#i always take down or wreck shit like this when i see it out+about ((also saw a fucking inf//owars sticker that was too cold to peel off so

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in it, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[shrimpybbq]

a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 1

anon request: do you think you could do little headcannons or like a timeline of each season of their relationship or her character’s involvement in the show? i’m OBSESSED💜

season 1: the set up

introducing, the pogues. all the usual suspects are shown, but the second episode of the season introduces iris. a pogue somewhat mixed up in both sides. she was three years older than the rest of the group, but knew them well as she was jj’s neighbour, and luke always made her babysit jj as a kid, even though she had no clue what to do

iris went to kildare academy on a scholarship and she was always treated awfully for it. she took on a job at a men’s boutique in town too, needing to help pay the bills at home. she also worked as a waitress at the wreck during summer

she’s beautiful though, and as much as she hates the attention, it helps her get extra tips at work

rafe was in her year at the academy, but often got suspended (before ward paid the school off), and the pair never really talked - except for one time

rafe was having a coke-induced panic attack outside the school, crouching down and clawing at his throat as he was convinced no air could get through. he barely even comprehends when iris crouches next to him, soothingly telling him to breathe, allowing him to follow her in-out breathing pattern. he doesn’t realise it’s her until the attack begins to subside and he’s so embarrassed, but mumbles a thank you anyway. he rudely demands she not tell anyone and to his surprise she nods and says “Why would I tell anyone, Rafe? Everyone struggles sometimes and they shouldn’t have that held against them,”

that’s the only proper conversation they have

however, rafe did think she was super hot, but made himself a promise that he’d never stoop so low as to fuck a pogue, and so refuses to give her any more of his attention

after high school, everyone expects iris to go off to college on a fancy scholarship, but her mom gets sick and she stays on the island, doing her best to take care of her. she’s working almost full time at the men’s boutique, which is where she starts to see rafe more and more

the pair strike up an odd relationship - they’re amicable but never too friendly. she just views rafe as an old (overly classist and rude) classmate, but to rafe’s chagrin, he begins to develop a small crush on her

her role in the first season is almost adjacent to the rest of the pogues, with her not doing much as part of the main plot until midsummers. rose hired her to attend the party and supervise wheezie the whole night, so that’s what she’s doing until jj runs into her. as she watches him being chased, she follows the boys down the hall only to see the kooks beating on jj. rafe is surprised that he finds himself ashamed of her seeing him acting like this,

“Come on Iris, get out of here! You don’t need to watch this shit!”

“Let him go, Rafe! What the hell!”

rafe also finds himself gawking at the sight of iris all dressed up, unable to tear his eyes away from her

after that debacle, she’s joining the pogues at the lighthouse once wheezie goes to bed, sighing when she hears of their antics. they don’t ask her to help them, but she tells them to let her know if they have any clues they need solving - she misses using her brain

there’s a scene between iris and rafe once he’s been kicked out, with iris going to barry’s trailer to buy painkillers for her mom. he’s all pathetic and desperate but he doesn’t want her to see him that way, lying that he left home. she doesn’t believe him, but the pair share somewhat of a moment before she goes,

“Stay safe, Rafe… he shouldn’t treat you like that,”

“What?”

“Your dad. He’s not right about you, I can tell. Don’t let him get to you,”

she’s 100% with the pogues when they go to pawn off the gold, jj claiming that she is a good negotiator and they need her skills. barry curses to himself when he notices she’s with them as he holds the group hostage, knowing she’s too good to be stuck in this situation

barry and iris have struck up some sort of weird friendship over the years. they've definitely smoked weed together more than once

when barry rants to rafe about the hold up, he doesn’t notice the way rafe tenses up at the idea of her (and his sister) being hurt

she’s not there on the tarmac when rafe shoots peterkin, but he does come across her at the boutique when he’s hunting john b down. iris hadn’t been told anything by the pogues yet though, so she talks with him as normal, stating that the younger boy couldn’t have murdered the sheriff. she's known him for years

rafe tells her to stay safe and watch out, hoping somehow that she won’t get caught up in all of the drama. he even demands her phone, putting his number in it for her to call if she needs help

“Just, y’know, reach out if something doesn’t feel right, ‘k?

she does use her car to drive the pogues to the warehouse upon request from jj to help get the phantom ready, only for the group to be intercepted by rafe and barry. it’s there she learns that it was in fact rafe who shot the sheriff, and he doesn’t take her reaction well

she’s shocked and horrified, staring at rafe frightened, trying to stay far away from him. he doesn’t notice the concern that filters through her expression, her knowing that there’s more to this story. she knew rafe - not well, but enough to know he wasn’t eagerly and ruthlessly murdering people

she’s still frozen and staying far away until he’s beating her friends once more. only then does she try and pull him off of them, but she doesn’t stop pope from hitting him

rafe is losing his grip as he realises iris has left with the pogues, and probably hates him now. he finally had found someone he thought understood him, and now she had been poisoned against him

iris ends up at the tent with the younger pogues, watching hopelessly as sarah and john b drive into the storm. it's her and jj who console each other as kiara and pope cry with their families. jj has always felt like her little brother, and so iris and jj cry against each other

season one: behind the scenes

season 1 has drew and obx actress!reader living in the same building, next door to each other, for the duration of filming. it’s covid times and so the cast spend a lot of time together, resulting in strong bonds

from the start, it’s clear that she and drew just mesh well together. obx actress!reader and madelyn cline are immediately best friends, and the three of them hang out together everyday. those ig lives are literally just the three of them chit-chatting and talking about everything and nothing, but it’s where fans first start to think drew and obx actress!reader would be cute together

drew constantly features in her instagram stories, and once they can all go out again, all the fan pics posted have the two sat next to each or walking side by side (literally always to be point where it can’t be a coincidence anymore)

the fans don’t appreciate that drew hasn’t reached his peak hotness yet (which is criminal bc he was so hot in season 1), and so a lot of fans ship obx actress!reader with rudy for a while

drew doesn’t want to acknowledge he’s somewhat jealous, but it’s simmering under the surface

the pair don’t share any actual romantic scenes in season 1, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing a tipsy kiss one night at a bar for jd’s birthday. they both really liked it, but pretend that it didn’t happen so as not to ruin their friendship

there’s an absolutely iconic pic of drew and obx actress!reader dressed up for midsummers, posed together like a couple going to prom, and fans still share it at the time of season 4

ya know that short concept film that rudy, drew and elaine did? miss girl obx actress!reader had to do her best not to drool over drew as he filmed that. she helped out with some of the scenes and was barely holding it together at the sight of his biceps

obx actress!reader is 100% the driving force behind the greasy bangs. drew mentions he needs a haircut and so she does it in her apartment bathroom for him, demanding he let her style it too. she had a vision and once she saw it come to life, she sent a pic to the directors and suggested it as rafe’s new look for the second season

drew took obx actress!reader back to his home for the holidays too, not wanting her to be stuck in charleston alone. she spends the time with him and his sisters, hanging out and by the time the pair leave back to resume filming, she has the whole family on instagram and they're all planning to catch up again. his parents love her and invite her to come back with him next time too

the pair go to the gym together too, helping and spotting for each other. obx actress!reader deeply enjoys watching drew get more buff

they do a few interviews together with the rest of the cast after season 1 airs and even there, the cameras pick up on the flirty vibes. soon, their chemistry has fans spiralling and everyone is so eager to see them in season 2

ps. this is the style of photo they post for the bts midsummers photo

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts

“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)

“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 

“You look so hot like that.”

“God, you turn me on so much.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)

Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.

“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”

“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)

“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)

“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 

“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 

Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 

Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 

“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”

“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)

“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 

“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)

Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.

Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.

Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 

“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 

“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 

“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 

“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 

Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 

Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)

“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”

“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.

“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.

Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.

Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.

Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 

Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  

[jihoonjuseyo]

hi! this is my first time sending a request 👉👈

When I saw your icon, I immediately thought of a request about being cat parents with woozi! 🐈

literally so cute omg— thank you for requesting!! i’m so honored, and i’m glad i could get this to you quickly! i was just about to change my entire blog appearance but this cat is sort of signature for me ;u; also… i just love the pet-parent aus.

cw: domestic fluff

“she looks like you already,” you’d half-giggle to yourself, your hand coming up to partially cover your smile with your fingers.

you remember it vividly, the first time jihoon met your little kitten. he went in, determined to find the perfect soul-cat that would suit your dynamic well at your shared home. of course you wanted a cat - hell, it your your idea! but aside from what you expected, jihoon didn’t object. he loved pets, just never had the time or space for one. now, he had you to help.

when the kitten came to the view of jihoon’s dark eyes, you didn’t have a chance to speak before he murmured, “this one.” he chose the tired kitten, the one stretched out on its back and refusing to wake as you whispered through the glass

the first few weeks were a train wreck. jihoon thought it would be low maintenance. litter box, cat bowls, beds, toys, a cat tree, stimulation toys - but nobody warned him about the constant scratching on everything but what was meant to be scratched. they also didn’t warn him about the zoomies in the middle of the night. he remembers it clearly, and he thinks about it every night, the time he slept peacefully with you curled towards him, buried in his chest.

it was like an eruption happened in your sleep, the feel of something hitting and bouncing off of your scalps. jihoon would be quick to react, hand holding you down protectively as he rose up in a defensive manner, only to see the cat sprint out of the room.

“what happened?” you’d whine, desperate to lie back down.

“your daughter,” jihoon grumbled, rolling over onto his side and tucking a leg between the two of yours, curling you as close as possible. it took him a solid five minutes to relax before he could sleep again.

the most important, nobody told him how much attention a cat needed. he could hardly eat without the new addition to the family brushing her tail under his nose, he couldn’t leave his laptop open in fear of the cat treading over it and messing things up. he certainly fought to keep the cat from scratching on the bathroom door when he just needed some privacy!

but you saw the other side of things. it was the slight smile he wore when the cat jumped on his legs at the table, something that would annoy others, and flick his nose with her tail before running off. “damn cat,” he’d half-heartedly complain. he knew he loved her.

you always noticed how flustered jihoon would get when he’d get caught being upset that the feline wasn’t following him from room to room. “she followed me all day yesterday.”

“she doesn’t appreciate what she has today,” you’d reply back.

“you’re right. i hope she doesn’t expect attention for the next few days.” as he walks back to his bedroom, you’d see him snatch the cat up from the back of the couch and carry her like a baby to the bedroom with him. so much for that.

the peaceful days were a treasure to jihoon. the mornings where he could wake up with you, bodies chilly from the cool air in the apartment. he’d hear the purring between your bodies and see the perfect little loaf, eyes closed and breathing soft. he blinked, wondering if he’s imagining the smile on her mouth.

and how sweet it was, when jihoon walked into the apartment one day to find you sweeping up a broken bowl, sauce and remanence of your lunch smeared to the floor. “shit- baby, be careful. let me do that,” he’d say, carefully walking to take the dustpan from you. “are you okay?” he’d ask over his shoulder at you. “what happened?”

he watched you pout, folding your arms as you shot a glare to the cat in the middle of the living area, sitting so sweetly and swaying her tail.

“your daughter.” you’d say back to jihoon with a mocking smile, before you watched his lips curl up slightly, his gaze going back to the cleaning project at hand.

“our daughter.” he corrected. “she can’t just be mine when she makes you upset.”

“she can’t just be mine when she does parkour and fifty somersaults on your face while you sleep.” you quickly responded, eyebrows raising as if to challenge him though he couldn’t see you.

you could hear him though, the little laugh he let out as he discarded some of the glass into a plastic bag. “aw, love,” he’d turn around, setting the plastic bag on the ground momentarily to pull your waist close to his, kissing your forehead. “is it good for our daughter to see us go back and forth like this?”

he watched your cheeks turn a darker shade, your eyes glancing towards the cat now licking her paw and cleaning her face. when you looked back at jihoon, you saw that he had you trapped in response. “…. you can have full custody-“

“stop,” he groaned, interrupting you and your pout over your spilled lunch.

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

********************************************

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

[csprint]

Can you write SVT members you think would jump in a fight with/for you? Who’s getting their ass beat and who’s not helping?!

Thx.

kookinglikeachef: With all of the bickering and unserious fighting they do, I expect them to turn into MMA fighters for you. This is all jokes!!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Definitely jumping in:

Seungcheol

Is always ready to square up when it comes to you. Will not let anyone lay a single fingernail on you. In fact, you can’t even help. He’d shut your ass up and tell you to go somewhere while he handled the mf trying to put hands on his baby.

Joshua

Looks pretty and soft but he’s stomping bitches into the dust for you. K.O.’s left and right. Will not hesitate to fuck someone up. He’s a little unhinged.

Woozi

TRUST. HE IS DOGGING ANY AND EVERYBODY TRYING TO STEP TO YOU. Height is nothing cause at any time of the muthafkng day he’s never letting these heaux forget. PLAYTIME BEEN TF OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Getting your shit rocked together:

Jeonghan

Girl.. he brought his emotional support sword to the fight. Endearing but just take your L.

Jun

If he sees you losing, he’s going in like he Bruce Lee. Gives you a little advantage to get your two piece combo in. Both still walking away a little banged up but the aftercare and nursing each other’s wounds would be so good!

Hoshi

Makes sure you don’t get snuck. Ready to go to war to defend you when your hair is getting pulled and in return he’s getting flamed up as well. Tries to save your hair extensions and you’re both laughing about the situation afterwards.

Seungkwan

He’s probably the reason you’re in a fight because he looked at someone the wrong way. His strength is verbal (talking shit). I’m sorry but both of you got busted up.

Crying, shaking, and throwing up:

Dokyeom

Running around trying to stop people recording. Tries to calm you down but can’t even calm himself. So flustered and afraid you might hit him as well.

Mingyu

Pathetically on his knees begging you to stop. He doesn’t like when you’re angry and is trying to control his anger at the same time. Eventually grabs you and throws you over his shoulder as you continue to cuss the other person out.

Dino

Whether you’re beating ass or getting folded like an omelette, the fight has ruined him. He’s got nothing left. He’s drained. Mentally, emotionally, and dehydrated from crying. There aren't any words. His hands are fucking shaking. He needs to lie down.

Not helping at all:

Wonwoo

Does not know what to do. Wondering if he should break up the fight but you’re handling your own. Would be too worried about you to ask why you were fighting in the first place. Takes care of any wounds you may have gotten.

Minghao

Please. Why are you embarrassing him?! Yes, he can wreck bitches but you’re being scowled at right now. He might just beat your ass when you finishing whooping the other person. Takes you home to meditate all that negativity away.

Vernon

Genuinely has no idea what’s going on. He’s just watching and recording in amusement. Every five seconds he’s yelling: “oh shit” when you get smacked up. Doesn’t realize it’s you who’s fighting until he tries calling you to tell you all about it and the ringing is coming from the person in a headlock. Immediately jumps in to pull you away and hides your face from anyone else who might be recording to save you from further embarrassment. You’re also very pissed at him, btw.

[itsjusthockey]

Flyers - Jamie Drysdale

I love him so much and I wish him all the success in the world

I’m also trying not to hate cutter gauthier

I hope you enjoy, I like this one

Request and talk to me, pls and thx

It’s late in the evening when the shrill ring of your phone cuts through the silence of your bedroom. You glance at the screen and see your boyfriend calling. It’s not a FaceTime, and it’s always a FaceTime, so you’re confused, and your heart skips a beat as you answer him.

“Hello?”

It’s silent on the other end, but you can hear him lightly breathing and shuffling around.

“Jame?”

Before he even utters a word, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. There is a reason he didn’t FaceTime, and there is a reason his usual warmth and cheer is replaced by a heavy silence. As the seconds tick by, you can sense his hesitation, and an unsettling sense unfolds in your stomach.

