#not that I’m gonna be kicked out or anythin but

[anangelforsure]

When I am forced to remember that being trans is serious and like not all silly and fun 😔😔😔

[peachsukii]

✮ content. had a depressive episode yesterday and just whipped this up to feel better. a little selfshipy but is suitable for anyone 💕

“C’mere already,” Katsuki calls from his bed, arms outstretched as he lays on his back. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

You comply, stalking over from the doorway and crawling across the sheets into his embrace, face snug against his chest. He sighs into your hair, planting a few soft kisses onto the top of your head.

“Ya look like you needed some love, peach.”

It’s almost scary how well Katsuki can read your emotions. You hadn’t even told him that you were feeling down, he just knew by your mannerisms.

“How’d you know?” You ask sheepishly. You’d gotten to his apartment a few hours ago…how’d he read you so quickly? Well, it could have been that you showed up in sweatpants and his hoodie - your go-to comfort, low energy outfit.

“I just do. S'like a sixth sense.”

“That’s for ghosts, dummy,” you giggle while idly fiddling with the material of his shirt.

You can practically hear the grin in his reply. “Got ya ‘ta laugh, didn’t it?” He gives you a light squeeze and kisses your forehead.

How can two people be so connected? It often left you wondering how you’ve gotten so lucky to have someone like Katsuki around, let alone adore and love you with his entire being.

“Any dinner requests?” He asks, shaking you out of your train of thought. “Y’gotta be hungry, I haven’t seen ya eat all day.”

You pull back from his embrace and pinch his cheek, bringing your lips to his for a gentle kiss. “Oh, is Chef Bakugo taking requests now?”

“Not if you’re gonna heckle me about it. And it’s Chef Dynamight, get it right!” he retorts with a huff.

“Whatever you were gonna make, I’m fine with.”

Katsuki sits up, releasing you from his hold and scoots to the edge of the bed. He motions for you to follow him.

Once the two of you are in the kitchen, he grabs you by the waist and tugs you over to an empty section of the countertop. Effortlessly, he picks you up and sits you on the marble. Katsuki shimmies between your legs, one hand on each thigh as he graces you with a sweet smile - a rare sight.

“Ya don’t gotta do anythin’, sweets. Your job is to look pretty while I cook for you, ‘kay?” He gives you a quick peck on the lips and pats your thighs before turning toward the cabinet to grab his cutting board and spices.

For the next hour, you silently watch Katsuki prep dinner for the two of you. He’s decided to make a chicken curry, one of your favorites, all from scratch. He’s got the sauce simmering on the stove while cutting up the vegetables and potatoes. You’ve tucked your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees as you watch him in his element, bouncing between tasks without breaking his concentration. Before Katsuki tosses the peppers he’s cut into the pot, he pops a small piece into his mouth and offers you one as well. You take it from him without hesitation - he loves to have you taste test and sample anything involving his cooking, even if it’s just a simple bell pepper.

After another 15 minutes passes, the ding! of the rice maker signals that everything is ready to eat. You slide off the counter and skip over to grab plates when Katsuki scoops you up by the waist from behind, bunching the hoodie up your midsection.

“Oh no ya don’t! Sit your stubborn ass down an’ let me get it.”

You sigh in defeat, closing the cabinet as he whisks you out of the kitchen and plops you onto the couch in the living room. Within a few minutes, Katsuki reappears with two full plates of curry. He sets them both on the coffee table and turns to grab the blanket off the back of the couch, unfolding it to drape over your legs.

He does a double take around the room while grabbing the TV remote. “Need anythin’ else, baby?”

You shake your head, responding with a soft “no.”

Katsuki joins you under the blanket and hands you your plate from the table. He settles in next to you, turning on a mindless reality show before kicking his feet up on the table and leaning into you - blissfully sinking into the cushions.

“This shit is so fuckin’ stupid, but it’s fun to hear the wild commentary you do,” Katsuki quips with a laugh. “Like how the fuck do these people even breathe on their own?”

“Beats me, and yet they’re richer than we’ll ever be,” you joke, digging into your curry with a satisfying hum.

Katsuki kisses you on the cheek before returning to his curry, fascinated with the stupidity of the reality show. He knows you’re thankful, never expecting a verbal ‘thank you’ in times like these. Your smile and laugh, along with the return of the twinkle in your eyes, was enough for him.

