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menagerofmischief · 2 days ago

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Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily.

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling.

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage.

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them.

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track.

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen.

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up.

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around.

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room.

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks.

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?”

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice.

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3.

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room.

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair.

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

��I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips.

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.”

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out.

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go.

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks.

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders.

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face.

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need.

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

guess who has to be studying for another exam but instead she needs to catch up on this fic? (this girl) little annotations below ⬇️

Or the next. You couldn’t. Every time you picked up one of the stupid boxes, your heart would drop to the pits of hell and your hands would start sweating. You’d shove it back in the drawer like it could disappear if you just ignored it hard enough.

manifest it girlypop

What if it was positive? Then what? The thought of seeing his name pop up on your phone after you blocked him, or worse, hearing her voice if she picked up...you’d rather die. He didn't deserve to know.

i eat up any scenes where she wants nothing to do with him and he barges into her life and finds out all the things he's been missing out? the angst of not being able to go backward in time no matter how much you regret it

You heard that voice in your head, the one that sounded like your mom, at least what you remembered from watching old videos.

i would burst out in tears

Your younger cousin, Topper the bitching backstabber, had been born and raised in Los Angeles before he moved to Figure 8 when he was five.

i was like why r we bringing up topper's bitch ass here and then i realized it to put in a frame of reference that she couldn't possibly know topper's birth bc he moved to kildare later. i just thought reader needed to put in a quick jab about topper 😭

You weren’t exactly the picture of health. What if you weren’t strong enough? What if something went wrong, and you ended up in a hospital bed, alone, because Rafe sure as fuck wouldn’t be there. It was just you.

i love the spiral of madness. i'm reading (and analyzing) it and i'm so so amazed by how ur structure descends. it flows so smoothly - from one topic to the next - all at a great pace and with a lot of internal turmoil. it builds up to me feeling everything reader feels.

It hit you just how ironic this was. You were sitting here, freaking out about being possibly pregnant, scrolling through nightmare stories about abortion and pregnancy complications, while Lily was talking about a fundraiser for children’s health. Kids. It felt like some twisted repulsive joke the universe was playing on you.

ugh, i love the parallels between her being (potentially) pregnant and the idea that she has to wrap her life around this foundation for children.

The fucking nerve. To your gala. Your blood boiled instantly, your fingers gripping the phone so tight you almost cracked the screen.

i love her i feel like she inches closer to insanity every day and i, too, feel the same

If Rafe wanted to play games, you’d ruin his life if you had to. He thought he could fuck you over, leave you with all this—leave you with nothing? No. You weren’t going to let him have that power.

like i said

You were shaking now, but it almost felt good. Even if it was just a stupid guest list. Let him find out when he got there and there was no table for him. No seat. No fucking room.

BABES 😭 YOU'RE CARRYING HIS CHILD oh this is too good, the idea that she wants to erase him from her life and leave no space for him (mind), but her body is accommodating spacefor his child, making her reserve a permanent space for him in her life

Every year. He’d sit with you while you struggled through every word, telling you it was okay to take your time, reminding you that you didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to. And when the gala came, he was always by your side, standing just off stage, waiting for you after the speech was done. You’d run into his arms, and he’d whisper that you 'did great baby', holding you until the room stopped spinning so much.

i fear i would crash out if i am currently stressed with the idea of being pregnant and remembering my ex bf and remembering my lost parents

If he thought you were weak, if he thought he could break you, if he thought you were the same girl who used to cling to him like he was the only thing keeping you together—he was wrong.You were going to do this without him.

my boss baby!!!

There was a sigh on the other end, the sound of him trying to not to lose his patentience, like he was the one in the right here. Typical Topper. Always wanting to smooth things over, play peacemaker between you and Rafe, like this was just another fight you’d get over.

topper, in the words of reader, a bitching BACKSTABBER

“Maybe what? That he could swoop in and save the day?” You let out a bitter laugh. “He’s not your golden boy, Top. He doesn’t fix anything. He ruins things.”

ugh i love ur dialogues sosososo much

You were having a meltdown, and he’d stepped in, like he always did when you went off the rails. That was the problem with him—he cared, even when you didn’t want him to. He was family, the only family you had left, and he was too loyal for his own good.

so fuck his parents then ig

You sat down, staring at the stick in your hand. This was insane. You were insane. Who the fuck took a pregnancy test ten minutes before they’re supposed to host a charity gala?

apparently me

There it was.

💌 — aaaaaaaaaa, i'm so glad i waited until after my exam to read this and truly experience the gift of ur writing. i love the juxtaposition and parallels in this scene! especially with her deleting rafe from the gala's list, erasing space from him in her life, but having his child grow inside of her. i love love how she has to have a gala for children—and crippling over the current dilemma of whether she has a child herself. and i love that she's very isolated in a sense, because it amplifies how this child can truly make or break her. topper was so enjoyable—especially their conversation. u always write dialogues so smoothly!! honestly, i thought this scene would end with rafe showing up unannounced at the gala, haha but ig we'll see in next chapter

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - TWO

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of possible pregnancy, of abortion, of pregnancy risks & death. self-loathing. chapter one

You lied.

You didn’t take the tests the next day.

Once you knew, you knew.

There was no more pretending as if nothing happened.

No more pretending like you didn't care that Rafe moved on like he didn’t just dump you, with no real closure and ran to the next girl he found.

Fuck, why did he have to look so happy that night? He got to be carefree, living his perfect little life with her, and you were there, sitting on the bathroom floor, too scared to even pee on a stick.

He didn't deserve anything from you anymore.

You started googling abortion clinics before you even touched the tests. You could afford it. That wasn’t even the issue.

You had more money than you knew what to do with. Your inheritance was just sitting there. You could book a flight tomorrow, pay for whatever procedure, whatever it took—fly out of state, out of the country, if you had to.

But that wasn’t the point. It has never been about the money. It was the overwhelming shame. The fear. The realization that Rafe might have left you, but he was still there, stuck in your head, in your body, in your fucking life. Even when he wasn’t.

He didn’t have to worry about any of this. He was most likely out on the boat, not even thinking about you. Not thinking about what he did to you.

And you— you were left with this. Sitting on a bathroom floor for hours a day, trying to figure out how you were supposed to make a decision that changed everything.

You started looking up clinics again, scrolling through the options, but your mind was barely even there. It was legal in North Carolina for now, but you read something about the 12-week ban they passed in June, and suddenly you were spiraling one more time, wondering how much time you even had.

Could you wait? Could you put it off like you’d been putting off the tests, like if you waited long enough, maybe the problem would just... disappear? Shit, wouldn’t that be easier?

You heard that voice in your head, the one that sounded like your mom, at least what you remembered from watching old videos.

It was depressing how life didn’t let you hold tightly to your memories sometimes. She always reminded you of the kind of person you were supposed to be. The type of girl who had her shit together. The type of girl who didn’t get herself into situations like this, in the first place.

But instead, you were the girl who lost everything—the life you were supposed to have—and somehow, you’d still found a way to screw up what was left.

You kept scrolling like you couldn’t stop.

One page led to another, and soon you weren’t just looking up clinics—you were looking up everything.

What happened during the procedure, how long it took, the side effects, the complications. You read horror stories about infections, about women who thought it was over and then bled for weeks, about people who changed their minds too late.

You even looked up what could happen if you didn’t get an abortion—what pregnancy could do to your body. And that was a whole other rabbit hole you didn’t need to go down. Your body changing, your hormones going insane. You thought about your boobs getting sore, your stomach stretching, the possibility of throwing up every morning, and it felt like your body was already betraying you. And then you read the serious stuff—gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, all these words you didn’t even know existed before that night. There was a minefield of things that could go wrong, things that would go wrong.

Complications. Risks. Dangers.

You read about women who almost died in labor. About miscarriages and stillbirths and the trauma of carrying a baby for months, only to lose it. You never even thought about that, how pregnancy wasn’t just this smooth, magical process people make it out to be. It was brutal. But you’d been the little sister, you never saw your mother go through it, or anyone for that matter.

Your younger cousin, Topper the bitching backstabber, had been born and raised in Los Angeles before he moved to Figure 8 when he was five.

You were terrified—not just of being pregnant, but of what it meant to stay pregnant. Would your body even handle it? You’d always lived off coffee and takeout half the time. An unreasonable amout of parties. Too many drinks some nights.

For a second there, you thought you might pass out.

You’d thrown your phone across the room, it hit the wall with a thud, but it didn’t help. The anxiety was still there, vibrating under your skin, making you want to scream. You glanced at the bathroom drawer again, where the pregnancy tests were hidden like some cursed thing.

Maybe you should’ve just taken one.

Rip off the bandaid.

The stupid phone rang, like was having fun pissing you off, vibrating on the floor where you’d thrown it. You stared at it for a second, debating if you should even pick it up. You didn’t feel like dealing with anyone, especially not whoever was about to ask something from you.

But it kept ringing, and of course, it was a number you recognized—Lily, one of the coordinators from your dad’s foundation. Shit. You forgot about the gala. Again. The one that was happening in two freaking days, the one you haven’t even thought about preparing for.

You swiped to answer, “Yeah?”

“Hey, I didn’t want to bother you, but we need to go over the final details for the gala,” She greeted you, sounding way too perky for how you were feeling. “I really need your input on the seating arrangements, and the auction items, and—”

You blinked back into the conversation, realizing she still talking, and you hadn’t said a word. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy. Can you just handle it?” you muttered, feeling guilty but not enough to actually deal with any of it.

“I’ve already taken care of most things,” she said carefully, “but we really need your approval on the final guest list and the speech. You’re the face of the foundation, after all.”

The face of the foundation. The legacy your dad left you. It was supposed to be this huge responsibility. And it was. You’d always taken it seriously. The one thing in your life you never ruined. But this year, you hadn’t written the speech yet. Jesus, you forgot it was even happening. And the guest list? No clue.

You rubbed your forehead, “I’ll look at it later. Just send it over.”

Lily hesitated again, probably sensing that something was off, you'd always been a control freak. “Okay, I’ll email it to you. Just let me know by tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You hung up before she could add anything else, staring at the ceiling. One more thing. One more responsibility piled on top of everything else. You were drowning in all these expectations—being the good daughter to dead parents, the responsible one, the perfect kook girl who was supposed to have everything. You were supposed to be the girl who had the trust fund, the perfect life, the foundation that helped kids in need.

You earned to be her.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with an email notification. You rolled your eyes, already knowing it was from Lily. She’d sent over the guest list, and you groaned, thinking you’d skim it, give it a half-assed glance, and send it back. But as you scrolled down the names, you stopped.

Rafe Cameron.

Of course, he was going to be there. Why wouldn’t he? His family had been involved in your dad’s foundation for years. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

The fucking nerve. To your gala. Your blood boiled instantly, your fingers gripping the phone so tight you almost cracked the screen.

Fuck him.

If he thought he could just show up and rub his new life in your face, he had another thing coming. Without thinking twice, you deleted his name, erasing him like he didn’t even exist. And then, without checking another name, you sent the list back to Lily.

You didn’t give a shit if it was petty. You didn’t care if it wasn’t professional.

Not over this. Not over you.

You were shaking now, but it almost felt good. Even if it was just a stupid guest list. Let him find out when he got there and there was no table for him. No seat. No fucking room.

You still sat there staring at the screen with that stupid blinking cursor. The email from Lily sat open in front of you, and somewhere buried in the list of attachments was the speech. Blank.

Your speech—the one you were supposed to read at the gala in two days. The one you hadn’t even started writing.

This was always the hardest part. Writing it. Saying it. You used to cry every time. Standing in front of all those people, talking about your dad, your family, how the foundation was this beautiful way of keeping their memory alive. It was never just a speech—it was like ripping your heart out of your chest and letting everyone see it, year after year. It never got easier.