You hear him take a shaky inhale, hold it for a second, and then he breathes out.

“They traded me.”

His voice is raw, and it trembles with unusual vulnerability. In a single second, your heart shatters into a million pieces. Before you can even fully comprehend what he said, tears are pooling in your eyes, and your hand is clasping at your mouth.

“They what?” You ask.

“They just told me. I’m going to the flyers. They want me there tomorrow.”

Finally, the news settles in. Your boyfriend was traded. Jamie was fucking traded.

A million thoughts rush through your head. Jamie has to move. He has to leave Trevor. He has to pack up his entire life in a single night and fly across the country.

Silent tears are streaming down your face, and you realize you’ve stayed quiet for way too long. You also know you need to get a fucking grip. This isn’t about you, and you need to get your shit together because he needs you right now.

So, you take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.

“Are you okay?”

You hear him shuffling around again, probably packing up all his things. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and you patiently wait until he’s ready.

“I don’t know. It hasn’t really set in yet. Doesn���t feel real.”

A sharp pain thumps through your chest at his words. He continues.

“I’m trying not to feel anything, honestly. I’m trying not to think about everything I have here.” His voice breaks. “But it’s been my home, and I don’t want to leave.”

You finally hear him break, and you would pay any sum of money to be able to teleport to him now. It wrecks you that you can’t be there to hold him during this time. You can’t begin to imagine what he’s feeling. You know he’s thinking about everything that Anaheim has given him. You know he’s

recounting the countless memories made on and off the ice, the shared victories and losses, and the deep bonds formed with teammates.

“Jamie.” You start, then stop.

“Yeah?” He asks softly.

“This absolutely sucks, and I’m so so sorry.” You pause. “The ducks are the biggest idiots in the world, and they don’t deserve you.“

Jamie's breath catches on the other end; it’s a mixture of a chuckle and a sob escaping him. You smile a bit because your words seem to reach through the distance, a small lifeline in the whirlwind of emotions he’s currently facing. He takes a moment before responding.

“Thanks, babe. It means a lot to hear that right now.” He sighs again. “I just never expected this, you know? Everything’s changing so fast. I love it here, and it kills me that I won't be part of it anymore.”

You nod, even though he can't see it. It’s as if the very fabric of his life is unraveling, and you wish you could weave it back together. But all you can do is sit here and listen to him and try your best to be his anchor in the storm of uncertainty.

“I wish I were there with you, help you pack, give you a hug,” you say miserably.

“Me too. he admits, another sad sigh escaping him.

You sit there again for a couple of minutes, listening to him pack and offering your presence. You finally hear him close to the phone again, and he breaks the silence.

“I'm scared (Y/N). It’s a whole new team. I don't want to let anyone down, especially you,” he confesses.

You want to punch him. He knows better. Not once, ever, has Jamie let you down, and you sure as hell know that he never will.

“That's enough of that, Jame, you could never let me down. Nerves are normal, but I also know the player you are. You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back. Always.”

He lets out a quiet okay and quickly hangs up the phone. You’re confused for a brief moment before his FaceTime pops up. You answer in a heartbeat, and a wide smile takes over your features as you finally get to look at your boyfriend.

He looks tired, and his eyes are a bit red, but he has a soft smile, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

For the next couple of minutes, you talk it out. You discuss the logistics, the challenges that lie ahead, and the uncertainty of the future. You do your best to hype him up, and as the logistics conversation draws to a close, a somber calm settles over the two of you. You can finally sense a shift in his tone, a quiet acceptance mingled with some determination.

“We are gonna figure this out, won't we?” Jamie asks a trace of hope in his voice.

“Yes. Besides, I like the flyers. Way better than those losers in Anaheim,” you assure him.

Jamie chuckles a bit, and then a hilarious thought crosses your mind.

“Oh my god.” Panic laces your voice, and Jamie furrows his eyebrows.

“What?”

You start laughing, suddenly very happy.

“You’re gonna be with Gritty!”

You can’t help but roll over with laughter, knowing your shy-as-hell boyfriend is going to be on the team with the most infamous and chaotic mascot ever. You can’t even begin to explain how giddy this makes you, and Jamie lets out a small groan but begins laughing with you anyway.

After you settle down, wiping the new happy tears away, you smile a wide smile at him again.

“You know, I’m still on break. Maybe I should come down and be there for your first game?”

Just like that, your boyfriend is back, and the smile you’re so in love with takes over his features.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I can think of no better way to end my break than being with you.“ You beam at him. “Besides, I have to scope out the team. Let em know that they have a new hotshot player who has the hottest girlfriend ever.

He barks out another laugh at you, but you know he agrees one hundred percent with your statement.

“God, I love you,” he says, the words carrying the weight of the world.

“I love you too,” you respond, “This is honestly exciting, Jame. You have great things coming. I can feel it.”

[callumsluvr]

How would Rafe react to one of his little girls telling him that she has a bf after school one day

I feel like mama would thinks his reaction is funny

omg i think he’d have a heart attack 😭

i can see vivi coming to him at like 7, claiming that she has a boyfriend at school and they’re having a play date soon and she’s soooo excited!

and rafe just 😧😧 and momma, of course, already knew about this little boy and she set up the play date with his mom, who she plays tennis with at the club.

momma would just laugh when rafe grills vivienne for questions about this “oliver” kid 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (he’s 7)

vivi is just so excited all week to see her “boyfriend” and rafe cannot cope because why is she interested in boys all of the sudden?????

momma definitely has to calm him down because again, they’re 7, and rafe cannot bully a child.

*

rafe is in his office, watching summer play with her baby doll under his desk, when he hears you, vivi, lottie, and “oliver”(🙄🙄🙄🙄) come home after school.

he can hear the giggles of his two girls, and so can summer, because she immediately barrels out of the room to see her older sisters.

he can hear you giving them snacks and asking them about their days, so he decides to walk into the kitchen.

“hello.” he says, looking at all the kids, sitting on barstools around the kitchen counter, watching you plate some chicken nuggets, fries, and some veggies for them.

“hi daddy!” vivienne and charlotte say in unison.

“hi, mr. cameron. i’m oliver trafford.” the little boy speaks up from his place next to vivienne. he reminds rafe oddly of himself, always wanting to seem mature, especially to his fathers business partners.

“hello, oliver. ‘s nice to meet you.” rafe nods, walking over to you and kissing your temple.

*

after the playdate, vivienne and oliver stayed best friends. until they were 13, which is when oliver came to get vivienne to take her on a first date. rafe and you stood at the door, talking to oliver’s mom while oliver stood awkwardly beside her, desperately waiting for vivienne.

although oliver had spent so much time with the cameron’s in all their years of being friends, rafe still scared the shit out of him and he was never afraid to admit that.

after vivienne and oliver’s arcade date, the two became “official”, for what you could consider official at 13.

*

when vivienne turned 16, she was so excited to finally get her car.

it made babysitting so much easier and she could stay later, which made her more money.

the night that rafe had decided that oliver could officially never leave the family was when vivienne was coming home from babysitting late one night, and rafe, who could never sleep until any of the girls got home, got a call from vivienne.

“dad.” vivienne trembles, panicked

rafe immediately gets out of bed and begins to put on clothes, “viv? what is it?”

“dad i wrecked my car- i was- i was driving- and then all of the sudden- a deer just jumped out- and i-“ she cries, with vivienne, rafe can’t tell if she’s crying because she’s hurt, or because she feels guilty about hitting a deer, or crashing the car.

“viv, are you okay? are you hurt?” he asks, throwing on his shoes and moving to wake you up.