💥 tags; @slayfics ✨

[twola]

just saw a post that said “missionary, so we can keep arguing” and i feel like you’d do that justice if you’re ever in the mood to write it lol xx

Oh holy shit. I’m now in the mood. Here’s a low honor Arthur secretly has feelings, but they are way WAY underneath. Also shoutout to @shootybangbang, who insisted on a few points to add to this.

Fortitude

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Next

“Who is it?!”

“It’s Arthur, idiot!”

His deep voice booms across the camp and the onion you were dicing suddenly becomes victim to very vigorous chopping. The knife slams on the butcher table loudly as you grit your teeth.

Mary Beth looks up at you with a curious stare. “Are you…alright?”

“Never better.” You mumble as you continue to chop at the onion.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, letting out a long breath.

“Oh, Arthur, how nice of you to return!” Dutch’s sarcastic reply echoes across the way as he moves to clap his hand across Arthur’s back in welcome. “Anythin’ good out there?” He hands Arthur a bottle of beer, and immediately Arthur begins to drink.

“Shoah. Plenty to keep me out there. Better than loungin’ around here.”

Dutch guffaws at the pointed comment.

You grit your teeth again as you pick up the next onion. Laughter surrounds the campfire for several moments as you continue to chop. Arthur slugs back the rest of his beer before tossing it to the ground. “Now if you don’t mind me, I have a lady to see.”

You try to ignore his heavy footsteps approaching.

“C’mon now, missy. Let’s get outta here fer the night.”

You pause a moment before placing the knife down. Mary Beth gives you a look as you sigh, wiping your hands on your skirts. You give her a mumbled farewell as you turn to Arthur.

He stands there, all six feet of the fearsome enforcer of the Van der Linde gang. Able to tear men limb from limb. Hand on his gunbelt, the brim of that old gambler’s had shading his eyes against the sunset. A beard showing weeks out on the land.

Damn him, damn him to hell. 

You take his outstretched hand and follow.

-

It’s not terribly far away from camp. Just far enough not to be bothered. He stops his horse in a small forested glen and swings off of the saddle, tying the mare to a tree branch.

“C’mon now, girl. You seem so pleased to see me.” Arthur grunts as he unloads his small tent from his saddle bag, turning and immediately starting to 

“Very pleased. Been waitin’ on you every night to come back.” You retort, sliding off of the rump of the horse and turning to unfasten the bedroll from his saddle.

“That’s more like it,” He smirks back at you as he pitches the tent, “Don’tchu worry, I’ll get you right.”

When he’s finished with the tent, you stoop down and roll out his bedroll on the ground within, climbing inside as the dusk falls. Arthur follows you, stooping to his knees at the entrance of the lean-to. He tosses his hat toward the back of the tent.

“Get on yer knees.” Arthur orders as he starts to undo the buttons of his workshirt.

“No,” you huff, sliding back on your bottom atop the bedroll. You start unlacing your boots and pull them off, chucking them toward the entrance of the tent.

“No?” Arthur’s eyebrow quirks as he rips his gunbelt off.

“I ain’t gonna let you treat me like some two-penny whore. You’re gonna at least have the decency to look me in the eye.” You rasp up at him as you start unlacing your dress.

He kicks his boots off smugly. There’s something ironic in the way the two of you are quickly shedding your clothes to the back and forth going on in the tent.

“Oh, too good to bend over but not to get on your back for me?”

You shimmy out of your dress and quickly pull your chemise over your head. He works his pants down with his drawers. 

“Too good for you to fuck me like I’m any other hole.” 

“We’ll see about that-” Arthur chuckles as he stands on his knees opposite you, completely nude, cock blood-swollen and bobbing with his movements. His hands grab at your hips, grasping those dainty bloomers you’ve taken to wearing and pulling them down your thighs, over your knees, and completely off, chucking them to the side.

He licks his lips, the bastard, at the sight of you on your back for him, naked in the waning hours of the day. And yet, here you are, angry but desperate to be wanted, you just want… a little something more.

Arthur spits in his hand, slathering it on his cock. Climbing atop you in his bedroll, you spread your legs for him. The head of his cock catches on the rim of your cunt and he pushes inside, growling as he does so.

A whine, desperate, claws its way out of your throat as you clench at his forearms at the feeling of several hot inches of him splitting your core, filling you fit to burst. It’s the pain on a knife’s edge that seems to placate the aggravation in your soul.

He’s not gentle - you know that, you’ve never expected him to be. He fucks like he works - with physicality and brute strength. 