But Rafe, used to be there with you.

You could still hear his voice in your head sometimes, 'you’re stronger than you think'.

That’s what he always said, even when you didn’t believe it. He’d hold you, kiss your forehead, and make you feel like it was true, like you really could get through it. He was always so sure of you. But this year? He wasn’t going to be there. He’d stop believing the lies he fed you. You were angry. You were seething. You were utterly alone.

You’d been avoiding this moment—writing.

This time around, it wasn’t just about the speech. It was about the fact that when you walked out of that stage, you wouldn’t have him waiting for you.

You’d step down into nothingness, with no one to catch you.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, but they wouldn’t move. What were you even supposed to say this year? How were you supposed to stand up in front of all those people and talk about love and family and legacy when yours was shattered?

You hated looking at yourself in the mirror, feeling like you’d lost every single piece of who you used to be.

Fuck the speech. Fuck the gala. Fuck Rafe Cameron and his stupid lies, his stupid smile, his stupid promises that he never kept.

If he thought you were weak, if he thought he could break you, if he thought you were the same girl who used to cling to him like he was the only thing keeping you together—he was wrong.

You were going to do this without him.

You were going to stand up there and give that speech, no matter how much it hurt. And if it killed you, so be it. You’d still do it.

Because unlike him, you didn’t just walk away from the things that mattered. Even if it tore you apart. Even if it was killing you to keep pretending like you were fine. You weren’t fine. But you’d fake it. You’d fake it until the whole world believed it.

You’d barely hit send on the email when your phone rang again, and this time it wasn’t Lily.

It was Topper. You hadn’t talked to him since that night—the night. The party where you’d found out, where you’d seen Rafe and Sofia together for the first time. Where you realized that everyone knew.

How he’d called Rafe over, like you needed him to fix it, like he was still yours to rely on.

“What?”

“Hey…” Topper’s voice was cautious, “I, uh, I wanted to call and apologize for the other night.”

You snorted, leaning your head back against the wall. “Yeah? For what part? For calling Rafe like his little bitch or for getting in front of my car when I was trying to leave?”

“I didn’t mean to fuck things up. I was just trying to stop you from doing something stupid.”

“Like what?” you snapped. “Leaving the party? Getting out of there before I had to watch him with her for one more second? Yeah, Top, real dumb of me.”

“You almost ran me over,” Topper shot back, his voice rising just a little, like he was offended you hadn’t mentioned that part. “Kinda felt like maybe you weren’t thinking straight.”

“You jumped in front of the car you fucking idiot. What the hell did you expect me to do? Slam on the brakes and listen to whatever bullshit you and Rafe had to say? Because trust me, ’m all out of patience for either of you.”

He never really got it.

“Look,” Your cousin started, calmer this time, “I didn’t mean to call him. I just thought—”

“You always think calling him will fix things,” you cut in, “Like he’s the answer to every problem I have. He’s not. Not anymore.”

“I get that,” He added quickly, like he was afraid you’d hang up. “But I didn’t know what else to do! You were upset, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what? That he could swoop in and save the day?” You let out a bitter laugh. “He’s not your golden boy, Top. He doesn’t fix anything. He ruins things.”

Topper went quiet for a second, probably trying to figure out how to respond without setting you off on an angry rant again. “I get it,” he said finally, “You’re pissed at him. You have every right to be. But I didn’t call him to hurt you, okay? I was worried about you.”

You hated how genuine he sounded, hated that he meant well. He was a nuisance half of the time, sure, but he wasn’t malicious. He never was. He just had terrible judgment.

“Next time, don’t,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “I don’t need you playing little brother and calling him when things go wrong."

“I wasn’t trying to clean anything up,” Topper explained, a little defensive now. “I just didn’t want you driving like that. You were upset.”

You rolled your eyes. “Upset doesn’t mean I need you or Rafe deciding what’s best for me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’re not,” he agreed, “But you weren’t exactly in a great headspace, so yeah, I stopped you. I wasn’t gonna let you leave like that and end up in a ditch somewhere.”

It hurt like a bitch, because deep down, you knew Topper had a point.

“You could’ve told me,” you confessed what had been upsetting you, your voice losing some of its initial attitude. “About them. Instead of letting me walk into that party blind.”

Topper sighed again, “I should’ve,” he admitted. “I didn’t want you to find out like that. But it wasn’t my place to say anything. And I didn’t want to make things worse.”

Your hand instinctively moved to cup your stomach. You didn’t even realize you were doing it at first, but the second your fingers touched your shirt, the earlier panic welled up inside you again. If he only knew how bad things were. How bad they could get. You yanked your hand away like you’d been burned, heart hammering against your ribs most painfully. There was no way you could even begin to explain what was going on inside your head—or your body.

Not to Topper. Not to anyone. If he knew, he’d freak and you didn’t need that right now.

You clenched your jaw, pushing yourself to focus on the conversation, on Topper still yammering on about apologies and guilt You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips.

“Are you even listening?”

“Unfortunately,” You sounded apathetic even to yourself, fingers tapping against the phone, agitated. “Look, Top, I don’t have time for this right now. I’m busy.”

He sighed. “I know you’re pissed, okay? I get it. But the gala’s in, like, two days. You... you still going, right?”

“Of course I’m going,” you scowled, barely able to hide the bitterness in your voice. “I have to. It’s not like I can just dip out and pretend it’s not happening.”

Unlike some people, you thought, but you bit your tongue.

“Good, because I’ll be there too. And I—”

“Oh, joy,” you interrupted, “Another chance for you to babysit me and make sure I don’t make a scene? Can’t wait.”

“Jesus, I’m just trying to help!” Topper groaned. “I didn’t want to make things worse the other night. I—”

“Yeah. Whatever, I’ll see you at the gala.”

You hung up. You didn’t have the patience to deal with him right now.

The day of the gala came faster than you thought it would.

It was like you blinked, and suddenly, you were standing in the middle of the venue, walking through final checks with Lily, nodding along as she rattled off details you barely absorbed.

The room was all glitz and glamour, with chandeliers dripping from the ceiling, and everything draped in the foundation’s signature gold and white.

Crisp tablecloths. Flowers in perfect, elegant arrangements. Waiters in black-tie uniforms were circulating, making sure everything looked flawless. Flawless.

That word made you want to gag.

You moved through the space like a ghost, smiling at the right moments, giving half-hearted approvals when needed. You didn’t care. People were running around, asking for your opinion on this or that. You’d stayed at the venue longer than planned, making sure everything was in order, but your mind was stuck in that floating-place. You wanted to burn the whole thing down, if you were being honest.

You should’ve called your doctor. Days ago. Hell, maybe weeks ago.

Making smart choices wasn’t your thing lately, was it?

When you finally slipped into the room where they’d set up your glam team, you just wanted to sleep. The room itself was a suite off to the side of the venue, a private space meant to make you feel like royalty.

A massive mirror ran across one wall, surrounded by soft, glowing lights. A table was set up with everything—hair tools, makeup brushes, palettes, serums. Bottles of champagne sat chilled in the corner, the condensation dripping down the glass, untouched. It was the kind of place you were supposed to feel special in.

Normally you did. But this year you were numb.

The stylist worked quietly on your hair, soft curls falling into place as she tugged and pinned each section with meticulous care. The makeup artist was dabbing foundation onto your skin, blending and contouring until you didn’t even recognize yourself in the mirror. The dress hung behind you, a shimmering white gown, custom-designed by Versace for the occasion.

You looked like you were stepping into one of those perfect, glamorous lives. But on the inside, you felt like you were going to lose it at any second. You nodded along, giving tight-lipped smiles when they complimented you, and then they finally left.

The room was dead silent now, just you and your reflection. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself, the perfect curls, the glowy skin, the gown waiting behind you. It all felt wrong. It felt fake. You didn’t bear a resemblance to yourself.

You looked like the version of you that the world expected—the untouchable girl. A doll.

Your rifled through your bag for your phone, but instead, your fingers brushed something else. Cold, hard.

You hadn’t even realized it was in there.

One of the pregnancy tests. You must’ve thrown it in without thinking earlier that morning when you were rushing out the door. You hadn’t even noticed it until now.

What the fuck were you doing?

You had a gala to host in less than an hour. People were going to be looking at you, waiting for you to give the speech, expecting you to hold everything together like always. And there you were, standing in a private dressing room, about to do something so monumentally stupid. Maybe it was the pressure of tonight, or maybe it was the anger you’d been shoving down for weeks, but suddenly, you didn’t care.

You were going to do it.

Without even thinking, you stormed into the bathroom. You were so fucking tired of avoiding this. Tired of pretending like everything was fine, like you were fine.

What the hell was fine about any of this? You tore open the box, hands trembling as you pulled out the test. The room was so quiet, you could hear every little sound—your breath still uneven, the rustle of your dress against the tiles, the click of the test cap as you flicked it off.

You sat down, staring at the stick in your hand. This was insane. You were insane. Who the fuck took a pregnancy test ten minutes before they’re supposed to host a charity gala?

You couldn’t get a proper breath out as you waited, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might rip your chest open. You leaned against the sink, gripping the edge. Your stomach churned, the nausea rising again, and you had to close your eyes to stop the floor from spinning.

What if it was positive? What if it wasn’t?

You stared at the test, willing the result to appear, but it didn’t. Not yet. The little window stayed blank, as if taunting you, making you feel like you were losing your mind. You knew you had to wait longer. You weren’t stupid. You’d read those instructions a million times by now, but you hated waiting.

Hated not knowing.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the stupid little piece of plastic. Just one line or two. That was all it came down to. One fucking line or two, and your entire life would either fall apart or what? Be fine?

You glanced at the mirror, catching another glimpse of yourself, and it almost startled you—your eyes were wild. Desperate. They were the eyes of someone who was just about ready to do anything to get this over with.

You tried to picture telling him again, but the idea alone made you sick. You thought of Sofia, of her perfect smile next to his, and bile rose in your throat. Your hands never stopped shaking. You wanted to run. You wanted to throw that thing in the garbage can and never stare at it again.

Your thoughts spun in circles, going nowhere, just making everything worse. The clock on your phone ticked louder and louder, and you knew—somewhere out there, everyone was getting ready. Guests were arriving. The gala would start soon, and they’d all be waiting for you. Watching you. Expecting you to be the poised, perfect version of yourself you’d spent your whole life pretending to be.

And you were in here, trying not to lose your fucking mind.

You peeked back at it. Still nothing.

No line. No answer.

It felt like you were suspended in time. You closed your eyes, gripping the sink harder, praying for it to end—something to happen, anything.

Then finally, you felt it in your chest—a heavy, sinking feeling, like the moment before a fall.

You opened your eyes.