“no, i’m fine- i just- i pulled over to the side, the deer ran away- but the front of my car is-“ he can tell she’s shaking, and he doesn’t bother to wake you up, he’ll call you when he’s on the way back.

after rafe tells vivienne that he’ll be right there, and he looks at her phone location, he speeds there, not wanting to leave her alone in the dark at 12 am.

it’s not until he sees another set of headlights by your car that he realizes you’re not alone.

as rafe pulls up, he realizes that it’s the black range rover that oliver had also recently gotten for his 16th birthday.

rafe rolls his eyes and slams his truck door, walking to vivienne, who had just gotten out of the passenger side of the black car.

“dad.”

“hey- vivi, are you okay?” rafe says, walking towards her, and holding her shoulders to inspect her for marks

she nods, “i’m so sorry about the car- i wasn’t even going that fast-“

rafe shakes his head, “i don’t care about the car, vivi, that’s an easy fix, i promise. are you okay?”

she nods again, hugging him. “i’m sorry-“

she’s cut off by oliver getting out of his car.

rafe and vivienne look over while he speaks,

“mr. cameron, do you need my help with anything? i um- i can stay as long i need to.”

vivienne speaks up, “when i got off the phone with you, i called oliver, he lives in the neighborhood i was babysitting in, so i knew he’d be close, and i knew you didn’t want me to stand out here alone.”

rafe’s eyes flutter between the both of them and he reaches out to shake oliver’s hand, “you’re a good man. thank you for taking care of her.”

oliver shakes his hand back with wide eyes. he had never been complimented by rafe, ever.

*

once they had gotten viviennes car figured out, you had yelled at him for not telling him about vivienne until they were on the way back to the house, and they had followed oliver back to his house to make sure he got home okay.

rafe sat in the car with vivienne at a red light, looking over at her in the passenger seat.

“you know i like the kid, right? he’s uh- he’s a good kid.”

[alexanderwales]

I finished rewatching Death Note. I always forget how short anime is, with episodes that aren't much more than 20 minutes when you skip the intro/outro.

I hadn't remembered how much of a sniveling wreck LIght was at the end of the show. There's something about the ending that makes it feel like it was written and directed by a different person, not that Light wasn't always a little weird and pathetic, and not that the show didn't consistently go out of its way to let us know what a piece of shit he was (particularly his absolute lack of loyalty or empathy to anyone, even aside from the megalomania). But he takes the loss like a loser, snot dripping from his nose, voice cracking, begging, and it's so pathetic that I almost felt a little sorry for him.

I've always found the Death Note to be a very interesting prompt, one of those hooks that's so good I'd want to watch it even if it was bad. But in writing something like Death Note, the author has to make decisions about what to show and what not to show, and also make decisions about how they're going to portray the public at large.

There are two big things that stand out for me.

One is that we never get someone arguing against Kira. We get people who are actively trying to hunt him down, but they're mostly not stopping to say "this is why what he's doing is wrong" except a few lines about how he has a childish sense of justice, which is never expounded upon. Kira, on the other hand, we hear a lot from, not just the megalomaniac stuff, but the notion that criminals must be punished, that this is what people desire in their hearts. I get the strong sense that L does not actually care and just views this as an interesting puzzle for him to solve, but for everyone else it's largely left as an exercise to the viewer, and even then, there are moments when some of our task force members come dangerously close to endorsement.

To the extent the show has an answer, it's that (to quote Kanye West) no one man should have all that power, or that Kira has crossed a lot of lines, but no one argues in favor of rehabilitation or clemency or just fundamental humanity. Kira seems to largely be killing prisoners, who have already been sentenced, and are wards of the state, and he says "this is what people want deep down, they will give you the politically correct answer but they actually want the criminal class to be obliterate", which ... there's no character who actually voices any opposition to through the whole series. And I find that weird, because yes, the show has its own answers in terms of how it plays out, but in a show filled with people possessed of immense conviction, most of the people in opposition to Kira are just intellectuals who don't actually give a shit about the ideological question.

(The one big moment when it comes to a head, IMO, is when Soichiro Yagami refuses to write Mello's name entirely because of his principled objection to killing someone. I thought this was great, and I wish the show had more of it.)

The other big thing is that we don't really get a viewpoint of the criminals, with a few exceptions. One is the is Yotsuba group, who are killing people with the Death Note, and the second is the (somehow still functional) mafia that Mello hangs out with. There's also one other scene somewhere after L's death where we see a criminal begging with the police not to have his name written down, and that's about it.

The naive view here is that the show really does believe in Criminals as being a part The Other, a different sort of human being who walk among us. The criminal class are described as rotten and evil, they're shown as grotesque and with exaggerated features or bestial characteristics, and they're generally leering and impulsive. There is no consideration of their humanity.

There's a more nuanced take here, which is that we have a criminal as one of our main cast, Light Yagami, along with everyone else who takes on the Kira mantle. So what is the show saying about criminality through how it portrays them? And here ... I don't know. I kind of don't think that it views them as criminals in the same way? When we look at the ways that Light kills, I genuinely do think that the show thinks that this is different from the way that a capital-C Criminals kill. It's reactionary rather than criminal in and of itself, a response to the injustices of the world rather than being in the same class as those injustices. Light is narratively exempted, and Misa is to. Which isn't to say that I think the show thinks highly of Light, it clearly doesn't, especially in its ending, but I almost think that in the end it Others him too (and also has Teru Mikami drawn in particularly 'evil' style, like a creepy deviant gremlin).

So I enjoyed the rewatch, but there are things that sit a little oddly with me as far as the central themes go. There's probably some discourse I should read that's come out since I first watched it in ... 2010 or whenever, but I think I'll give that a skip.

[just-a-creep-babe]

X-Virus NSFW Headcanons

Commissioned by @lil-degen -- thank you so very much luv, I hope you enjoy ❣️❤️❣️

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Man’s a switch—and a proud one at that

He has absolutely no problem being submissive or dominant, on the giving or receiving end of things

Really, as long as his partner’s enjoying themselves, he can’t complain

Whether he’s on top or on bottom, there are two things he basically can’t go without; pain and dirty talk

In fact, he almost never submits spontaneously because he much prefers being forced into submission—he wants his partner to be rough and dirty with him

He’ll often act like a major fucking brat just so that they have an excuse to be as cruel with him as they could possibly want to be

They can smack him around, spit on him, humiliate and degrade him, make that pretty boy beg until he’s on the verge of tears

It’s what he enjoys, it’s what he deserves

He will, however, also be returning the favor when it’s his partner’s turn~

If they’re comfortable with it, he’ll push them to the limits, just to test them, just to see how much punishment they can really take

And there’s something really intimate, really sensual about the way he experiments on his partner’s body

He’ll tease and toy with them to his heart’s content, only ever stopping if they use the safe word

He likes seeing how they react to various mixes of different sensations, so things like temperature play, wax play, breath play and bondage are usually involved

There’s almost nothing he isn’t down to try—he’s an experimentalist at heart~

He enjoys overstimulating his partner, but he’d personally rather be teased and denied for himself

Not that he has anything against overstimulation, either~

In terms of size, he’s quite proud of what he’s packing

He’s a tad thicker than average, but his length is enough to merit him being the cocky lil shit he usually is

He also has Jacob’s ladder piercings up the underside of his shaft which, combined with the slight angle of his cock, is enough to make anyone utterly weak

He’s also so damn good with his mouth, it’s actually unfair

It's like he always knows just what to do and where to put that tongue piercing to absolutely wreck his poor little partner

And honestly, one of his absolute favorite things is face-sitting

Doesn’t matter if he’s in a dominant or submissive mood—he’ll either want his partner to absolutely suffocate him between their thighs to shut his bratty mouth, or he’ll tongue-fuck them until they’re shaking and crying in his bruising grasp

His libido is slightly higher than average, but it skyrockets when he’s with a partner he really likes

Like, if he’s on his own, he’ll jerk off a few times a week—sometimes because he’s horny, but sometimes just because he’s bored or stressed from work

But if he’s with his partner, he’ll almost always be down to fuck

It's easy to tell he's in the mood because he gets extra touchy, extra flirty

He likes seeing his s/o get all flustered, all hot and bothered from his suggestive looks and lingering touches

In terms of session length, he prefers taking his time

He wants the luxury of driving his partner to their absolute limit, and while he could get that done fairly quickly and easily, especially with that damn tongue, he just loves making it last hours on end

But because he’s so consistently busy, he knows that’s not always an option, so he definitely has nothing against quickies, either

And he absolutely adores being risky, so pinning his partner against a tree, out in the open, is most certainly a recurring experience~

Only if his partner’s down though, of course

Because despite everything, despite his sadistic side and his extremely ambiguous morals, he’s not a shitbag and will respect every limit his s/o establishes

And because he does a lot of experimental kinky shit, he’ll have a bunch of safewords to practice that ✨safe sex✨

Overall, the guy’s hot and he knows it—and he will use that to his advantage

He always knows just how to make his s/o swoon, and then he can and will fully satiate them in bed afterward ;)

[hotdamnhunnam]

hey babes- i want your headcanon on something, if you’re down?