He does, at the very least, stay buried within you for a moment, his hips shoved completely up against yours, all those hot, pulsing, hard inches of him having carved a blazing path through your core. He does, at the very least, give you that moment to accept him, grow used to him, before grabbing your hips and starting to buck against you mercilessly.

“You’re -hah- infuriating,” Arthur spits out, locking his elbows as he finds a rhythm of slamming his hips into yours, the slap of skin on skin loud within the tent. No wonder he dragged you away from camp.

“You’re a lowlife -ngh-” You are able to grit out as he tries to fuck you into submission. But you know this game, you know his game. He may be the feared enforcer of the gang, but you’re not some feeble woman willing to let him do with you what he wants.

“Ain’t too low for you to let me fuck you.” He growls, words interspersed with his thrusts.

“Ain’t the same gettin’ myself o-off.” You sputter as he slings your other thigh over his shoulder and slams his hips down on you to effectively cut you off. You cry out in surprise at the change in angle of his thrusts, loudly to the point he slaps his hand over your mouth as he moves above you.

You sink your teeth into the meat of his palm. He hisses, pulling his hand away quickly. He looks down on you with annoyance.

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman?”

You grit your teeth against the anger that has been eating at you this whole time.

“I missed you, asshole.”

Arthur stops, jaw unclenching, cock halfway sheathed in your warm cunt. He looks down at you, eyes wide, brow unfurling, and the fire in his gut subsiding.

“Ain’t you ever think when you’re out for weeks at a time that you got someone to come home to?” You scowl up at him as he slowly lets your leg down from his shoulder.

Arthur frowns, biting the inside of his cheek.

“When you’re gone for weeks at a time, then come back bragging about it, it’s like you ain’t want to be with me. At least that’s what you got me thinkin’.” You lower your voice and encircle your fingers around his forearms. Your thumbs rub gently at his wrists, “So when you drag me out here to fuck you, are you telling me that’s all you want?”

“No.” He gruffly responds.

“Then act like it.”

He lowers himself to his elbows slowly, his cock slipping further inside you and you give a little whine in response. Arthur angles his forearms inward, giving him the ability to brush some of your hair from your forehead. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, plastering your bodies against each other fully. 

“Just - try not to stay out as long. Or maybe take me with you. The cot gets awful cold without you in it. If we’re together, I want to be treated like we’re together.” You whisper, the anger in your blood finally dissipating. 

He hovers above you, finally, a fond smile replaces the previous bombastic smirk on his face.

“Want me t’ write you some poetry?”

“Kiss me, you fool.”

He immediately complies, smashing his lips on yours, tongue pressing against your lips, which you open to him. You moan throatily as he rolls his hips in a full stroke, pulling his cock near completely out and thrusting back in. He repeats the motion again and again.

“Want to be beneath me every night? That’s what my girl wants?”

Your reply is half a scream, “Y-yes! E-every night, Arthur-”

“Goddamn- yes, oh shit, that’s it-” he babbles as his strokes start to come unwieldy.

The molten fire burning in your core licks at your gut, the muscles in your legs start screaming - you know that you’re quickly going to reach your end with each time that he shoves his cock deeper inside you.

“I’m go-gonna come, Arthur -ngh-”

“That’s it, darlin’ girl, come all over my cock.” He croons, changing his motions by pushing himself as deep as he can before gyrating his hips, trying to hit everywhere within you.

You seize up, your thighs clamping around his waist as you cry out to the heavens above, some garbled noise that sounds like the syllables of his name.

Arthur coos, in that teasing way that he does, shutting his eyes as he takes in the feeling of your pulsing core on his cock. The gush of wetness that surrounds him, starting to leak out onto his balls as you thrash and cry.

When finally you begin to calm down, he yanks himself from you and sits up on his knees as he squeezes his eyes shut, pumping his cock as if coming would save his life. 

You shoot up, leaning on one elbow, and bat his hand away from his cock, wrapping your fingers around his base and guiding it into your mouth.

“Aw fuck honey-”

He doesn’t last long. How could he? Not with your perfect mouth around him, not with your tongue pressing against the sensitive slit, not when you suck. With a strangled shout of your name, he comes, spurting warm down your throat. Salty and bitter, just like him - but you suck him dry as if you couldn’t get enough.

He flops down on the bedroll next to you, panting as you curl your body against his, placing your head upon his chest, your hand spread wide over his racing heart. Another centering moment later, he winds his arm around you. 

He’s not going to confess his love for you. You may never get that. But being tucked in his embrace as he holds you to him - for now, you are placated.