There it was.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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mead-iocre · 2 days ago

Note

brat!r is my absolute fav but imagine brat!r sitting with Eli at one of the games and she’s an absolute angel everyone trying to figure out why they don’t hear the usual commotion in the stands from brat!r and it’s bc she’s having such a good time with alexia’s mom 🤭

brat!reader would only ever be "normal" when she's around alexia's mom, eli. She's calmer, almost shy, and less likely to start chants for the opposition.

alexia was nervous at first to introduce brat!reader to her mother, but her girl was important to her, and it was time her family knew her too. alexia made brat!reader swear she would behave in front of her mom, and brat!reader agreed. their first dinner together went very well, and alexia couldn't help but spend the entire night with the biggest smile one her face watching her family fall completely in love with her girl.

their first match together was one of alexia's worst games simply because she was far too distracted and kept sneaking glances at the stands. this was the first time brat!reader and eli were sitting together at a game, and a competitive, high-tension football match was a lot different than a chill dinner at home, so alexia was understandably nervous.

however, it seemed like she did not have any reason to worry. brat!reader was an absolute darling the entire game. sure, she was still her loud, competitive self at times, but this time slightly toned down. instead of starting chants for the opposition, brat!reader was actually joining in on the barca chants.

and even when brat!reader was being loud and shouting "alexia VAMOS, you're running so slow-- dios mio". eli did not mind it. in fact, she knew this was the type of woman alexia needed. the kind of woman who would can hold her own, and match her daughter's stubborness.

at one particular play where alexia was clearly fouled. brat!reader couldn't help but stand up from her seat and yell "ref silbato-- SILBATO. jobar-- oh"

eli just laughed and stood up from her seat, bellowing "eso es una falta! puta madre!"

everyone at the match was a little unsettled when the 90 minutes were up and there was no commotion at the stands or chants towards the opposition. when they can't help but turn towards the family and friends stands to get a peak of their favourite wag, they're pleasantly surprised to see her yapping with alexia's mom, ass in her seat, the picture of a perfect angel.

#alexia putellas x reader #fic talk #💌#brat!reader #brat!reader stories

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spidybaby · 16 hours ago

Text

Seat 332

Summary: The seat he always reserved for you, it's now hers.

Warnings: cursing.

You hug Aurora as the two of you jump happy.

"I'm so happy." Aurora says, tearing up a little bit. "I'm sorry, I need a moment." She says, walking out of the room.

You turn to face Gavi. He has the biggest smile anyone could ever have. He opens his arms, walking over to you.

You carefully hug him, head between his neck and shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, Pablito." You say.

He tightens the hug, kissing your forehead. "I'm happy too." He says. "I can't wait to be on the field again."

Gavi got the green light to start training on the training camp, not like the others, but finally, he's able to run, to juggle the ball, to be out.

"And maybe I'll be able to play against Sevilla." He smiles, a smile that might hurt later. "I can't wait."

You separate from the hug, grabbing his cheeks. "I'm going to be there for you, I'll be the loudest on the stadium when I cheer your name." You smile at him.

He moves his hand and places it on the back of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss. You don't waste one second and return the action.

"I kinda like having my own cheerleader." He smirks. Giving you another peck.

You laugh at his tone, grabbing his hand, walking with him to the living room. His parents and Aurora have smiles and tears.

Finally, after so long and after everything Gavi went through, he was able to go back to the field and do what he loved the most, play.

"We are so happy, mijo." Belen says, hugging him. "You are going back to play."

His father joins the hug. They were telling him how happy they were about his return, even when it was just to training.

It was a big step for everybody. After the times when Pablo didn't want to see anyone and used to cry himself out of the frustration of being in bed while his friends played. Horribly but played. (Don't fight me on this, last season was bad)

His family was grateful for your support to Pablo. You have known him since school, and your support was very important to him and to them.

You and pablo were friends, even when you looked like the typical couple. You never officially become anything other than his friend, and tell people that you were fine like that.

"Let's go out to eat." Pablo Sr. says. "We need to celebrate this big moment."

Pablo pulls you to the front door, intertwining your hands. Pablo asked you what you are eating. Naming you different things off the menu.

"I want a piece of cake." He says, opening the door for you. "Want to share?" He asks, passing his arm around your shoulders.

You nod to him, giving him a kiss. You were careful with the picture and places. You know that since you two aren't labeled, you don't want to deal with the fans.

You were fine letting people think you were Aurora's friend. You were thankful to have some pictures with them from when you were kids.

Fans have seen that and thought nothing of it. So they didn't really care when you were with Aurora at the games.

"We are going to Sevilla this weekend." Pablo says. "Want to join us?"

You shake your head no. "I have a lot of work to do." You explain.

He rests his head on your shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." He says, sighing.

Gavi's parents ask you about college. They were happy that it was going well for you. You wanted to be a physiotherapist.

They wanted you to succeed. They have known you since you were a child, and when you went out of your way to help Pablo during his recovery. They got closer to you and got to know you better.

You became closer to him because you two met up at a common friend birthday party. You told him that you moved to Barcelona to study.

He contacted you over Instagram. You two began talking, and then he invited you to a game. You, as a cule, said yes immediately.

Since then, you got closer and started a small fling. You never cared that it was an in and out situation. He was an old friend and he liked you.

Pablo and you excuse yourselves. He has training in the morning, and you were going to help him with his therapy routine.

"Do you want me to help you with your exercise?" You ask, checking on him as he does what his physio instructed him.

He shakes his head no, trying to act tough and uninterested. "I'm almost done." He says.

You enjoy the show he's pulling. His face went from normal to a red one as he refused to ask for help. All that only to look cool for you.

You can't help but laugh at how his arms are shaking thanks to the effort he is putting into the exercise.

"Pablo, let me help you." You say, getting up and walking up to him. Grabbing the weight he's using. "Let's do it together." You say, kissing his temple.

You work out with him. Doing it slowly and helping him take the proper rest in between sets.

"You see?" You ask him. Leaving the weight on the floor. "A little help won't hurt you."

He chuckles, giving you a kiss. "Want to shower with me?" He asks, hiding his sweaty face on your neck.

You nod, grabbing his hand and walking upstairs with him.

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"Have you noticed that we are always placed in the same seats?" Aurora asks, walking with you around the now empty stadium.

"We do?" You ask, confused. "How do you know that?"

"I was checking the seating on the last few games. Don't ask me why cause I just did it out of boredom."

You turn, looking at where the seats are located. "Never noticed that. We can ask Pablo why is that."

"Ask me what?" Pablo says. He was behind you.

He grabs your arm, pulling you against his chest. You laugh at his roughness. "Pablo!" You say in between giggles.

"Pablo, careful." Aurora warns him.

Pablo shush Aurora, giving you a kiss. You feel him wrapping his arms around you. "What do you wanna ask me, guapa?" He whispers to you before returning to kissing you.

You separate. "I don't even remember anymore." You say, making him chuckle. "Ready to go?" You ask, making him nod.

You were taking them to the airport after the game. Even when he isn't ready to play, he wants you at the games.

He says that it's for you and his family to get used to him playing again. You love it when he includes you into his plans.

"Let's go, lovebirds." Aurora says, walking away from you. "We don't want to hit traffic."

You walk to the car, thanks to the wait in the stadium, there was not much traffic. You needed to pick something at Gavi's house before the airport.

"I'll be quick." Aurora says, running to the house.

Gavi was singing some song he had on the playlist of his recovery. He was focused on his phone.

You then remember what Aurora told you about the seats. You want to ask him, so you turn the music down.

"I just remembered what I wanted to ask you." You tell him, bomping his nose with your finger.

"A ver, dime."

"Aurora pointed out that we always sit in the same seats." You explain. "Why is that?" You ask.

He smiles, getting closer to you and giving you a small kiss. "I memorized where the seat was." He explains. His fingers combing your hair. "That way, when I scored, I know where to look. I know that you'll be there."

You can't help the big smile that you have. He was looking for you after every goal. After every asist, he knows where to look to find you.

"Seat 332" He says. "That's the one I always ask for."

You were about to say something, but Aurora joined the two of you in the car. She apologizes for the inconvenience of having to stop at Pablo's house for her makeup bag.

"Let's go!" She says happy. "I can't wait to be home."

You smile, happy that they got to go home. The rest of the drive consists of Pablo singing every song that plays and Aurora asking you to change the song because Pablo was ruing it.

When you got to the airport, Gavi helped his sister with the luggage. Telling her that he will carry them for her.

"I'll call you when I'm back." He says, putting his head inside the car. "A kiss goodbye?" He makes duck lips.

You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Have fun, bye."

pablogavi added to closefriends

You liked Gavi's story. Answering his dm. He let you know that he was still in Sevilla and that he was having fun.

You forgot to answer him. You were busy with some paperwork you were procrastinating. You needed to finish if you want to see him after he come back from Sevilla.

You tell him that you will be out of the radar for a few days, and when he comes back you will text him when you are free.

You spend your days working and going to uni. You had to study hard if you want to pass with a good grade.

Aurora told you that she gave your greetings to your abuelita and that she sent you something with Pablo.

You thank her and tell her that you'll talk to Pablo to get whatever she sent you. Going back to the books and the studying.

You spend more than you should without reporting you. Gavi went missing in action, too.

You didn't even notice, your phone was running in low battery from all the working and studying you are doing.

You were going back to your place, happy that you finally get to relax and to be free from all the books, all the papers and all the sleepless nights.

You find a very known car parked in front of your house. You get down of your own car, passing beside it like you didn't know.

"Hello, señorita." Gavi says, smiling with such pride. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."

"Oh, hi Mister." You follow his act. "Can you describe this person to me?"

"She's pretty." He began, taking his glasses. "Very pretty. She's a very smart girl, with beautiful hair and a very pretty shiny eyes."

You blush with his words. You love it when Gavi talks about you like that. It makes you feel some type of way.

"I might know her." You answer shyly.

He laughs at your red cheeks. He exits his car, walking over to you and hugging you. "I missed you." He whispers in your ear. Leaving a kiss there.

"I missed you too," you say to him. "Let's get inside. It's really hot." You wave air with your hand.

You grab his hand and open your door. You noticed he has something in his hands. You look at him with a doubtful expression.

"Your abu sends you this." He hands you the bag. "She mentioned to me that you need to open it and try it."

You thank him for bringing you what your grandma sent you. You even thank him for going to see her and spend time with her.

You spend the rest of the day with him, cuddle on the couch, and watch his favorite movies. He was telling you about his family reunion, his trips around Sevilla. Everything.

"What if we go out to eat?" He asks, kissing your hair. "I know I shouldn't break the diet, but I just want to go out with you."

You nod, kissing him and going to freshen up. You fix your hair and brush your teeth. Apply more lip oil and reapply perfume.

He drives to your favorite restaurant, he asks for a corner table, not wanting to he spotted or bother when he's with you.

You tell him about your last few days, how stressed you were, and why you didn't answer any of his texts.

He loves hearing you talk about your day, even when it was just a ramble of two things or about the same thing over and over but in different situations.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks.

You shake your head no. You want to even unbutton your jeans because of how full you feel. Even breathing makes you feel fuller.

"Then let me pay, and we are on our way." He says, calling the waitress to pay.

You two walk out of the restaurant. Gavi has a hoodie that he had in his car. He asks you if you want to walk around, you say yes.

"Mom says that when she's back, she will teach you how to make that cake you loved." He smiles, hugging you by the waist. "That way, when you learn how to make it, you can make it for me."

"I will make it for you whenever you want to." You kiss his cheek. "Stay with me tonight, yes?"

He nods, tightening the grip he has on you. You two pass a man selling single roses. Gavi bought one for you. Handing it to you and stealing a quick kiss.

yourusername has added to closefriends.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Alexa, your friend, asks you.

"I can't. Have something to do." You lie.

That thing you had to do was Pablo coming over to stay inside with you. He called you earlier and asked you to be home.

He was getting food for the two of you and wanted to see this new movie that he was too busy to see.

"Okay then." She shrugged. "If you change your mind, we are going to be at La Bodega. Text me." You nod, saying goodbye.

You drive home, listening to your shared playlist that Gavi created for you. That way, when you were together, the songs you liked were going to mix.

As soon as you get home, you clean the small mess you have in the living room. You take a shower to erase the sweat from the weather.

You decide to watch your show while you wait. Making time for Gavi to get out of whatever he's doing.

After a few episodes, you realize that Pablo was later than what he usually is. You check your phone to see if he texted you or something.

Nothing.

You sent him a text asking if he was okay. You want to make sure that it was just him being late, or maybe he got caught up doing something else.