INCOMING-

I was thinking about what Charlie’s like in bed (as one does), and thought- I wonder if he’s into women being vocal? Like is it a passing thought? Or does he actively try to pull every sound out of you that he can?

And what about jax? And Will? AND Raymond?! I imagine there’s a common thread among them, but also, what would they each have a particularly soft spot for?

I would love to hear your thoughts!!!

Ohhh girl I am so down!!! 🙂‍↕️

I feel like Charlie is definitely into his woman being vocal when he takes her to pound town!! That man is NOT fucking around 🙂‍↔️ (or maybe he is, but you know what I mean by this 😆)

He’s so expressive and in tune with his emotions and I think he carries that into the bedroom too, and craves the same from you… whether it’s moans and groans and grunts, or using words to praise the ways he fills your cunt… damn he enjoys you showing him and telling him just how divine it feels when he destroys you with his cock because it’s everything that you could ever want.

And there is no doubt in my mind that the above applies to every one of his characters too!!! Sooooo since you asked about a few…

………………………………

Jax

He has a particular kink, for ravaging you so good that you can’t form words or even fucking think. And then because he’s such an evil pussy-killer bastard he will taunt you as he breaks your brain and takes it past the brink — he’ll be all use your words, darlin’ when he knows full well that you’re physically incapable of such a thing. You’ll whine and whimper like a nasty little whore, and that’s exactly what he lives for, and the worst best part is that he’ll make you say you’re sorry for being such a stupid cockslut who can’t even take an order from your fucking sex god king.

………………………………

Will

The captain has a kink for control. Not only for the way that he so completely controls your whole body and soul and all three of your holes — but more importantly for self-control. Restraint and discipline and mastery of basic human instincts. These are his biggest kinks. He’s mastered this himself and thinks it’s critical that you master it too, especially because it’s dangerous how you have no limits when it cums to all the kinky shit you’d let your captain do. So all the while as he’s wrecking you he wants you to be self-aware and careful and vocal. The signals don’t have to be verbal but they do have to be clear, straight from your lips to his ear, so that he always knows just when you’re ready for him to take things to the next level of making you his personal fuckhole.

………………………………

Ray

This bearded, bespectacled, revered and respectable gentleman is nothing if not nonchalant. Once you’re his woman he’ll most likely be reluctant in the bedroom to admit that there are certain things he really really wants. Does his debonair dick get rock hard when you scream like a mad bitch in heat as he rails your wet cunt? When you pornographically beg him to cum in that cunt do those words make him burst at his buttoned-up seams all at once? Yes and yes. But he’ll never confess. So sometimes when you need him and desperately plead him for sex he’ll just stand there and stay fully dressed, keep on casually sipping his tea and say feel free to talk. Thankfully it will be plain to see how turned on he is once you get down on your knees for his cock.

………………………………

And that’s all really! lol thanks for the ask bb 😘

[phattiepheeder]

I posted on Reddit but I’m curious about a Mukbang aftermath shit

I’ve been thinking about these creators that stuff for the camera, or do mukbangs and eat an astonishing amount of food. Or feedees who are constantly being fed and you see their swollen tight bellies after. These girls with huge bellies and probably an insane capacity to fill themselves eating 15 burgers or 20 burritos or 10lbs of spicy noodles.

But I never see any videos of the aftermath after taking in thousands of calories of dense and fattening and greasy food. Their bloated overpacked bowels struggling to empty in time so that they can continue to eat and digest the neverending onslaught of food. I just know they’re shitting a mountain, clogging toilets. Those that have gainer shake after gainer shake (read about a gainer who had 12 in a row through a funnel) must have the most explosive, sloppy , muddy shits. I can just imagine how their relief is short lived as they quickly refill their bellies. And their feeders must be hearing their loud frequent bathroom trips, already preparing their feeder’s next fattening gut wrecking meal.

I’m saying this because my ex-bf was a feeder and also into scat. Though I’ve lost all the weight for my health, during our relationship he helped me pack on 55lbs in 6months by stuffing me. I loved eating for him and he loved watching me take enormous shits after our feeding sessions, multiple times a day due to all the stuffing.

For those 6 months, my guts were being assaulted daily with thousands of calories. Some days he’s feed me so much, 10k calories. I’d shit 4-5x and still feel like I had more to unload, each time with a huge pile. Our plunger was working overtime so we ended up designating a bucket for me to empty into after feedings.

Sometimes after a heavy day of eating particularly greasy food, I’d empty a huge load of greasy sludge two or three times, and still my guts would be such a mess that I couldn’t leave our place without fear of having an accident. And they were the greasy kind of shits where they’d leave skid marks even after the powerful flush of a public toilet. My farts were often wet and we always needed to be close to a bathroom or have extra panties in the car. I’d just always feel like I had a stomach ache and either needed to fart or destroy a toilet.

The gainer shakes were the worst on my system. They were so yummy and made my ass get so plump and juicy , and my belly so doughy. Plus they’d go down easy when I was already stuffed. But they gave me such bad diarrhea I needed to bare down on my slop bucket with all my weight , hole spraying against the sides of the bucket. The pressure behind it was so intense that I’d get up with a circle of liquid in my ass..

For my gainer shake days, I’d sit my bare ass in the bucket while my ex fed me , knowing that shortly after I’d have to empty myself again anyways. Gainer shake in via funnel, and emptied half an hour later desperately in the same spot. I’d already have another wave of slop screaming at me for release, so as soon as I’d wipe, I’d already need to slap my fat ass back on the bucket and unleash.

Another thing we’d do is stuff me for a few days with the help of anti diarrhea meds until I was absolutely packed solid with shit. Then I’d take a stool softener to ease the turd out without ripping me in two and I’d relieve my hugely swollen gut. When my poor hole couldn’t stop desperately trying to get rid of all that waste, He’d have me on all fours with a trough in front of me and the bucket behind me so that I could refill myself as my puffy sore asshole kept sputtering wet farts and emptying. Then when my trough was empty and the bucket was full he’d refill my trough and empty the bucket and put them back in place. And it was always filled again.

Anyways, the relationship ended but it made me think of all of these feedees and if they shit as much as I used to. Or more.

[notsunnyowo]

Prom Dress

Gojo Satoru graduation party headcanon :>

Content: Just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Female Reader (AFAB)

Word Count: 606

"Satoru!! We're going to be late!" You called out to your date.

"Just give me five more minutes to finish up and I'll be right down!" You heard Gojo's voice coming from his dorm room.

"You said that fifteen minutes ago man!" You reprimanded. "My feet are killing me!"

The schoolyear had finally ended and you were over the moon with excitement. You had finally graduated from Jujutsu High and were now a full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer!

As the last day you'd be spending in the school, all your classmates, correction, every student currently attending the school had gotten together to organize a graduation party for your class.

You could hear the upbeat music coming from outside. I bet everyone's having a blast out there.. You thought. You, too were supposed to be out there, having the time of your life with all your friends, but instead you were stuck waiting for your best friend and current date - Gojo Satoru.