He kisses the crown of your forehead gently. You snuggle even further into his embrace.

This you could work with.

[fictionalmenxyn]

—𖥞𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𖥞—

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Warnings: language and nudity (no deep description, just showering together, nothing more)

Summary: after a long day at college, all you wanna do is sleep.

(Rafe is so sweet in this 🤭)

𐬾𐬿𖥞𖥞𖥞𐬿𐬾

Your bedside alarm clock beamed 3:26pm, with its bright white light. You currently lay on your bed, stomach to the mattress. Your AirPod maxs played music as you slept. Wearing your comfy baggy football jersey and sweatpants.

You had been asleep for almost two hours.

Meanwhile Rafe had just finished his football practice. He and his team had worked on game plays and drill for almost four hours. They were versing their rival team in a few days; so their coach wanted them focused and ready.

Rafe was sweaty and in need of some attention from his favourite girl. So he drove over to your sorority house. Parking his black pick up truck out front. He walked over to the front door and knocked. Your friend also roommate, Harley, answered the door “oh hey Rafe, what’s up?” He gave her a small polite smile “hey, is uh, Y/n in??” She smirked and nodded. Stepping aside to let him in, she spoke “she’s up in her room, go ahead.”

Rafe jogged up the stairs and walked down the hall. He was used to them both coming to each others rooms unannounced and never knocking. So he just let himself in, putting his gym bag next to the door. He kicked off his air forces, looking over to you.

Your arms tucked under your pillow, fast asleep. Not a care in the world. He smiled softly at the sight. He walked over and leaned down slightly. He placed a hand on your shoulder and softly shook you a little. You stir awake. Your eyes still shut and you’re still half asleep as you mumble “Brooke…I hmmfucking told you… my notes are on the desk… take ‘em” Rafe chuckled softly. “I’m not Brooke… but I may take those notes, when I need them..”

You turn your head, squinting as your eyes adjust to the light “Rafey??” He nodded “that’s me, princess.” You see he’s in his gym clothes “you done with practice??” He nodded and answered “yeah, gonna use your shower…” you nodded.

He pulled the grey nike gym shirt over his head. Tossing it into your laundry basket. Revealing his tan and toned chest and back. He soon discarded his shorts, leaving him in his black Calvin Kline boxers.

He walked over to the en-suite door, looking over his shoulder, at you. He spoke “you gonna join me, princess??”

You shook your head “hmm don’t wanna get up…” he smirked “oh come on, doll, don’t you wanna spent some time with Rafey?” He knew he’d get you to, especially by the way he phrased it.

You sluggishly get out of your comfy bed. Walking into the en-suite. Taking your clothes off and putting them in the counter for later. You open the glass door, turning on the shower. You step inside after you get Rafe in first, so he can test the water.

As Rafe washes his body, you just stood there. You already had a shower when you got in after your classes; so you didn’t really bother washing all over again. You were there mainly for his company. You gently press your hands on your face, sighing to yourself.

Rafe looked down at you, “what’s wrong, princess?” “‘m so fuckin’ tired.” He opened his arms, bringing you into a hug. He softly rubbed up and down your bare spine. “Aww is my baby tried? Had a long day, baby?” You nodded against his chest. He smiled softly, resting his chin on your head. He noticed your tired and almost exhausted appearance. He knew you had a long day. He kisses your forehead a few times, every so often. “M’sorry, sweet girl, you must be exhausted huh??”

He spoke “aw, baby… once we’re out, how about we have a nap? That sound good??” You nodded and mumbled “thank you, Rafey..” he smiled and kisses the top of your head. He mumbled against your hair “anythin’ for you, my girl..”

Soon after your shower, you were in your clothes from earlier. As Rafe changed into clean boxers that he would keep over at the sorority house. For back up and also a subtly warning for any guy. You didn’t brother asking him way that was a reason. He just did it.

Rafe flopped onto your bed, lying on his stomach. He tucks his arms on top of the pillow. He turned his head and watched you move around your bedroom for a moment. “What’re you looking for, princess?” “My blanket…”

He smiled to himself, one thing he always always found cute about you. Was your blanket. It was a comfort blanket. Red, blue and white checkered blanket. You’ve had it since a child. And although you were a popular, mature and responsible nineteen year old. All of that goes out the window when it comes to that blanket.

You wrapped it around your back. Climbing onto the bed. You lay on Rafe’s back. Your head between his shoulder blades, your legs either side of him.

You feel him turn you both over after some time. You laid on his chest. His arms wrap around you, knowing that comforted you.