After the first five minutes, you thought < maybe he's busy >

After ten, you started to worry. < what if during recovery, he hurt himself? >

After more than an hour, you decide to call him. The beeping of the line and the authorized voice of his voice mail made you even more worried.

You tried again. Nothing.

You calm yourself, maybe he got busy with something and couldn't come. Maybe he's in a meeting and you were interrupting.

You continue watching your show, trying to leave the worry away. He was fine. He has to be.

You get up and prepare yourself some instant Ramen. Your plans of waiting for Pablo are now long forgotten.

You didn't understand, but you didn't make it bigger. Two missed calls and a few unread texts were everything you did, and it was enough.

At one time, you turn your tv off. Walking to your room and getting into bed. You check your phone one last time, confirming that Pablo read your texts but didn't answer them.

He was going to explain himself later. It was all okay.

But... was it?

Pablo took not one day or maybe two. It took him five days before he showed up at your door.

You might think that after the texts, the missed calls, after you basically were dead worried about him.He was going to explain himself.

Thar he was going to give you the resume of what happened for him to be ignoring you like that.

But no, Pablo didn't do that.

He even asked you why you were blowing up his phone. HE was confused.

"Gavi, you told me you were coming and when you didn't. I got worried." You tell him, sitting next to him on the coach. "I even thought that maybe something happened to you during recovery."

He opens his eyes. "No, don't say that." He chuckles. "God, no."

"Then what happened?" You ask, hand on his cheek. "Tell me."

He thinks for a while, not sure what to tell you to calm you down.

"Aurora and Javi got into a fight." He says. "And I needed to be there for her. You understand that my sister was in distress and I wasn't going to leave her alone. I'm sorry I got busy, I really am."

You calm down, believing his dumb story. "No, you did the right thing." You say, caressing his skin. "I just got worried, that's all."

He pushed your head towards him. Giving you a kiss. "I'll make it up." He smiles, not worried Bout a single thing. "Now, why don't we watch that movie I told you about?" He asks, kissing you again.

You nod, letting the whole thing slide.

Oh boy, you were wrong for that.

After letting Pablo get away with that, he started to act differently. You blame it on him being stressed about the Sevilla game. Maybe he wanted to train extra hard and be prepared for anything.

You call him out for that. He apologized and invited you out. Insisting on going to dinner as a way for him to apologize.

He asked you to meet there since he was going straight up after training. He told you that the Mister decided for training to be in the evening.

You got yourself ready. Got your makeup on, your pretty hair well done. You got your nice perfume on.

All of that for him to be more than an hour late.

"Hey!" You say calling the waitress attention. "Can I get the check?"

She takes a look at your table, the empty bottle of soda, and your sad look was enough for her to feel bad.

"It's okay." She smiles. "It's on the house."

You thank her, already feeling too embarrassed to fight her for the check. You left some money for her, as a thank you.

You drive home, mad that you let this happen. You were expecting more from him, only to be let down by your own expectations.

You log into social media, trying to forget about your anger at him, only to find out a picture of him from only like thirty minutes ago.

gavirafan06

Liked by 763 others

gavirafan06 Gavi with a fan tonight.

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ferminxgavi wait is that the girl they are talking about on twitter?

gavirafan06 apparently they were out with his sister and his mom 🤔

masialover10 they say her user is @/antogmz but her account is private tho

He was out with someone else, and his mom and sister were with him.

You were waiting for him, and he didn't even have the decency of calling you and canceled the date.

You throw your phone to the bed. Went to the bathroom and did your skincare. You feel down, Gavi wasn't like that. Not with you.

You give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was a fan who was casually in the back or someone else.

You don't want to make assumptions. You want him to explain himself. Even when you already decided that he was innocent.

Aurora called you the next day. Asking you if you wanted to go out and have some lunch together. You agreed to meet her.

She asked you to pick her up, thing that you agree with, too. You got ready and drove to her brother's house.

You want to talk with Gavi, ask him why he didn't showed up, but you don't want to look pushy or like a bother.

You ring the doorbell. After a few seconds, you are greeted by Belen. She got happy to see you, hugging you and pulling you inside the house.

You make small talk with her, she mentioned how much she wants you to come over so you can learn those food recepies you always ask her.

"I promise that I'll make time to come sometime around this week." You say, waving goodbye at her.

Aurora and you walk out. She was happy to see you and be able to talk to you. You were happy too, she was an amazing friend to you.

"Are you coming tonight?" She asks casually.

You look at her, confused about what she's talking about.

"What's tonight?" You ask. "I've been busy, and I've been forgetting things, sorry." You say, pretending to understand what she meant.

"Pablo is hosting a barbecue. His friends from Sevilla are in town, and he wants to celebrate with them." She exolains to you. "You remember now?" She laughs.

You nod, smiling at her. You feel your stomach turning. Gavi got the friends you two have in common, invited them, and left you out.

"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" You ask her.

"You just did." She jokes, making you roll your eyes as you chuckle. "Go on, ask me."

"But, promise me you'll be honest with me." You say, frown in your face.

She stops eating to look at you with a serious face. "Of course. What is going on?"

You think the question a few moments. You don't know how to deliver it and make it sound like a doubt, and not like a desperate thing.

"Is Gavi seeing anyone?" You finally ask.

She starts coughing. Lifting her hand for you to give her a moment. "Sorry, I ate too quickly." She lies.

You hand her the glass of water, trying to help her pass the food. "You okay?"

She nods, gaining composure. "Sorry, yes. I am." She says, drinking water. "Why are you asking me that?" She asks back.

You shrug. "He's been kind of ghosting me." You explain. "And I don't want to hurt myself and think that maybe what we have is going to work and then find out that he is seeing someone else."

She softened the expression on her face. "Y/n." She sighs. "Pablo likes you more than he cares to confess." She says, grabbing your hand. "Believe me when I tell you that he only thinks about you."

You smile at her. Happy with her answer.

"He's been busy." She excuses him. "With all the training and him wanting to be as ready as possible for the match, I think he's been out of the blue."

You nod, understanding that he was worried about his comeback. Busy with his own life and trying to make it out as if.

"Well, I'm calmer now that you tell me that." You smile at her. "Thank you." You say, squishing her hand.

You go on with your day, the bright smile you have on your face was something nobody was taking away.

You drive Aurora home, asking her to tell her mom that yoh will be back to learn everything she wants to teach you.

You then drive back home. You need to finish some projects. You texted Gavi, letting him know that Aurora told you Bout the barbecue and asking if he needed anything.

He only texted that he would come over to talk.

You don't pay mind to that. Finishing with your homework and even using the free time to do some upcoming projects.

You don't notice the time passing by, until someone knocks on your door. You check the time. It was 5 pm.

"Hola," you smile at Gavi. Moving to the side to let him in. "Before you say anything, Aurora already told me that you've been busy and very tired and I totally understand why you forgot about dinner."

He frowns, not even understanding what you meant by that. "Okay." He says, shrugging. "Talking about Aurora, you told me she invited you over tonight?" He asks.

You nod happy. "She did. That's why I was asking if you needed me to bring something."

He scratches the back of his neck. Trying to find a way to say what he was about to say.

"Are you oka-" You were asking, until you got interrupted by him.

"You can't come." He says. The serious tone of his voice makes you shiver.

You frown. Looking at him not understanding.

"What?"

He sighs. "You are not invited." He says, looking annoyed. "Aurora wasn't supposed to invite you, and frankly, I don't want you there."

You feel the knife stabbing you in the heart. He didn't want you there. You stayed silent for a few minutes.

He's trying to read your blank expression, but he can't.

Your vision becomes blurry. "Oh." You whisper. "Okay."

He feels bad about hurting your feelings.

"Y/n, list-"

"You should go." You interrupt him. "It's getting late, and you'll have people over." You say, walking to the kitchen.

You don't want him to see you cry, but you can't help the sob that scapes your lips. That makes him feel even worse.

"Preciosa, listen." He tries one more time.

"No, Pablo." You turn around mad. "You need to leave." You say, stern tone. "Now!"

You clean your tears. You refuse to cry in front of him. You don't want to show him how much this situation is affecting you.

"Why are you so mad?" He asks, exasperated. "You act as if you are my fucking girlfriend." He shouts.

You pass from the sadness to anger in one sentence. Your fight mode activates.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, trying to hide the angry sob that scapes your lips. "I'm sorry that I act as if I'm someone you treat me like. I'm sorry I'm crying because I genuinely thought that you cared about me, and now I'm realizing that you don't. "

He rolls his eyes. That only makes you feel so much fury.

"I do care about you." He says. "But fuck, I never told you we were a thing. You assumed things up, and now you are blaming me for it."

You let out a laugh. "I assumed?" You ask. "I assumed things up when you called me all those nicknames? Huh?" You start pointing out. "I assumed things up when you held my hand, kissed my lips, slept over in my bed? Huh?"

He's silent, knowing that there's no going back from here. "Liste-"

"No!" You shout. "Did I assumed things up when you were fucking me?" You ask, the bitter tone is evident. "I gave you everything, Pablo. And you can't even give me a decent excuse. Are you really blaming me?"

"Did I asked you to give me all that?" He asks.

That simple question makes you understand everything. Your energy got all down. You don't even want to keep talking.

"You are right." You nod. "You can leave now, message received."

He stops the hard frown that's on his face. He softens his look. What he just did was not what he wanted to happen.

He wanted for you to understand that he never wanted something serious, but he let it go for more than he should.

And even when he does like you, he can't be with you like he wants to. He needs to keep his distance, and you are making things more difficult than it should be.

"Go, please." You beg, trying to hold the tears. "Enjoy your party, and I hope you enjoy playing again."

You walk away from him. If he wanted to stand there, you weren't going to see it. You slam the door of your room.

You place a pillow on your face, yelling the frustration on it. Shutting the scream that your heart was letting out.

Gavi left, slamming the door on his way out. He cursed everything that was on his view radar. Blaming himself and his stupid boy mind. But not enough for him to turn around and do the right thing.

You cry into your pillow. You are hurt and confused about why he was acting like that.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who brings you flowers just because.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who takes you out on dates and walks after training because he misses you. Even when he saw you before training.

He wasn't your Pablo.

But not even Pablo was your Pablo.

You feel tired and falling asleep during the crying process.

When you woke up with a headache and puffy red eyes, you know it wasn't a dream. Gavi just told you that he doesn't see you the way you see him.

You got up, walked to your bathroom, and washed your face. You shrugged and decided to take a shower.

Your day began good, you even had some fun time with Aurora. Who would've thought that I was going to be the last time you did that.

You slowly do your night routine, trying to feel better. As if that's what you need. You order take out and decide to eat it while watching your show.

When you get tired, you open your Instagram. The first post is a story Gavi posted. You click on it and enter his profile, unfollowing him.

You think for a second. Angerly deciding that you were not only going to do that but also blocking him in the process.

You went then to your feed, refreshing it after a while. It didn't have anything good for you to engage.

You move to Twitter. The first thing you find is a tweet about this girl named Antonella. She apparently was Gavi's new fling.

You read through the tweets, finding out that she was the girl that the Instagram comments were talking about.

You read that someone mentioned her Instagram account. Deciding that it wasn't enough pain for one day, you went back to Instagram. Searching her.

You click her profile, noticing something very interesting. She follows you. You clicked on "follow back" requesting to follow her.

You don't have to wait that long after she accepts your follow request. You go straight to her posts, stalking her like a crazy fan.

You find something very interesting. Gavi liked and commented on her posts. But that didn't really surprised you.

It was Aurora's likes and comments on her page. Commenting like she knew her from all her life. You were closed to the two of them, and you can't remember anyone with that name or that looks.