"That's it- If you don't come out this instant I'm going without you Satoru!"

No response.

"Alright then, I warned you." You said, turning around and taking a step forward, only to be stopped by the unmistakable sound of Gojo's room door opening.

"About time! If you'd made me wait even one more second I would've-" You paused, jaw almost dropping at the sight before you.

Is that..? N-No way.. It can't possibly be-

Standing right there in front of you was your best friend, yet you couldn't seem to believe it.

Since when did Satoru become this hot?!

"Y-You uh.. Look good. I mean- The suit looks good! On you, that is!. What is going on with me today..?!" Letting out an awkward laugh you clear your throat before suggesting. "Shall we go now? I'm sure the others are waiting for us."

"Yeah." Satoru gave you a soft smile, making your poor heart almost leap out of your chest. "Let's go."

He took his arm out, gesturing for you to take it, and once you did, the two of you began walking down the hall in silence. You didn't dare to say a word, especially not after what just happened a few minutes ago.

What had even gotten into you back there? Why did you begin stuttering like a nervous wreck in front of Satoru? It wasn't like you to get nervous like that, especially not when it came to Gojo, your best friend of nearly four years!

You glanced at him, heart skipping a beat while doing so.

I always knew he had a good looking face.. But I never realized how handsome he actually was..

It didn't take long for Satoru to take notice of your staring and look back at you. His crystal-blue eyes locked with your own. Looking into them felt like gazing deep into a vast ocean.

His previously soft smile quickly morphed into his signature shit-eating grin as he then stated. "(Name), you're staring."

Feeling the heat rushing to your checks, you immediately looked away, hastily uttering out an apology to the boy.

"Sorry about that.."

"S'fine." Satoru replied. "If I were you I'd also get lost looking into my eyes. Since they are breathtaking."

His comment made you chuckle, instantly lightening the mood.

"Yeah, they really are beautiful."

This time, it was Satoru who went quiet and you instantly looked at him, afraid to have done something wrong, only to be met with Gojo's flushed checks.

Were you seeing things or was the Gojo Satoru blushing right now? It sure was!

It took the boy a moment to compose himself before turning to you and saying.

"You look beautiful tonight."

A/N: I was scrolling trough Tumblr when I saw these pictures of Gojo and knew I had to write something about them. And so- Here we are :'D

Hope you all enjoyed reading! <3

[dulc3vida]

puppy!reader

girl next door, mom owns a bakery with heyward level success (doing alright, but not as successful as the wreck). her house was always the spot for the pogues growing up bc her mom always fed them and looked out for them. her mom is a curandera (folk healer) and always has someone in the house picking up some remedy she concocted or getting their stomach massaged to help digestion. during the summer, pup is on the beach with her lil cart selling cups of fruit and she also offers palm readings on the side.

john b is puppys best pairing bc they're both such lovers. like pup just oozes affection, its in her name. all of pups friends expect a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a "i haven't seen you in sooooo long" when really its been a few hours. she greets john b with a million kisses all over his face and he eats that shit up every time. john b loves a lazy sunday with her where he can share the hammock with her head on his chest, listening to her read his palm.

"tell me again, whats that one mean?"

"that's your lifeline." she traces her finger over the line on his hand. "it's deep and long which means you're gonna live a long life." she unknowingly soothes john bs anxiety over an untimely death. (lets be real, that boy doesn't see himself making it to 30).

they also make a good match bc they balance each others energies. john b grew up around masculine energy so being around you was his only time to be soft and you didn't know your dad so you benefited from the stability of john bs friendship your whole life.

our resident woo woo girl is always going on and on about the power of the tongue. pope could be giving some real ass advice about the stupid shit they're gonna do and she disregards most of it because it's pessimistic.

"all i'm saying is that your positive affirmations aren't gonna keep the cops from recognizing our faces on cameras and arresting our asses. i mean we let jj plan this, he's gonna get himself shot." pope is looking at this mission from every angle, trying to cover everyones asses.

pup rolls her eyes. "and all I'M saying is that you're being really negative right now. if you keep speaking 'we're not gonna make it and jj is gonna get shot' into the universe, then we're not gonna make it and jj will get shot-"

"you speaking that shit into the universe pope? i thought we were friends what the fuck?" jjs offended voice came from the side of pope.

"we need to look at our solutions and not our problems." pup scurries into the chateau and comes back with a box of beanies she knitted for john b. "see, solutions. no one will see our faces."

"to find a solution you have to look at the- nevermind." pope shakes his head when he sees john b petting pups hair and kissing her forehead telling her how smart she is.

OH! and pup loves to knit and crochet. she makes a lot of her own clothes and stuff, even had a bikini unravel on her in the ocean which prompted a rescue mission and a stern (maybe a smidge condescending) talking to from john b.

"what did i tell you, huh?" john b is staring down at her wrapped up in his shirt, sitting in the sand not looking at him. he has his arms crossed and is staring down at her in that disappointed john b way.

"the top was gonna fall apart." pup pouted.

"and what happened?"

"it fell apart."

"you gonna listen to me the next time i say somethin's not ready?"

"mhm..." she looks up at him, unintentionally giving him puppy eyes because its just a natural response.

john b decides she had enough embarrassment for the day and takes a seat next to her, patting his thigh. "com'ere. not mad at ya. come to daddy." and pup crawls into his lap to watch the sunset.

[puck-luck]

There’s not enough Dawson fics on here and I feel like you’re my dealer lol 😂 can I request a Dawson fic where he’s all riled up after that last game with the rangers (ya know where he was in the fight but not the line brawl?) and as soon as he sees his girl he lets out all that energy? Like maybe they don’t even get to the apartment and they get that car rockin 👀

(His fight in that game just isn’t talked about enough)

warnings: semi-public sex (locker room), oral (m!receiving) pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader summary: (see above) wc: 1174

You know that the locker room is a sacred space for the players. You’ve seen other WAGs enter, but you’d never dared to enter the room until now. You had never really wanted to go in the locker room anyway, since it’s smelly and an entirely-too-masculine type of messy. 

However– Dawson was ejected for the rest of the first period for fighting Will Cuylle. Your boyfriend, who is usually the kind to trade legal hits with players, was ejected for fighting. It’s abnormal behavior for him and you need to know what’s going on– what’s wrong.

“Dawsy, baby, what happened out there?” You ask, knocking softly on the doorframe of the locker room. You peek around into the dressing area, seeing your boyfriend sitting half-dressed in front of his locker. His head is in his hands and he only looks up once you speak.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head because he knows his response isn’t good enough. “Just got frustrated,” he grumbles. “First Ruff is fired, which is hard because it was the middle of the fucking season. We can barely fucking function with a head coach, but we’re a wreck without a proper coaching staff. We’ve got too many fucking injuries on the team right now, too, and then we have to play the Rangers? We fucking hate those guys and they hate us. This game is shit.”

“Babe,” you say, frowning. “You can’t think like that. You won’t win like that.”

Dawson sounds a little hysterical with anger when he replies to you. “I don’t really give a shit about winning right now.”

His tone strikes you at first, sparking frustration of your own, but you’ve always been a more level-headed person. You tilt your head to the side and look at Dawson, saying nothing. 

He turns his palms up and gestures helplessly at you. “I’m just–”

“I know, honey,” you murmur. You sink down to sit next to him, touching his jawline gently. “You’re having a hard game.”

Dawson melts into your touch, groaning lowly. You can feel that he’s disappointed with himself, but also with the game in general.

“Where are the other ejectees?” You ask, making light of the moment.

“Up in the box, watching in their suits with plenty of food and drink,” Dawson tells you, pouting slightly. “I want to go back on the ice, but I wouldn’t complain if I got to go upstairs and hang out for the rest of the night.”

“Well, baby, you know they’ll be doing sprints tomorrow to make up for the shifts they missed,” you say. “Be glad you don’t have to do that.”

“Mhm,” Dawson hums. He takes your hand and squeezes it.