He gently rubs your back with one hand as the other rubs circles into your hip. He kissed the top of your head, whispering in your hair “go to sleep, baby… I’ve got you… I’ll be here when you wake…”

You close your eyes, in minutes you were out like a light. He smiled, feeling himself get sleepy, just watching you. He too fell asleep.

Some time later…

Rafe stirred awake. Opening his eyes, he looked down at your nightstand. Seeing your alarm clock read ‘6:37pm’. He looked down at you. Rubbing you back again, just a little firmer, to gently wake you.

You lift your head up a little, rubbing your one eye. He smiles, running his fingers through your hair. “How you feeling, baby? You look better.” You give a tired smile and nod.

“‘m so much better…” he smiled “good to hear…”

“Hey Rafey?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we get chick-fil-a?”

He chuckled softly, still playing with your hair “of course, sweet girl, I’ll order you some food. We can eat it while you watch Chicago fire? How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I’m in love…”

He grinned, god… the softie you made him… he honestly loves it… only for you though… his favourite girl.

𐬾𐬿𖥞𖥞𖥞𐬿𐬾

[queenxxxsupreme]

Before the Storm

(Remy Lebeau x reader)

A/N: This is just a super tiny little drabble because I wanted to get a feel for Gambit’s character. Please if any of it (or all of it) seems out of character for him, let me know. I just wanna do this man some justice

Warnings: cigarettes and alcohol, a little bit of angst but mostly fluff

Summary: It’s the night before the ragtag group of forgotten heroes goes to fight Cassandra Nova, and you share a little moment with your Gambit.

“What took you so long, mon coeur?” Remy spoke from where he was laid out across the bed. To even call it a bed was probably an overstatement. It was just a mattress on the floor, but it was all you had in the Hell that was quite literally the Void.

“Had to find a good bottle.” You held up a bottle of rum.

”Why, I think that’s a fine choice, Miss Y/L/N.” He grinned just a little, then beckoned you over with a wave of his hand.

You kicked off your boots before climbing into the bed. Remy adjusted himself so that he was leaning against the wall. You made yourself comfortable, tucking yourself under his arm.

You twisted the bottle of rum open and took a swig of the sharp alcohol, then passed the bottle to him.

“How do you think tomorrow is going to go, Remy?” You spoke quietly, looking over your shoulder to him.

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing for sure, mon coeur. It ain’t gonna be pretty.”

You shifted yourself around so that you could see his face better.

“You got a smoke?” You asked him. He reached behind him on the bed, blindly feeling for wherever he had set the pack of cigarettes down last.

Remy picked up the box and flicked it open, holding it out for you to take one.

“Thanks, mon amour.” You took the cigarette from him and placed it between your lips. You dug around in the pocket of your jacket and pulled out a lighter. You lit the cigarette before tossing the lighter down on to the bed.

“Are you scared, Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to even ask the question.

”Yeah, Remy. I am.” You admitted, blowing the smoke from your lips. He took the cigarette from you to take a hit of it. ”We’ve never gone up against Cassandra Nova before. We just fight her little pawns and stay as far away from their territory as possible.”

”It’s gonna be real interestin’. That’s for sure.” The smoke that left his lips as he spoke fanned over your face. You leaned further into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” Your fingers wrapped around the glass bottle of alcohol and you took a sip. “Don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

”You ain’t losin’ me no time soon, mon coeur.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Just don’t go doin’ anythin’ stupid tomorrow.”

”Me?” You raised an eyebrow and turned your head so you could admire his features. “Honey, we both know I’m not the one going and doing stupid things on a whim. That’s all you and Johnny’s bad influence.”

He chuckled quietly, bringing his arm that was behind you around your shoulders to pull you close enough so he could seal a kiss on your cheek.

“I miss that fella, Y/N.” The smile that had been on his lips slowly faded.

“I know. Me too.” You took the cigarette from Remy and put it between your lips. “We’ll do it for him, and all the others.”

“To Johnny.” Remy lifted the bottle of rum up as if to toast his dear friend.

“You think we have a chance at beating her, Remy?”

“I think that whatever does happen tomorrow, we’ll be just fine, mon coeur.”

[bkgml]

phone calls with kats !!

you’re rudely awaken by your phone going off like it’s nobody’s business.

“ugh.. fuck off.” you groan, hand tapping at your nightstand in search of your phone.

once you finally grab hold of it your eyes scrunch up from the blinding light of the screen.

you whine lightly, eyes adjusting and clicking the green ‘answer call’ button.