You click on her story, only to find out why Gavi didn't want you at his barbecue.

antogmz has added to her story

You know Pablo a little too much to recognize him. And even if you have a little doubt about it, the background gives you all the answers.

He was at his house. He threw a party with all the friends you thought you two shared. But they aren't your friends if they know he's with someone else and decide to hide it from you.

You block your screen. Tired of going out of your way to make Gavi someone so on top of everything. You can't keep putting him before you. Not anymore.

What hurt you the most was that Aurora knew about it.

You can't blame her for siding with Gavi. She's his sister, so it was obvious that she was going to prioritize him over you.

But when you asked her if Pablo was seeing someone else, she denied it. Telling you that he likes you and that he only thinks about you.

She lied to you, giving you fake expectations.

You blink the tears away. You don't want to cry. You already feel dumb enough to keep humiliating yourself for him.

After a while, you open your phone again, you don't want to think about him. You start to see the insta stories of your friends.

That's when you see the one from Aurora.

aurorapaezg has added to her closefriends.

You see the tags on her story. It was everyone. The only one who wasn't invited was you. And you can't get mad, the sadness overpowering every feeling.

You tried to distract yourself, checking your feed again to see what's happening. Maybe finding a funny video or something. But no.

You click on that one picture even when you know it was going to hurt.

gavixpedri

Liked by 2,284 others

gavixpedri New picture of Gavi and his alleged girlfriend @antogmz in his Barcelona home.

There's rumors that she's going to be at the game against Sevilla. If that's true, then this will confirm their relationship.

Gavi and Anto have been linked up since a few weeks ago. People from Sevilla mentioned that he was seen with her on different occasions.

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gavilover9 I thought aurora's friend was his girlfriend

gavixpedri No 😭 she's only a friend after all

barcamessi10 this is the hardest launch I've ever experienced 😭😭😭 he was in recovery a few weeks ago and now he has a girlfriend

gavixpedri I knowwww 😔 we missed a lot of chapters. I stayed at the one where Y/n and him were allegedly a thing 😭

This was from the same night that he left you waiting on the restaurant. He was with her.

You try to stay as low profile as you could. Gavi tried to contact you over text and tried calling. You left all his messages go to voice mail and made sure to mark as read all his texts.

You were coming back from Uni when you found that particular car parked in front of your house. You take your keys out, walking without stopping.

You were about to walk inside your house when you felt an arm pulling you away from the door.

"Just give me five minutes." He begged.

"No!" You say, stern tone. "Let go off me." You order him.

"Four?"

"Let go off me, Pablo." You say again.

"Only one, please. I'm begging you." He beggs.

Those stupid puppy eyes he has are making the devils work. You can't say no to that, and he knows it.

"I'm counting, so you better start talking." You say, lifting your arm to see your watch.

He let go of your arm. "I'm fucking sorry I ever spoke to you in that way." He says, words coming out of his mouth as if he was rapping some Eminem song. "You are someone I find really important to me, and if I ever gave you the impression of liking you is because I really do. I just don't want to hurt you." He pauses to take a break.

You pull your arm down. "Ironic, cause you did hurt me." You say, trying not to sound so harsh.

"And I really regret everything. You are my friend and I shouldn't have played you like I did. I really want you back in my life. I just don't know how to work as a partner. That's why when you never asked me to label our relationship, I was fine with it because you were too."

"Did I ever tell you I was okay with that?" You ask, interrupting him.

He shakes his head no. "I'm sorry."

"Fine, apology accepted." You say. "Now, your time is over. Have a nice day, Pablo."

You were about to turn, but his hands stopped you. "I have this for you." He says, handing you a pass.

"What is this?" You ask confused, not taking it in your hands.

"It's a pass for tonight's match." He smiles. "I'm finally playing, and I want you there. You helped me in my recovery, and I can't thank you enough." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I know I'm an asshole, I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please, please come to the game." He says, begging again.

You look at the pass in his hand, not sure if you should take it or not.

"Please, at least take it and think about it." He says.

You nod, grabbing the pass from him. You then turn back and walk into your house. You close the door after you.

You look at the pass, it says your number and your seat. < Seat 332 >

Just like always.

You left the pass on your table. Not quite sure if you should go. What if his friends and family looked at you weirdly over you coming to his game?

You shake that idea out of your mind. Gavi's family loved you. Maybe not as his partner, but as the girl who helped him during his worse times.

And that was something nobody was taking from you. Ever.

You try to not think about the pass. You clean your house, you cooked lunch, you watch your show.

You even take a shower, something refreshing.

When you open your closet, you see the jersey. Mayne ut was a sign. Maybe you should go.

You take it as a sign for you to go. You changed into something appropriate for the game. You apply some light makeup and walk out to the stadium.

You were late, and you got into the stadium thanks to Gavi's pass. He asked beforehand for you to be allowed to get in, even if it was only a few minutes left of the game.

A security officer walks you to the vip section. You thank him for allowing you in, he just nodded and left.

You walk into the vip section. Standing over at the doors of the door that's dividing the seats from the lobby.

You noticed that Gavi was about to get subbed in. Everyone on the section was standing and clapping for him.

You can hear people chanting and screaming his name. Everyone was happy about it.

They were all too excited that people didn't really take a seat during the last eleven minutes of the game. That's all that Gavi played, including extra time.

People clapped at the fact that Barca won five to one. You can feel the tears in your eyes.

The longest eleven months of your life. At the same time, those months were short when it came to helping Pablo recover.

Pablo was looking over at the section you were in. People are still up, slowly seating down because it is the vip section. People don't just walk away.

Then the people that left are gone, and people are seated back. You were about to walk into your seat but you noticed something.

She was in your seat.

You look back at the field, finding his eyes on you. You move your eyes from him to the seat. Where she was waving her hand trying to get his attention.

You feel your vision getting blurry. Understanding that it wasn't your seat to take anymore.

It was hers.

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 🤍

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tofics · 7 hours ago

Text

You Owe Me - Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Forced through circumstances out of your control to rely on Joel Miller, you end up traversing the country with him. You're not particularly enthralled with him, and neither is he with you - or so you think, until your period strikes, and you're practically bed-ridden. Or: Joel can't stop jerking off to you after he accidentally got a taste of your lips.

Warnings/tags: canon typical show/game violence, sort of dubious consent (reader gets kissed without being asked and only later agrees), age gap (reader is about ~25 years younger), enemies to lovers kind of, awful period + period cramps, jerking off, fluff, slap on the cheek (brat taming??), unprotected p in v

Word count: ~9k

Previously: How all of that had brought him here, kneeling behind you as the sweetest moans fell from your mouth once more - he didn't know. Joel couldn't tell whether you were a blessing or a curse, if you were the price he had to pay or the price he received. Seeing as how his life had gone though, it was unlikely that you were the latter. And yet he couldn't help but feel like he'd won when he brought his thumbs down on the sides of your lower spine and earned a low moan in return, long and elongated and putting all kinds of pictures into his mind that his head momentarily fell to his chest, a pained expression painted across it. No, no. You were both. A blessing and a curse.

"Joel?"

The mention of his name brought him back to reality. He blinked once, twice, before his eyes focused on you. You were looking at him over your shoulder through hooded lids, your hair all frizzy around your head from how it had rubbed against the cushion. Lord have mercy. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said you looked all fucked out.

"What is it, darlin'?"

There it was again. Not your finger in his face, no, but your bottom lip slowly pushing out into a pout. Joel swallowed. You had to be doin' this on purpose, right? ...right?

"You stopped." You looked at him with your pout, all sad and sorrowful. It was such a pitiful picture that the corners of Joel's mouth quirked up.

"Sorry. Thumbs're hurtin', is all. Gimme a moment," he replied and shifted so you hopefully, hopefully couldn't see the strain in his pants.

You sighed and plopped your head back down on the sofa. Joel exhaled quietly in relief.

"S' still hurting like hell in the front," he heard you murmur into your arms.

"Hmm?" His thumbs were hurtin', he hadn't lied about that. While he waited for the ache to pass, he gently drew his fingers across the exposed skin of your back. He could do that much, at least. And he'd get to keep touching you.

"S' still cramping like hell," you repeated and looked back up at him over your shoulder. That goddamn pout.

Joel inhaled deeply. Keep yourself in check. His hand brushed over your lower back once more. "I know, darlin'. I'm sorry."

He'd had a lot of low points in his life, there was no doubt about that. But this, this had to be his lowest. Joel was bent over what had once been a bathroom counter, his forehead bunched up as he brought his fist down around his hardened cock, once, twice, again and again. Here he was, furiously jacking himself off behind closed doors, trying to hold in his moans and groans through gritted teeth and bitten lips while you finally slept in the living room.

It had taken a while until you'd been able to drift off to sleep. Joel had massaged your lower back a little longer, the hard-on in his pants pressing uncomfortably against the seams, but he hadn't dared to adjust himself for fear of you turning around and seeing what your moans had caused. He'd felt like a fuckin' teenager, getting a boner like that from just touching on you. It was ridiculous. And then, you'd asked him to pet your head.

Can I lay on your lap while you brush over my head? He was convinced then that you knew. You simply had to know. But there was nothing on your face that indicated any form of evil intent on your behalf. You just wanted his comfort - you were in pain, nothing more than that. Joel had scolded himself, then awkwardly gotten up with a pillow already held to his crotch as inconspicuously as possible. C'mon, he'd said and you'd laid your head on his lap, two layers of worn out fabric and a few measly clumped up feathers being the only thing that kept your face from his hard-on. He'd almost felt ashamed as you closed your eyes and he began stroking a hand over your forehead. Sick old pervert.

That's how he felt now, hunched over as he got himself off to the memories of your moans once more. He came onto the splintered wood with a muffled groan, his free hand balled into a fist. Sick old pervert, he told himself again as he wiped his hand on a ragged old towel behind the bathroom door and closed his pants back up. He'd make sure to tell you not to go into this bathroom when you woke again next morning. Dead infected, he'd say, and hope that you wouldn't check.

Your period wasn't any more forgiving on the second day than it had been the first. You spent most of it on the couch, dozing in and out of your misery while every single bone in your body ached. The only times you got up were to change your pads and to do your business in the backyard, making sure each time to tell Joel to not look. He was weirdly gentle with you, bringing you water every now and then and making sure you ate. He'd apparently found a well in one of the backyards just a few houses away, so at least you didn't have to worry about dehydrating while you bled and bled and bled.

You woke up again sometime in the late afternoon to the warmth and crackling sounds of a fire. Joel must've had started it in the fireplace while you had been asleep. You also found yourself draped in a blanket that hadn't been there before. A small smile appeared on your face at the gesture. Gruff and snappy as he was, he sure had his sweet moments, just like when he'd massaged you last night.

With a stifled yawn you stretched your (still) aching limbs, then paused mid-stretch as your eyes landed on something by the fireplace. What was that hanging from a string above the fire...?

"JOEL!"

Thump, thump, thump. He came thundering down the stairs and sprinted into the living room, rifle raised.

"What, what," he asked hoarsely, his eyes quickly scanning the room for whatever danger had made you call out to him. You glared at him from your position on the sofa.

"Did you - did you wash my pads?!"

He blinked, then lowered his rifle. A hint of pink colored the tip of his ears. "Uh... yeah. Figured you'd need 'em." He scratched his neck, shuffled his foot.

You kept staring at him. "You... washed. My pads."

You could feel the heat in your face as your own cheeks got colored a soft pink.

"Uh-huh." He nodded again. "Washed 'em out in cold water first, then boiled 'em..." Joel finally seemed to pick up on your embarrassment. "Ain't much different than washin' bloody clothes." He shrugged.

"Umh. Thank you." Pink was a long forgotten shade. Your face resembled more that of a tomato now.