After a beat of silence, you bite your lip. “So, we’re alone in the locker room.”

“Mhm,” Dawson hums again.

A smile creeps across your face. “Take your pants off.”

Dawson perks up, looking at you with a surprised blink. 

You continue. “Dawsy, chop-chop. You know how we handle your frustration at home. We’re all alone in the locker room. Take your pants off.”

“Can’t believe you’re going to make me dress for the game all over again,” Dawson teases, but he’s already unlacing the padded shorts and shifting them down. 

He gives you just enough room to work with. You’re able to pull him out of his underwear, albeit hindered a little bit by his cup. He’s sweaty from the game so far. You can smell it on him, which sucks because he stinks but is wonderful because he feels just that much more turned on by this. 

The head of his cock is salty in your mouth. It takes one purse of your lips around his cock for Dawson’s hand to find the hair on the back of your head. He gathers it into a bundle for him to hold onto, then starts to guide your movements.

You relax, widening your jaw as much as you can so that Dawson can fill your mouth the way he wants to. 

That’s the key part of this– he was frustrated, so he has to solve his problem. You’re just the conduit.

“Fuck, baby, so nice,” Dawson drawls. He pushes your head down, gagging you slightly before he lifts you up. “Love it when you take what I give you.”

You hum around his cock, gargling a little on your response. “Then give it to me.”

He definitely doesn’t understand what you said, but Dawson starts to drag you up and down his cock at a faster pace. You love how his thick fingers tug at the roots of your hair. His grip is tight and mind-numbing. The blurt of his precum over your tongue is like the first sip of a drink you’ve craved for hours. 

His cockhead nudges the back of your throat, triggering another constriction. He pulls back, then forces forward again. 

You look up at him, your eyelashes fluttering with each gag. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and you struggle to breathe through your nose, but you’re as perfect as a picture to Dawson. He’d do a lot of things, including getting ejected from the rest of the game, to keep you like this forever.

His pace increases over the next few minutes. You alternate from looking at the hair on his thighs to the sweat that beads along his hairline as he continues to fuck his cock into your mouth. His lips are parted slightly and his breath grows ragged, the telltale sign that he’s close.

With one look at the clock above the door, Dawson knows he needs to finish soon. With your perfect lips around his cock, that isn’t hard to do. 

You simply lather your tongue on the underside of Dawson’s length, tracing the veins there in a ticklish way. It has Dawson’s hips jumping into your heat. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust and he holds you close. Even though it’s impacting your breath and making you lightheaded, you stay. The proximity is making you a little wet, too.

Dawson comes down your throat with only a few minutes to spare before the period ends. It gives him enough time to pull his gear back on and cover himself, to smooth your hair out of your face and run his fingers through it like that’s as good as a comb, and to plant one brief kiss on your lips before you have to sneak out of the room. The rest of the boys will be returning any minute. You’d hate to be caught in their sacred space.

You don’t have to ask Dawson if he’s feeling better– you can see the way his game improves once you’ve helped him release his frustration. The only proof of his frustration, other than the footage that was televised across the nation, lies in your stomach– swallowed down in a way Dawson aches to repeat after Chris Kreider scores in the last five minutes to defeat the Devils.

notes: the idea of being someone's fic dealer is so funny to me and i love it. i'll be y'all's dealer any day!

[albertasunrise]

Firm Friends - 1

Masterlist

Summary: After a bogus raid leads to the DEA duo getting ambushed. Steve see's a different side to his asshole partner.

Warnings: Angst, Blood and Injury, Hospitalisation, PTSD. (Please let me know if I have left any out)

Notes: With the help of the lovely @novemberrain-writes, I bring you my first proper angsty fic in what is probably a good few years. Probably going to be a 2 or 3 chapter fic. See how it goes 😘

Series Masterlist

Steve was fuming.

Javier had assured him that the lead was solid and dragged him out into the field away from his real work for what he had said was the best lead they had had in weeks.

What a hoax that had been.

They had arrived at the disclosed location, a sketchy-looking warehouse, and had been laughed at by the men dressed up like Escobar and his lackeys. Steve had fired a shot in anger at the portrait of Pablo hanging on the wall of the warehouseand stormed out in a fit of rage. He refused to get back in the Jeep with Javier on the way back, unable to even look his smug partner in the eyes. 

"He didn't know, Steve,” Carillo said as he took a toke of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the cracked open window of his car.

"He's getting sloppy,” Steve growled "Man has been here years! He should be able to tell the difference between a legit lead and bullshit. I think the drinking and the whoring around is starting to get to him.”  

"The information checked out,” the colonel defended and Murphy snorted in derision.

They were about ten minutes away from Carillo's base when they attacked. One moment, Javier's blue jeep was in front of them, and the next, it was on its roof, its wheels still spinning with the front end of an enemy vehicle smashed deep into its side.

“Fuck!" Steve yelled as Carillo's car screamed to a halt.

"On your right,” the colonel shouted as he leapt out of the door and took cover behind his vehicle.

Steve managed to clamber out of the driver's side, taking cover beside Carillo. Glancing over at Javier's truck, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his partner had managed to climb out of the wrecked truck on shakey legs and was now taking cover also, his gun in hand. His partner seemed sweaty, eyes wild with adrenaline.

"Peña's alive,” Murphy reported as he fired a shot over the bonnet of the colonel's vehicle.

“Good," Carillo replied as he took down 3 sicarios in one fell swoop.

Adrenaline was running high as Steve took out the men shooting at them from the roof of the houses opposite, glancing at Javier periodically to make sure the man was okay. His head was bleeding from a nasty wound on his head, his ear painted in the scarlet liquid. He otherwise looked okay. His gun was steady as he took shot after shot, taking down the animals that had attacked them out of nowhere. Steve had come to learn that Javier, despite his numerous shortcomings and failings, was always good in a crisis; calm and dependable on the outside. At least he had that quality about him.

"This was a trap,” Huffed Carillo as he reloaded his pistol.

"No shit,” Spat Steve as he took out two more sicarios, narrowly missing a bullet that bounced off the bonnet.

After what felt like hours but had probably been less than half of one, the shooting stopped. Steve let himself breathe a sigh of relief as his eyes scanned over the bodies of the men and teenagers who had been waiting to ambush them. It made the blonde agent sick to his stomach to see such young boys among the dead but, they had chosen to follow a monster. They knew what they were getting into.

Steve looked over at his partner whose back was turned. His shoulders appeared to be heaving, probably from the exertion. Steve found himself out of breath as the adrenaline from the firefight they had just survived wore off.

"Are you alright Peña?" he called out, his brows furrowing when the man didn't even twitch. "Javi?"

Suddenly, almost in slow motion, Javier crumbled to the floor. His head lolled to the side as his body settled on the tarmac, his arms and legs bent awkwardly beneath him, and Steve sprinted to his side, screaming his name as he dropped to his knees beside his downed partner. Gently, he shifted Javier's limp body so he was lying on his back. The agent's limbs jerked and twitched for a minute as his eyes moved restlessly beneath the lids like he was fighting to wake. Steve felt a weak hand grab his boot as Javier blindly reached out clumsily before his grip went lax.

"Peña... Peña... Can you hear me?" He panted as he checked over the agent's injuries "Javi, can you open your eyes for me?"

The agent went limp and didn't move a muscle. His expression slack as he lay there unconscious beside his totalled truck.

"CARILLO!" Steve screamed as he stabilized his partner's head, wincing at the deep gash that looked a little more severe now that he could get a better look at it. The colonel dropped to the younger agent's side, inspecting Peña's injuries before making a call over the radio for a medical evac.

"His head's bleeding bad,” Steve said as he pushed the hem of his floral button-up shirt against the steadily seeping wound.

"I think he has fractured his skull,” Carillo replied, his eyes locking with the agents a moment before lifting Javier's shirt and spotting fresh bruises "And he's bleeding internally.” 