“hello?” you croak out.

“…hey.” you hear from the other line.

you jolt up from bed.

“katsuki?! why are you calling? did something happen? are you okay?!” your mind races a mile a minute. he wouldn’t call you at this hour unless it was important.

“i’m fine, sweets. ‘m sorry for making you worry.” he says quietly.

you pause.

“why’re you calling me kats, did something happen?” you say, now calmed from your previous panic.

you hear a sigh from the other line. it sounds tense and tight in his throat, almost painful.

you let the words come to him, knowing forming words to match his emotions isn’t one of his strong suits, yet.

“just missing you.” he sighs again, to stop tears from forming in his eyes (but he won’t tell you that part).

“i miss you too, suki. you just gotta keep working, yeah? this missions important.” you soothe.

“uh huh.” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“i love you. my big strong man protecting everyone. makes me wanna give you a big kiss as thank you when you come back to me.”

“yeah? you think i’m the strongest, huh? city would be nothin without your man, right?” you hear his grin through his response.

“oh the way to a man’s heart, his ego.” you laugh lightly.

he stays silent while listening to your laugh fizzle out.

stays silent while he listens to your breathing.

stays silent as he listens to you laying back down into the comfort of your bed.

“wish i was there with my sweet girl though.”

you smile lightly, trying to keep him motivated.

“i know, baby, but it’ll feel better after catching your bad guys, more rewarding.”

he goes quiet once more as he thinks.

“i guess you’re right.” he admits begrudgingly.

“i am.” you smile.

he hears you yawn.

“i shouldn’t have woke you.” he frowns.

“i have the day off tomorrow, and even if i didn’t i’d be happy you called, i’ve been missing you too.”

“yeah?” he replies, sounding more longful than he hoped.

“course, kats. love you more than anythin. i should let you sleep though.” you say.

“wait.” he says, urgently.

you do and he sighs.

“can you stay on the phone until i fall asleep?” he grumbles.

“uh huh!” you smile.

“do you wanna facetime so i can see that handsome face?”

he doesn’t reply but you get a request to switch the call to facetime pop up on your screen.

“hi, pretty boy.” you smile.

you watch his brows furrow slightly, faking disgust.

“don’t call me that shit.” he frowns.

“shh. you’re supposed to be going to sleep.”

his frown deepens and he sighs before closing his eyes.

“only a week more. you’re gonna spend your days kicking ass and taking names kats.” you smile as you ramble on quietly.

“my man is going to protect the whole country. all my friends at work are going to be soooo jealous.”

you see him smile slightly, keeping his eyes still closed.

“and then when you’re done doing the job you love you’re going to get on a plane and come see me and all your friends. i might give you a big welcome back party with your friends from high school and your parents.”

you see him frown lightly and you can tell he’s trying his best to listen to you but he’s drifting off so fast.

“but i don’t know, i might have to be selfish and keep you all to myself your first night back. maybe i’ll cook you a nice dinner, your favourite. i could make it extra spicy just for you. or we could order takeout and cuddle up close on the couch while we watch a movie you make fun of the whole time, even though i know you’re enjoying yourself.”

you see his consciousness fade away as you ramble on about all the things you’ll do together when he gets back.

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

chapter 2: i like my whiskey neat

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them. warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 4.6k (this is ch 2) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist here

Down a winding, unpaved road, you and Joel traverse deeper into the trees. Birds sing their afternoon tunes and the rubble from civilization is completely out of eye’s reach, fooling you into believing that the world is still as it once was. 

A lone cabin comes into view, seemingly untouched from the horrors. The windows are intact and not shattered, the vegetation hasn’t swallowed the structure, and there’s a truck neatly parked beside the house, dusty and unused.

Inside, like a perfectly preserved moment in history, the cabin still has a few pots and pans, blankets, and a bed. Your eyes light up when you notice the fireplace in the living room. September in Texas was blazing hot during the day. At night, it was far too cold for your liking.

“Looks like we don’t have to cuddle tonight,” you say playfully. Not that the two of you ever did anything like that.

“You sound disappointed.”

“Not as disappointed as you're about to be when I tell ya I’m an excellent cuddler,” you add.

“That so?” Joel tilts his head and you search his expression for any sign of emotion, but his gaze is rigid. Bored even.

He isn’t interested. Quit with the flirting and pull yourself together.

“Hungry?” Joel asked. Like he always did, ready to provide for you.