"Don't mention it." Joel stood in the doorway a moment longer, then went back upstairs to do whatever he had been doing before you'd called him down.

Some things fade as time passes. For example, you didn't remember much about your mom. She'd passed away early on after the outbreak, and you had been so young, barely ten years old, that you had a hard time recalling her in your mind. There were a couple of times though when you'd hear her in your mind clear as day.

This was one of those moments, as you stood in the upstairs bathroom of the house you and Joel were staying in. The cracked mirror was foggy as you stepped up to it and ran a hand over the cold and wet glass. Your reflection was slightly warped, but you could see the warm flush in your cheeks, the way your damp hair settled around your head.

Baths can make you feel like a new person. She'd always said that as she'd bathed you when you were sick, and you had to give it to her. She was right about that.

Joel had surprised you with a bath, of all things. He'd spend a day upstairs scrubbing down this tub so he could fill it with hot water, one bucket warmed up over the fire carried up after the other, the tub filling up painfully slowly. You'd walked up and down with him with each water delivery excitedly, watching how the water level slowly rose. Of course you had offered to carry some of the buckets yourself - it's for me, just let me do the work - but he had just shaken his head and grumbled at you. I got it.

It had felt so good, slipping into the warm water. You carefully used the strands of soap you had shaved off of the piece Joel had stashed in your backpack, taking your time as you slathered your body from head to toe. The warmth of the water relaxed your muscles. By the time you were done, you truly did feel like a new person.

You had spent the last three weeks in the same outfit, but now you slipped into the spare set that had been in your backpack. Complete with a fresh pair of panties and a fresh pad, you couldn't remember a time you'd felt so comfortable in the last three, now almost four weeks.

The drain gurgled as you let out your bath water. Soap, grime and blood all swirled around and then slowly disappeared down the creaky old pipes.

Joel sat downstairs by the fire as you came down. His gaze flickered up to you from his book as you stepped into the living room.

"How was it?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to express your gratitude. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, nestled around with the fabric in your fingers. "Like a whole new person," you said finally, a soft smile settling on your lips.

He could tell you meant it too. There was a sense of serenity about you that had been severely lacking the past two days - hell, the last couple of weeks. Joel hadn't known you all that long, but this was the first time you didn't seem tense.

"Mhh, I can tell. Might have to go through that whole hassle again, make me a new person too. Sure could do with a new pair of knees."

The bath didn't grant him a new set of knees, but he couldn't deny that he felt fresher than he had in weeks. He came down the stairs to tell you how you'd been right, running a hand through his damp locks to get 'em out of his forehead when he found you on the couch, a sour expression on your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Thought you said you felt all fresh," he commented as he sat down in the armchair again. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at the sight of your frown. Hadn't he helped you feel good? You mumbled something under your breath, still staring at the ceiling.

"What's that now?"

You sat up with a sigh. "I said I did, right up until these fuck-ass cramps picked up again." Another one shot through your abdomen right then, like your uterus was giving you the finger for what you had said. You winced and closed your eyes, your nostrils flaring. Why, why had you been born a woman?!

"Back hurtin' you again?"

You nodded, unable to keep the pout from your lips. "The whole damn deal."

Joel knew. He knew he shouldn't. He'd done so well today, busying himself in completely taking apart his gun, cleaning it meticulously before setting it back together as you took your bath. The idea of you, laying in that tub in just your birthday suit - it had only appeared to him once, maybe twice. His hands had stayed out of his pants, he hadn't paid any new visits to the downstairs bathroom.

But now, you were in pain. He shouldn't offer. He'd done enough today, heaving bucket after bucket of scorching hot water up the steps to fill that tub for you. He'd done his share.

"Want me to have another go at it?"

God-damn-it, Miller. Pray she says no. What was he supposed to do? Let you suffer?

Damn right you should, he scolded himself.

"Would you? You've already done so much for me today. I couldn't impose on you like that -"

Damn right, you couldn't.

"Ain't no bother, sweetheart. C'mon. On your knees, like yesterday."

Diggin' yer own damn grave, that's what yer doin. And didn't he know it.

You were so compliant, so quick to get down on your knees in front of the couch. Joel had half a mind to put a stop to the images that were already flooding his mind at how swiftly you slid from the couch to the ground.

Sick old pervert. Gettin' off on commandin' a young little thing to get on 'er knees.

His joints ached as he dropped down on one, both knees behind you, once again glad for the fact that your head was already buried in the sofa cushions. He was sure the eagerness was written across his face, just short of some drool leaking down his chin.

Should be ashamed of yerself.

He would be, later. When he'd undoubtedly be curled over the bathroom counter once more, spray painting its remnants with his cum. He'd been so good today-

"Joel." You whined in front of him, lightly wiggled your hips as if to say get a move on. Joel found himself questioning once again if perhaps you did know what you were doing to him. "Alright, alright. Gettin' to it, kiddo. No need to whine."

Just like the day before, you melted like chocolate under his touch. Your tense body became pliant, coming loose under his strong thumbs digging into your back. Up your spine, up up up, from down around your tailbone all the way up to your ribcage. In his fingers dug, kneading through your skin and muscles like you were dough.

He'd pushed up your shirt a little higher this time, just an inch or two. You hadn't commented on it. Save for his name, you hadn't said anything since you'd gotten back down on your knees. With the first slump of your shoulders came your first moan, sweet and short, like you probably had moaned when you'd dipped your toes into the hot water first. Joel pressed his thumbs up your spine carefully, running his calloused tips deep into your tissue. A red trail followed his motions as your skin began to bloom under his touch.

Up and down, up and down. His fingers worked tirelessly into your aching back. Joel's brows were furrowed in concentration as he searched out the kinks in your muscles, finding the delicate spots that made you jump and keen. Whether you knew it or not, the words tumbling from your lips when he found a point that gave you trouble were like cocaine to him. Oh my god Joel, right there, fuck- and shit, yes, that's the spot- and right there, right there, oh good fucking god.

It took about three of your moans and one mumbled praise for his work until you'd hitched the tent in his pants again. Joel's cock twitched in his boxers as he dug into your back, begging to be set free. The tips of his ears were burning, set alight each time you commented on another knot he found in your back.

Sick old pervert.

He couldn't help it. Touching you was like drinking nectar. He'd never felt anything so delicate under his weathered hands, never before touched on skin so soft and warm -

"Fuck, Joel, right there. Oh god, yes. Don't stop, please."

You'd be the death of him.

"Tell me where it hurts, babygirl."

Your hands came around your back, shakily trying to locate the spots that bothered you. Joel backed up an inch so you wouldn't accidentally brush over his hard-on.

"S' in here-" Your hand flew over your lower spine, close to your tailbone, where Joel had already spent a good portion of his energy. "An' here-" You fingered over where your bra sat, then hunched up your shoulders. "-n' here, drawing all up into my neck." Your fingers trailed up your neck and got lost in your hair at the base of your neck.

"Mh." Joel tutted at you. "Got my work cut out for me, hu, darlin'?"

He saw your head beginning to turn towards him, likely to interject how he didn't have to, but he laid his hands on your shoulder blades instead, swiftly pushing you back down into the cushions. "Ah, ah. Ain't said I wasn't gonna do it. Relax, darlin'. I got you."

He could feel the grumble vibrate in your chest as he slid his fingers down your spine. "Mh. Lotta' spots givin' you trouble, mh?"

She said as much. Ya need te hear it again, sick old pervert?

"See if we can rectify that for ya, eh? Let Joel take care of ya."

He knew he was treading on thin ice, practically heard it cracking under his feet. His words bordered on dirty talk, but he just couldn't help himself. You gave your back to him so willingly, downright begging for his touch.

He was just a man, after all.

A sick, old, perverted man.

"Might wanna lose this, darlin'. Gonna be a relief for sure, n' I can't go rubbin' over it." Joel lightly tapped on the clasp of your bra over your shirt. He already knew he was going to hell anyway. And he really couldn't go on rubbing over your bra. Wouldn't have been comfortable, for you or him.

He'd expected you to object, had half expected a lecture (that he rightfully deserved), but none of that came. Instead, he watched you do that little wiggly move he'd seen women do before where they reach under their shirt and take their bra off without anything ever showing. It had always been one of his favorites to see. One second a woman would be wearing a bra, the next it got tossed across the room, not a single piece of clothing ever having gone amiss in the meantime. As far as Joel was concerned, it was a little magic trick.

And you pulled it off without a hitch. He tried not to look in too much detail as you put the garment next to you on the sofa. He had other things to focus on.

Wallpaper, wallpaper, hole in the wall, wallpaper, rusty nail, crooked crown molding. He could've fixed that easy, back in the day. Didn't need much more than the tools in his belt to do it. Would've made a fine job of it too.

Door frame. Tarnished, cracked. Long forgotten. He could take care of it, bring it back to life, with just a few touches here and there. Just a bit of straightening up the ridge, nothing too fancy. He could certainly do it, expert that he was, doing work with his hands. He'd bring the wood back in shape, love the wood like it was meant to be, gently work on it until it'd comply with his hands and mold to his touch, soft and warm-

No, no, strong and hard, like wood was supposed to be. Fuck, this was going nowhere.

Joel was doing all in his might to distract himself from how you were falling apart under his touch. Your moans didn't let up, praises flowing freely from your mouth as he slowly worked his way up your entire back, pushing more and more of your shirt out of the way until all of your back was exposed to him.

He was glued to the carpet where he knelt, afraid to even move an inch. If he looked hard enough, he could imagine the soft rounds higher on your torso, where shoulder blades softly gave way to what he was sure was a delightful pair of boobs-

No, nope, he wasn't gonna move. Couldn't risk it, not even an inch. If just the thought of your breasts sent his head careening, what would a mild case of side-boobs do to him? He couldn't risk it.

Pity what you consider 'standards', pervy old man.

He did what he could. And he was making you feel so good. You kept telling him so. That had to count for something, didn't it?

You wish.

Where was he, then?

Door frame. Right. Perhaps he'd have to replace parts of it. That'd be okay, too. He'd have to find wood to match the leftover structure - sand the original down, couple of times likely, then apply the stain. He could make sure the new and old pieces matched up that way-

"Fuck, Joel. Yes. Right there."

His head slumped down in defeat.

"Babygirl, please. Go easy on me. I can't do this no more." Joel's beard touched on his chest as he shook his head. "I can't - I'm tryin', I am -"

He heard you shift, felt the loss of your warm skin under his hands as you turned around in front of him. He couldn't look, just kept his eyes shut, not out of respect but-

Open yer damn eyes, you coward. See how she looks at you. Face your shame.

Joel forced his eyes open.

He wasn't met with shame, or even disgust. You had a worried look to you, like you couldn't quite figure out what had happened.

"Are you okay? I'm - I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have let you go on for so long, your hands must be hurting-" You felt awful. Joel looked like he was in actual pain. In all your bliss, you had let him work on your back for way longer than you had promised yourself, and he had overexerted himself.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you started again, but then his hand flew up in the air, silencing you almost immediately. You looked at him with big eyes, trying to read his face. He was red all over from how exhausted he was.

Let an old man work for you like that, you should be ashamed. What are you, a princess?

"Joel-"

"Darlin', I ain't hurtin'. Is' - s' just - goddammit." You watched him run a tired hand over his face. Was it just you, or were the tips of his ears a slightly darker shade of red than the rest of his face?

Joel sighed. You looked at him with worried eyes. What had you done?

"Sweetheart, ain't about you workin' me to the bone. I don't mind that one bit. Trust me," he insisted as you opened your mouth to object. "S' about how you... how you respond to my touch."

You furrowed your brows. "Uh...huh?"

"Your moans, darlin'. They're just about killin' me."

...oh.

You felt your face flush red in a couple of seconds. Of course. How thoughtless of you.