"We need to get him to a fucking hospital,” growled Steve as he looked around at their surroundings before glancing at Carillo's truck "Help me get him in the car."

"We can't move him, Steve." Carillo warned and Murphy growled in frustration.

"He's dying, man." Murphy growled, slightly lifting Peña's eyelids to check his pupils. They were both dilated to different sizes, confirming the severe head injury. Almost as soon as Steve had settled Javier comfortably and supportively in his arms so as not to exacerbate the head injury, the man started to gasp desperately, blood splattering his lips as they began to take on a startling shade of blue and his nostrils flared.

“Shit,” Steve cursed.

Javier's chest heaved rapidly as his body fought for oxygen. His breathing skipped and stuttered while his injured lung continued to fill with blood. He was slipping away right in Steve's hands.

"Lung's punctured,” Carillo stated before demanding an ETA through his radio. “Try to prop him up a bit. It might help,” he directed Steve, who obeyed numbly. 

Steve could feel the mounting stress and guilt press down on him like a ton of bricks. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him as he knelt dumbly on the pavement beside his dying partner. His mouth felt dry and he tasted bile.

Carefully, he cradled Javier's bleeding head in his hands, wishing he would open his eyes.

"Javi? Javi, listen to me please," he found himself begging. "You hang on ok? I need you to hang on. Ambulance is almost here and you'll be fine. Just...just..." Steve felt his voice crack as his emotions got the better of him.

The sound of sirens filled the air just a few minutes later.

Steve paced the waiting room, his thumbnail bitten so badly it bled. Carillo had been by to inform him that Javier was in surgery and would be some time before they had any news. Steve simply asked if he could call his wife and let her know he probably wouldn't be home.

His mind kept going over what he had seen. Javier lying there white as paper but for the blood that had coated the right-hand side of his face. The unnatural shade of blue his lips had turned. How the EMTs had worked frantically to stabilize him before loading him into the ambulance, shooing Steve when he tried to get in with him.

Steve hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from his partner while the medics cut open Javier's blood-stained button-up, exposing his chest and belly that was a mapping of darkening bruising; a tell-tale sign of internal trauma and severe bleeding. They were frantically rushing to get leads on him to monitor his vitals, inserting IVs and pushing liquids. Javier almost seemed like a corpse until his weak body jerked with a violent cough that brought up more blood.

Steve found himself in a fog, unable to comprehend anything as Carillo managed to pull him away from the ambulance.

"They need room to work,” Carillo had told him and Steve had simply nodded limply "We'll follow in my car."

Steve caught a glimpse of one of the medics wiping the blood from Javier's mouth and securing a plastic oxygen mask over his face before the doors closed.

He remembered what he had said to Javier when the agent had told him to get in the truck.

"I can't fucking stand to be around you right now, Peña,” he’d spat, venom dripping from every word "You have done nothing but waste my fucking time since I arrived."

Steve had seen the agent visibly wince at his words but at the time he had been so angry he hadn't cared. Now he hated the idea that the man might die thinking that Steve thought him a failure. He'd heard what Javier had been through in the years he'd spent here before Steve had arrived. He had been more or less going it alone, chasing lead after lead in the hope that he would finally catch Escobar. To say Peña had been relieved to get a partner was an understatement, even if he'd had a strange way of showing it.

"Steve?"

The familiar voice of his wife pulled him from his self-deprecating thoughts. He spun on his heels, practically sprinting to his wife, scooping her into his arms and sobbing into her neck.

She rubbed his back soothingly as he cried, placing a soft kiss on his temple when he started to pull away.

"What happened?"

"We were ambushed,” Steve choked "Javier's car was hit and then chaos."

Connie gasped. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as Steve regaled what had happened.

"Javier collapsed. Got a fractured skull and internal bleeding,” he continued "Carillo said it's bad... but they're doing everything they can."

"Shit... Steve, I'm sorry,” Connie said as she stroked the apple of his cheek with her thumb "You couldn't have known this would happen." She said, reading the guilt he felt on his face.

"I was an ass to him,” he replied, a tear escaping from his bloodshot eyes as he looked at his wife "The raid being a dud wasn't his fault and yet I blamed him. I basically called him a failure and he looked so hurt, Con. I can see how what I said affected him and I-"

"Steve stop,” His wife ordered, taking his face in her hands. "You're spiralling. What happened wasn't your fault. It wasn't Javi's fault. "It was Escobar's. Remember who your enemy is."

Steve nodded, knocking more tears free.

"Javi's going to be okay,” his wife reassured, sounding so positive that Steve believed her "He is strong and stubborn. Going to take more than this to take him out."

"You didn't see how bad he was Con, he-"

"He's going to be okay Steve,” she repeated, "I know he will."

"Okay." Steve said with a nod before crumbling in his wife's arms, praying that she was right.

.

Steve was starting to dose off on his wife's shoulder when Carillo entered again. His expression looked as exhausted as Steve's. Six hours had passed since he had last come in to update the agent on Javier going into surgery. He had been standing vigilant outside of the theatre, watching things unfold and keeping an eye on the doctors. Javier was a sitting duck in the hospital and he intended to keep his colleague and friend safe.

"How is he?" Connie asked, rousing Steve.

“Stable,” Carillo replied, scraping a hand over his face "They managed to stop the internal bleeding and they are going to observe him and his skull fracture for now, hopefully, he will not need surgery for it."

Steve nodded as he took in everything Carillo was saying. His body numb.

“He’s got a long road ahead of him. He’s been sedated and intubated and has a chest drain to treat the collapsed lung. They managed to get his internal bleeding under control. The doctor doesn’t want him on the vent for too long, though, so they are going to try to remove it in a day or two,” Carillo continued. 

"That's good." Connie said, giving Steve's arm a reassuring squeeze.

"He's not out of the woods but the man is strong,” the colonel stated firmly "He'll be okay."

"Can I go see him?" Steve asked and Carillo nodded, motioning for him and Connie to follow.

The colonel let them through the clinically blue halls, coming to a stop outside a faded veneer door, men posted on either side of it. Peering through its window, he could see Javier lying there with a thick tube jutting out between his lips. Whitetape held it in place, standing out against his tanned complexion. It was a relief to see his colour had somewhat returned.

"I'll be outside if you need anything,” said Carillo as he opened the door and motioned the Murphy's inside.

Steve hesitated when the door opened. He could see more clearly, all the equipment Javier had smothering him to keep him alive. His guilt threatened to consume him as bile rose in his throat.

"Steve?" The agent looked up at his wife who was now standing just inside of Peña's room, her hand outstretched to him "Come on."

He took the hand she offered and they stepped slowly towards his bed, studying him more closely. His head was bandaged, and his right eye had started to bruise. The tube looked huge close-up, sitting snug between his straight teeth. His partner didn’t seem real. This was merely a ghost of the cocky, often annoying man he knew. 

"Talk to him,” Connie urged, and Steve nodded, perching in the chair beside his bed. "They have him sedated, but things will filter through. He needs to know you’re here and that everything is okay.” 

"Hey, man,” he started, letting out a steadying breath as his emotions started to get the better of him "Listen, what I said to you, that I can't stand you, none of that was true." Letting out a long sigh, he leaned forward and placed his hand on Peña's, hoping it would bring the agent some modicum of comfort. "You need to get better, brother, so that I can buy you the most expensive whisky I can find to apologize for being such an ass."

He wished desperately that his partner would make some sort of movement save for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest from the ventilator but that was impossible. Javier was deep in some dreamless abyss from the drugs. 

Silence settled over the room. Just the clicks, whooshes and beeps of machinery could be heard for some time. Connie managed to get another chair and the couple sat at the agent's side, silently praying he'd be okay.

They had just started to drift off, the machines lulling them off, when Javier's heart monitor started to scream. The blood drained from Steve's face as he and Connie were dragged from the room, forced to watch Javier convulse limply with seizures through the blinds as the doctors swarmed him.

Steve couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks this time. 

Next

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