and shifts your long skirt as you give Javier Peña a thin lipped smile. Javier tried not to break out in a face of relief, instead he nods you off and he watches until you safely get in your car and pull out of the lot.

Jesus christ you could drive now.

He felt like such an asshole.

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