"I'm - I'm real sorry, Joel, I didn't-" Joel shifted in front of you, visibly uncomfortable, and your eyes fell into his lap, widening at what you saw.

Oh.

If possible, you grew a couple shades darker in the face. You could feel the heat pulsating in your ears as your eyes flicked around the room, unsure of where to look. "I'm - uhh, sorry...?"

You heard Joel huff. "Will you quit apologizin'? S' fine. I'm the one that ought to be apologizin'. Ya didn't mean te-"

"You? You've been nothing but good to me all day! You did nothing wrong!"

Another huff of amusement. "I got a tent in my pants here that says otherwise."

Your eyes found his, decidedly staying on his face. "Yeah well, but that's... natural. Not like you're doing that on purpose."

"That bit, no. But I'd be lyin' if I said touchin' on you, workin' your back - that ain't just entirely for your benefit."

He figured if he went with the truth, he might as well come clean about it all. Half-truths had never really been Joel's thing.

He watched you work through his words, could practically see the gears in your head turnin'. He wouldn't have blamed you if you had told him off, hell, he was expecting your finger to come flying into his face any minute now.

"Alright."

He blinked, once, twice. Hu?

"Alright?"

You nodded, slowly at first, then more decidedly. "Alright. Yeah."

Joel's eye was twitching. "Uh... catch me up, darlin'. I got no idea what you mean."

"I mean, alright. Yeah. You can... do me. If you want to."

He watched the words come out of your mouth, heard them coming in through his ears, a faint ringing sound following them. Surely, he had to have heard wrong.

"Come again?"

A slow smile spread across your face. Joel watched it stretch out, like a cat waking up after a nap. The ringing sound in his ears wouldn't die down.

"I said, you can do me. Fuck me. Make love to me, whatever you wanna call it. You have my consent."

Well, now you've done it. You've broken the man.

Joel kept looking at you, a blank expression on his face. The silence between the two of you began to stretch so long that you were seriously beginning to worry.

"...Joel?" You snapped your fingers twice in front of his eyes. "Miller? You home?"

His eyes zeroed back in on you and you let out a sigh of relief. Not a stroke, then. Good. The tips of Joel's ears were burning a bright red. You had to bite down on your lips to keep from smiling.

"You... good?"

He nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. Sorry, sweetheart. Thought I heard you say I could do you there for a second. Fried my brain for a moment."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. The mighty Joel Miller, feared by all, reduced to an abashed puddle by just a few of your words. Now wasn't that something to see.

"Probably cause I did. Do you need me to write you an invitation? Put my consent on paper? You surprise me, Miller. Didn't seem much to care for it when you pulled me in for that kiss on the stree-"

"Uh-uh." Joel suddenly growled and leaned forward, towering slightly over you on his arms. "None of that again. I paid my dues. Got you out. I drew you a damn bath, girly. What more do you want?"

His finger was right in your face, daring you to object to him. You bit down on your lips once more, trying not to grin at the reversed roles.

"I want you to help me with my cramps. Not on my back. In the front. Please?"

Look at that, you old fucker. Got her on her knees in front of you, begging you to take her. Ain't you a lucky old bastard.

And didn't he know it. Joel's tongue darted into his cheek as he looked you over, taking in your puppy eyes and slight grin that was surely meant to taunt him, but only spurned on the hitched tent in his pants. If you had been a sight to see while he drooled over you in secret, you were almost out of this world when you wanted him to touch on you. Like that.

He shifted around on his knees, a hand on his crotch to find a more comfortable position for his hardened cock that was straining to spring free. "Darlin' -" His voice was strained. "Not that I don't want to, but it wouldn't be right, me being that much older than you-"

Oh, so now you got standards, you pervy old man? Who are you trying to fool?

"Joel, do I need to beg?"

Yes darlin', please, on your knees, impatient and whining like when you were waiting for my hands on your back-

"Cause I will."

Lord have mercy.

Joel had you scooped up in his arms faster than you could blink, bringing you onto his lap in one swift motion, his old arms and knees suddenly very willing to be cooperating with him.

"No, sweetheart. Don't gotta beg," he said as he cupped your face with his hands, running a gentle finger over your cheek to tug a hair behind your ear. "Joel's got you. I'll help you with your cramps. No begging needed."

He looked at you a moment longer, determined to take all of it in. The way you were looking at him expectantly, a soft tint of color in your cheeks hinting at the fact that you were perhaps a bit nervous, the way your teeth bit down in your bottom lip. There was a glint in your eyes too, the kind he had seen when he had pleaded for you to work with him. You looked wicked, bewitching. You could've told him to lick the floor in that moment, and he would've done it, no questions asked.

Joel Miller was a goner for you.

No news there, you old fuck. Now get to it, before she changes her mind.

Joel took one last look at you before he gently tilted his head and put your lips on his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and probing, just testing the waters. He was dipping his toes in, seeing how you reacted to him.

Your lips met his hesitantly, just a blank, unmoving canvas at first, but then you came to life. He felt your lips beginning to move against his own, tentatively and careful, just like he had been. Joel's right hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your head to hold you tighter, his left thumb drawing soothing circles on your other cheek for comfort. I got you, darlin'. Let yourself fall, he was trying to say, and you seemed to understand, sighing and relaxing into him with your body.

Spurned on by your reaction, Joel nipped at your bottom lip, asking you to let him in. He didn't have to ask twice. Your lips promptly opened at his silent request, letting Joel's tongue in to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

My god, you tasted like heaven. Joel was certain he'd never tasted anything so sweet in his life before and he couldn't hold back the groan that had built in his throat. His hands flew down to your hips, securing you against him tightly, as he rocked forward to push himself up. "Hold on to me, sweetheart."

You were so obedient, legs swiftly gripping around his waist as he pushed himself up to heave you and himself on the couch. Joel grunted with the effort and from impatience. He couldn't wait to feel your legs wrapped around him like that without a barrier of fabric between them.

You were gently laid down in your preferred place for sulking, though you couldn't currently remember which, if any problems you had had in the past few days to complain about. Any and all period-related issues seemed to have flown right out of your mind the moment Joel had put his lips on yours, and your brain was too busy tracking the movement of his hands on your body to do anything else, even if it was just about 'remembering'.

He had laid you down on the sofa and had positioned himself over you with one knee between your legs, while he steadied himself with one foot on the ground. The couch wasn't very wide, but you didn't have it on your mind to complain, and neither did Joel. Not that you would've had any time to complain either. Joel was too busy by keeping your mouth occupied with his own while his hands traveled up and down your body as if he was trying to map out all your curves and dips. He must've had more than just two hands, the way he was feeling you up, his hands seemingly everywhere on you at once, brushing over your shoulder, running up the side of your neck to tug on your hair at the base of your neck, holding you at your waist to steady you, then gently cupping your breast before giving it a careful squeeze. There wasn't any part of you that remained untouched and all you could do was try to remember how to breathe in between moans.

"Joel," you panted when he'd abandoned your lips in favor of your neck, trailing down kisses towards your collarbone where he nipped at the skin and then promptly brought his lips down on the harsh mark, soothing what little pain he caused you. There was a growing need between your legs, your arousal mixing with your wetness from your period. You felt a tug in your abdomen, decidedly different from the cramps you had been experiencing for the past days. While also slightly painful, this one was born out of want. You wanted Joel inside of you - no, needed him inside of you.

So you're an old-people fucker now? Yeah?

Apparently, you were, if Joel Miller could be described as "old". He certainly felt anything but as his hands glided under your shirt and found one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger trailing up the soft skin until they found your nipple to take between them, rolling it gently between his finger tips. You moaned into Joel's mouth at the sensation, bucked your hips up into him. Needy, needy, needy. You needed him.

Old-people fucker. Yep.

"I got you, darlin'. I got you," he reassured you when you ground your hips against him, willfully. "Just gotta sample everything on the menu first, before we get to the desert. I got you, sweetheart. Relax."

You whined at his murmured words. You couldn't relax, it was the furthest thing from your mind when there was a pool of heat between your legs that you needed to be cooled down.

"Ah, now." Joel tutted in your ear as you writhed beneath him. "Patience, darlin'. You trust me, don't you?"

You pushed your bottom lip out in response. Of course you trusted him. But that didn't mean you couldn't ask him to hurry the fuck up?

There was a light smack on your cheek before you knew it. You blinked, feeling the stinging sensation before heat spread through your cheek where his fingers had struck you.

"I set the pace. You hear me, sweet cheeks?" Joel's beard prickled against your tingling skin as he pressed soft and gentle kisses on your blooming cheek. "'Nough with the impatience. I got you. I'll take care of you. You gotta trust daddy Joel."

Fine, perhaps he got a little carried away with his smack, but you didn't seem to mind, not severely anyway. He watched you closely just in case, looking for signs that you were uncomfortable or wanted him to stop, but even though you'd looked mildly shocked after he had struck your cheek, your eyes had soon glazed back over with bliss as he worked your nipples between his fingertips. Attagirl.

Joel felt like a kid on Christmas morning, the way he got to undress you piece by piece. It was like tearing off wrapping paper, except he didn't tear through your clothes (not for a lack of want - he'd have scoured the down for new clothes for you if he didn't know that was just a tad overboard) but carefully slipped them off of you, piece by piece, step by step. With each garment of fabric that got discarded on the floor, he got to unearth more and more of you. More of your delicate and soft skin that he had been lucky enough to get a taste of from behind as early as the previous day.

He got stuck on your boobs for a good long while, drawn in by the sight as soon as he pushed your shirt up over them. It was just too good of a sight to pass up, and he had to get a taste to commit your breasts to his memory for good. He sampled one boob first, kissing up from below it and working his way towards your areola, taking his time with your nip as he whirled his tongue around it, even gently pulled on it with his teeth.

Joel couldn't decide what he liked better, the way you felt and tasted under his tongue or how your body responded to him, writhing and rocking up towards him to meet his mouth, the sweetest moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he mapped out your torso with his tongue. It was a hard decision, and he kept falling back and forth between it.

He knew he was pushing your patience by sound of your moans changing. They got breathier and whinier as he went on, sampling your other breast in the same slow and painstakingly precise way he had the other, and he could hear how worked up you were getting, your whines rising in pitch with every stroke of his tongue.

"Joel, please."

He chuckled, drew himself up to meet your pleading look at eye-level. "Gettin' there, sweetheart. I promise." Joel watched your bottom lip push out once more into that delightful pout of yours. He dipped down to suck on it, pulling your plump lip in between his and nibbling softly on it before capturing you in another sloppy kiss.

If it hadn't been for the stark reminder in his pants, he would've worked you over until you were nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him, begging for him with tears in your eyes, but alas, he was nearing the end of what he could take as well.

There was only so much he could do to your upper body before he inevitably got pulled downwards to where you wanted him most, needed him most.

You all but scrambled to help him get out of your pants as he tucked the fabric down your hips, your bottom springing up into the air when he tapped a cheek and nudged his head upwards. "Up, babygirl." A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he pulled your pants down your legs, carefully slipping them off your feet. "Needy little thing, aren't ya. Mhh, me too, darlin'. Can't wait either." He lightly grabbed your calf and helped your leg up on his shoulder, peppering kisses up your shin towards your knee.

You fumbled with his hair when he continued his trail up your thigh, stopping him when he was more than halfway towards his target. Joel looked up at you from between your legs, his hand running up and down your leg that was holstered on his shoulder. "Somethin' wrong, babygirl?"

You mumbled something unintelligibly, color blooming in your cheeks without his palms ever having come near either of them. You were too quiet for him to hear all of it, but he could make out a few words here and there. Period and all he heard and don't wanna make a mess and the smell.