“A bit, yeah.”

“I‘m gonna get us some firewood ‘n see if I can catch us a rabbit.” He declares before dipping outside. “You wanna see if you can find anythin’ useful in here?”

“You ever gonna teach me to hunt?”

Joel’s mouth pulls into a subtle smile. “Soon. Just relax for now ‘n I’ll take care of it.” 

You think about how sweet it is for him to think about your comfort. It’s true that your feet are in blistering pain and you’d give anything to just kick back on the sofa and snooze.

Sinking into the cushions you dusted and wiped clean with a damp cloth, you drift off to thoughts of the rugged man outside, chopping wood and hunting game. Thoughts of what it’d feel like to have him kiss you, tongue exploring your mouth, hands groping your soft mounds. You craved to feel his touch, and longed for his faroff gaze to focus on you and only you.

A gunshot shakes the quiet earth. Through the glass window, you see birds emerging from the trees in swarms like dust exploding from an old quilt. You peek outside to see dark storm clouds brewing in the distance.

Joel returns about an hour later with an armful of firewood and kindling. The sunlight slowly fades, casting a soft, orange glow on the logs–receding gently with each passing minute until the house is covered in shadows, the only source of light now is flickering flames at the center of the room. 

“Cabin is nice,” you hum, poking the fire with a stick before tossing it into the heap. The flames swallow it appreciatively, dancing more aggressively from your offering.

“‘S good for the night.”

“Just the night? Why don’t we stay here for longer? Settle down for a while–it’s gonna get colder soon, and this seems like a good place to stay for the wi–”

“Ain’t a good idea.” He clicks his tongue, cutting you off before you can say more. 

“Why not?”

“‘cuz I said so.”

“Joel. This place is safe. You saw that little corner shop we were in. It was barely picked over,” you plead and it was true. Places like this were so detached from the cities that they’d have less clickers, and if you were lucky, more stuff to scavenge. 

“We don’t know who’s around here. Ain’t never been in these parts before so it’s best we keep movin’.”

Always so strict, this one. 

You don your best puppy dog eyes. “Two days. Just–just hear me out…” Your hands wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle tucked in your bag. It was a lucky find, sitting in the back of one of the cupboards. “I promise it’ll be funnn.” 

He tuts, shaking his head but a subtle smile betrays him. 

There it is. 

That smile that sends your heart soaring. 

He shifts his weight to one side and crosses his arms across his broad chest. The green flannel shirt now stretches across his muscles, nearly ripping at the seams. “Fine,” he caves. “But just two.”

“Who knew Joel Miller liked to have a little fun?”

“scuse me?”

“You’re always so strict. That’s all.”

He frowns. “Ain’t strict.”

“Okay, stern.”

“Ain’t stern. I was a lot of fun back in my day, I’ll have ya know.”

“Okay, cowboy,” you tease. 

“Alright, miss know-it-all, how am I strict?” Brow cocked, elbows resting on his knees. “Enlighten me.”

“Well–first of all, you’re all do what I say any time I try to challenge you on somethin’.” You exaggerate his southern drawl and he narrows his eyes at you. “Plus, you won’t even tell me anything personal about you.” 

The first drops of rain pitter patter against the cabin walls.

“First of all, I say what I say ‘cuz I know what’s best for us.”

Us. 

You loved the sound of that. Like you were a team now and he wanted to protect that. 

Your lips fold together, hiding that damn smile that creeps up whenever he says something you like.

“Been through a hell of a lot more than you have ‘n I know what we need to do. Where we need to be. Who and what we need to stay away from.” He leans back against the couch cushion, gazing into the fire that dances in his dark orbs. “Was doin’ just fine until you came along, if I’m bein’ honest.” 

“Oh, I don’t believe that. I’m a hoot.”

“You… are trouble. The amount of times I’ve had to run into a Randall’s to search for Twizzlers is plain stupid.”

“Shut up. They’re good and you know it.” You press the neck of the whiskey bottle to your lips and tilt it back, letting the liquid heat bloom across your tongue.

“They were good ten years ago. Not worth it now.”

You hand him the bottle and his calloused fingers brush yours.

“Ya ain’t got any sense of danger, dunno how you made it this far before you met me, baby.” 

Baby.

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Far as I can tell, I’m all you've got, so have a little faith in me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Mom and dad were long gone. FEDRA killed them for leaving the walls past curfew. Had to do with contraband or somethin’, you weren’t too sure. Just knew that it was bad enough to get them killed. You were fifteen when it happened and on your own. Took ten years later for you to bust out of there with a desert eagle and a backpack full of ammo and granola bars.