Joel kissed your thigh again, not nearing your core. "Don't gotta worry about that, hun. Ain't nothing I'd care about. But I'm not gonna do somethin' you don't want. Alright?" He looked at you, made sure you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You fumbled around with your fingers, visibly uncomfortable. Joel kissed your thigh once more.

"Ain't gonna do anythin' you don't like," he repeated and brought himself up again so he was hovering over your torso once more, lavishing kisses on any piece of skin he could find on his way, save for where your panties kept you hidden from him. He made sure to move around it with enough distance that you knew he took you seriously, honored your boundaries. He still had standards.

Low fuckin' standards. More like bare fuckin' minimum.

If anyone had told you you'd be under Joel fucking Miller three weeks ago, you'd have laughed at them and asked them if they'd had one too many helpings of moonshine. Yet here you were, stark naked from top to bottom, laid out for him to see like an exhibition piece under no one else than Joel fucking Miller, about to fuck you.

It was as much as a surprise to you as his tenderness had been. Besides the strike on your cheek (which, the more you thought about it, you didn't really mind) he was being more than soft and gentle with you, working over every spot of you with a dedication and mind for detail that you had never encountered before. You had been exceedingly grateful when he had heeded your wishes about not coming close to your core with his mouth, and it could have been your imagination, but he had seemed even more gentle with you when he slowly coaxed your panties off of you, praising you and leaving kisses all over as he went. You'd never been called so many pet names in one day, let alone within the two minutes it took him to get you out of your underwear. Doin' so good, darlin' and you're so beautiful, sweetheart and never felt a thing so soft, tasted anything so sweet had been among the many, many things he'd purred at you.

Now he was lining himself up at your entrance, kneeling on the sofa with one leg while he steadied himself with the other on the ground as he softly padded the tip of his cock against your soaking folds. You still didn't feel too keen about being out in the open like that, blood just leaking out of you unstopped, but Joel seemed to have an answer for that too.

"Gonna draw you another bath afterwards, mh, pretty girl? Get you all cleaned up nice?" He dipped just the bare tip of his slightly leaking head between your lower lips, gently dragging it up and down, coating himself in what you were sure was a bloody mess. While picturing what was leaking out of you made you tense up slightly, Joel seemed blissed out at the sighed of it. You could see the glint in his eyes, the hunger that was written all over his face as he dragged his cock up and down through your slick, coating himself and more of you in it.

"Ain't that the prettiest cunt I ever did see," he mumbled, his eyes transfixed on your entrance. You felt your cheeks bloom once more, both from the compliment and embarrassment you felt. It was a strange sensation, to feel so flattered and put on the spot at the same time.

Joel didn't give you much more time to think about it though. You flinched when you suddenly felt his warm tip tapping against your clit, gently but forceful enough to send tiny sparks flying through you. "There she is," he said and you saw the smile draw across his face. "Saw you getting all lost in your own pretty head, darlin'. Can't have you zoning out now, we're just getting to the good part." He lightly tapped against your clit once more, a sly grin taking over when he saw how you inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"With me now, sweet cheeks? Ready for me to come inside?"

Joel fucking Miller, a man full of surprises, as you had come to learn. Looks like he could learn after all.

"Yeah," you breathed out and shook your head eagerly. "Yes, please."

You saw his eyes darken as you renewed your consent. A growl sounded from his chest and he quickly dipped down once more, surprising you with another fierce kiss. "Attagirl."

You felt him align himself with your entrance once more, the tip of his length pressing against your aching entrance. "Eyes on me, sweet cheeks," he murmured and your eyes quickly flew to meet his, not wanting to do anything that could stop him from what he was about to do. A kiss was placed on the edge of your lips. "Good girl. Listening to me so good. Makin' me real happy, you know that?"

You gasped as you felt Joel slowly pushing into you. It was a good stretch, on the brink of too much, but he took it slow, pushing in inch by inch while he peppered your chin with more kisses in between murmured praises. "Look at you, taking me so well. Doin' so good, sweetheart. S' a bit of a stretch, hm? Yeah? Pretty thing like you, all tight for big ole' me?" More kisses rained down on your face, Joel's beard tickling over your cheeks as he kissed down your nose, teeth nipping at your lips. "God, you feel so good," he breathed out and you watched in awe as his eyes fluttered close. He was filling you out more and more and you wondered how much more there could possibly be of him as he kept gently pushing into you.

Joel stilled as he bottomed you out, the tip of his cock pressing into you deeply. You could feel it deep inside of you, a gentle push on a spot you alone could never reach, not even dream of reaching. Your breath was shallow, trying to get acclimated to his width.

You felt Joel's beard brush against your face as his head dipped down. "God, darlin'. Takin' me so good. Let me come in all the way, didn't ya? Such a good girl." Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him retract slightly, the gentle pressure on your inside slowly retreating as Joel slowly pulled himself out of you. Not all the way, no, just enough to make you worry he could, but then his teeth were softly nipping at your chin and you were being stretched out again as he caaarefully drove himself back inside of you.

You made something of a gurgling sound as your eyelids fluttered close while your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. It was the most excruciatingly slow pace he could've taken, and though you knew - guessed - he was doing it on purpose for you, not to tease you, you couldn't help but yearn for more, and faster.

Your hands flew up to Joel's back to pull him closer to you. Would you not have had Joel's penis painfully slowly plowing into you at this moment, perhaps your movements would have been more coordinated. But alas, your hands fumbled all over the place, pulling and grabbing at him in an attempt to get him down to your face so you could kiss him, to hopefully spurn him on to get a move on. You groaned into Joel's mouth when your lips connected at the same time as he met your insides with the tip of his cock once more.

"Fuck, Joel."

He grinned like a stupid school boy as he heard you curse. Hadn't he dreamt of this just a night ago, hunched over the broken bathroom sink? Even if he had imagined it, he never could've imagined this, the real deal. Filling you out with every inch of him was so much better than he ever could've dreamt up himself. Where your moans had been like cocaine to him, your pussy was just straight up heroine. One push inside of you and he knew he was a goner, lost to your pussy forever. He would never feel anything like it anywhere else, that much, he knew.

"Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He kissed your ear as he pulled himself back out, then drove back into you. It was an agonizingly slow pace, but he wanted to savor every moment of it, drag it out for as long as he could. Who knew if you would allow him such a delicacy ever again? He had to make the moment last.

You nodded below him, your cheek rubbing against his scruff as you did. "S'so good, Joel," you murmured against his ear. "But faster, please. Please go faster."

Now how could he say no to such a kind request?

Joel felt his knee object as he adjusted his position on the sofa, preparing himself to fuck into you faster.

Not now.

He didn't have time for aching joints and other ailments. Not when he had you below him, asking him to go faster. Now who was he if he denied a pretty girl like you a favor like that?

A sensible man instead of a pervy old fuck, perhaps?

No. He'd have been a heartless old fuck, that's who.

He grounded himself into the floor with one foot and then got to work. Never mind his fifty-six year old hips. Never mind his aching, complaining knee. He had a job to do, and he was gonna do it.

Joel fucked into you like his life depended on it. He gradually increased his pace until the old sofa was creaking and shrieking underneath the two of you, but those weren't the sounds he was listening for. His hearing was attuned to you instead, carefully dissecting each moan and groan that fell from your lips. What did you like more? What made you groan, what made your fingers dig into his back?

Joel acutely listened to the cues of your body, your verbal ones taking the lead while the rest did their own speaking. He didn't care that your nails pierced the skin on his back, or that you drove your teeth into his forearm, likely leaving a bite mark that would last him a day. It'd be a kind reminder of the gift you were giving him, and had he not been pounding into you at this very moment, he likely would have fantasized about giving the old bathroom another run while staring at the bite on his arm, perhaps running his tongue over the indents in his skin that you were so kindly imprinting at the moment.

"That's right, babygirl, take what you need," he encouraged you and did his best to give you what you needed too. He had heard about it once, how cervical stimulation could help with period cramps, and he could only hope he was alleviating your pain in the same way you made him forget about all his aching joints. Joel wasn't fifty-six as he drove himself into you again and again, he was twenty-five at best, fucking his heart into your pussy like she owned it.

"Joel - Joel -," you whined underneath him and he laid a gentle hand on your face, turning your chin with his thumb so you'd look at him. "Whaddaya need, babygirl? Hm?" He never stopped his pace, never slowed down so you could think better. Joel watched your brows furrow as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

"I'm - Joel, think I'm gonna -"

"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Yeah?" Even though his instinct was to lower himself on you so he could kiss on you again, he knew better than to change his pace or angle now. If he was lucky enough to be able to gift you with an orgasm, he wouldn't pass that chance up, even if it meant to starve himself of your lips.

Your face was scrunching up like you were thinking real hard. Moans were no longer falling in a steady stream from your lips, but Joel didn't worry. He'd been with enough women to know the signs, knew that you were getting close. Even though he missed your moans, excitement tightened his chest as he drove himself into you again and again, hoping to push you over the finish line. It'd be the best damn thing he'd ever done.

He felt you clenching around his dick, your walls cramping down around him more and more as your breath hitched in your chest coherently. One, two, three more pushes, and Joel saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. You fell apart underneath him, moan after moan flowing from your heavenly lips right into his ear, jumbling into one another as your orgasm rocked through you. Joel bit down on his tongue hard, the sight and sound of your climax enough to make him cum right there and then, but he was determined to fuck you through it. He owed you that much.

"That's right, babygirl, let go," Joel cooed as you convulsed underneath him, wave after wave of pleasure slowly rolling through you. He fucked you through it like he promised himself he would, then slowed in unison with your ebbing ecstasy, despite his dick yelling at him to keep going.

Not now. He had other things to focus on.

Joel leaned down to kiss your blissed out face. First your forehead, then each closed eye, down your nose, over your right cheek, left cheek, the corner of your mouth. You kissed him back lazily when he finally landed on your lips, a satisfied hum vibrating in your throat.

"You good, darlin'?" Joel searched your face as you slowly blinked up at him. He ran a thumb over your cheek, drawing small circles on your soft skin.

He didn't care that he hadn't finished. He could do that later, in the bathroom when you were asleep. Of course, nothing would feel as good as your silken walls wrapped around his cock - but that would be fine, too. He'd have all of this to remember, to draw from for the rest of his life, if need be.

You nodded slowly, a sheepish smile on your face now that you had come down from your high. "Yeah. Think I made a mess of you though."

Joel looked down at his pelvis. He was covered in your blood and slick, tinting his pubic hair a deep shade of red. "Don't you worry about that, sweet cheeks. Nothing some water can't clean up. Want me to run you another bath?"

Periods aren't fun, that much was true.

But you couldn't help but think that perhaps, they weren't the worst thing in the world, now that you laid in a bathtub full of warm water, while Joel Miller slowly massaged your upper body.

Having your period in the apocalypse could prove as a challenge, but it helped to have help. Help like Joel Miller, who washed your pads and massaged your back and fucked you deeply to help with your cramps if you asked him.

Yeah, perhaps periods aren't the worst thing in the world, you thought as you tipped your head up and pulled Joel in for a kiss. You could certainly survive another period or two this way.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Yep, part two out not even a full two days later because I could not stop thinking about this fic. This is only the second time ever I've written smut (not counting part 1 of this mini-series?) and I would highly appreciate some feedback! (Don't hold back on the criticism too if you got any, I can take it!) This fic was definitely very much influenced by @strang3lov3's 'Seeing Red' story which I highly, highly recommend, and the fact that I was on my own period. Also, if anyone's wondering, I couldn't stop thinking about these goddamn gifs so I had to bring the cheek biting into this. 🥵 Now, none of this is proof-read so I apologize for any typos etc. Hope you had fun reading this! Please leave a comment if you did 🫶💓

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