Not that you got very far.

Hunters found you trekking along the outskirts of Austin, shot you down just because they wanted your piece of shit backpack. You were lucky they left you where they did and that Joel found you when he had.

You never imagined it would lead you here, though. Sitting in a cabin right outside of the middle of nowhere Texas, drinking a bottle of crown with the man who tossed a coin and snatched you from the grim reaper with his bare hands. 

And you wanted to thank him for it. 

Kiss his co–

Stop.

The rain picks up, nearly drowning out the crackle of the fire with it’s steady rhythm.

“How’d you get this far all by yourself?” There's enough liquid courage running through your veins now, and probably his too, so you figure now is as good as ever to learn the secrets that build Joel Miller.

“Ain’t always been just me.”

“Oh? You save someone else from death and let her tag along with you for a while?” There’s no way he’d pick up on the jealousy hidden beneath the slight strain in your voice. The worry that he’s got someone, somewhere, waiting on him. You run your fingers through your hair and pretend to be disinterested.

“Not quite. Brother, actually. We used to hunt together, but uh–haven’t seen ‘em in a few years.” 

The breath hitched in your throat finally escapes.

“Do you know where he is?” 

“Thinkin’ he’s up north from here. Had to know he was alright, so I got a tip from the fireflies and they suspect he’s in Wyoming.”

“You gonna go see ‘im?”

Joel breathes in, eyes watching the dancing flames. He brings the bottle to his lips–the same place your lips were, you note–and tilts his head back. 

When he rests it back on his knee, he rubs his thumb against the smooth amber glass.“We had a little disagreement ‘n he took off.”

You scoot across the carpet to sit a little closer to him, letting the weight of your body rest on the balls of your feet. Your hand is a featherweight on his knee. “You should go see ‘im.” 

“No.”

“Come on. The fact that you have a family member that’s still alive is a fuckin’ miracle! You should celebrate that and reunite with your brother.”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

He leans forward and offers you a swig and you accept, letting your hand abandon his knee. 

Even though you’d only known the man for a short while, you were familiar with his moods.There were a lot of things he didn’t like to talk about, and if you pried too much he’d ignore you. Change the subject. Some would probably say he was cold, but you knew that there was pain beneath his hardened exterior.

There was a silence that fell over you for a while, a comfortable silence as the two of you watched the fire and clung to the smallest shred of comfort left in the world. A warm fire. A false sense of safety–for the night. Someone to sit next to. 

And then his gruff voice rips through the silence, scraping the floor with its rich baritone. “Forty-eight.”

“What?” You knew what, but you couldn’t believe he’d just shared something else about himself.

“‘M forty-eight.”

Fuck. 

Forty-fucking-eight. 

You knew he was older, sure, but now that you had a number it really sank in. It’s not like you were bothered by his age, but it was moreso a confirmation that he wasn’t going to do anything with you and you weren’t ready to accept that.

“You?”

“Me?”

“Your age.”

“Ah,” you hesitate before speaking again. As if to buy yourself time and keep him guessing for a stretch longer. You almost think about lying but the truth slips from your lips before you cook one up. “I’m twenty-five.”

Joel’s arm is draped across the back cushion of the couch, casting his gaze over his shoulder at something in the room. His expression bored, legs spread, features hardened. 

This is the first time in your life you wished you were forty. You take another sip of whiskey to wash the thought away.

You’ve had your fair share of booze at this point and now you’re buzzing,  the weight that’s been on your chest for weeks is slowly lifting.

He rolls his head back to you and casually says, “Figured you were in your twenties or somethin’. Makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“Why you ain’t careful,” he’s smirking at you now and you roll your eyes.

“I’m careful when I need to be, Miller.”

“Yeah. Well ya got me now to look after ya. Keep ya outta trouble ‘n all.”

What does it even matter if he’s twenty something years your senior? It’s the apocalypse and you’re both adults.

Fuck it.

“Musta been lonely before, just you and nobody else...” Your eyes are on his denim, right around his knees and then up, up, up until you reach his face. “You ever uh–you ever been with anybody since the outbreak?”

Joel’s eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“You know what, Mr. Quietly Charming. Can’t imagine you haven’t run into someone looking for a little escapism?”

His brow lifts when the realization finally hits and he clears his throat. “I’ve had a few...” 

“A few? Impressive considering there aren't a lot of people around. So you got a type then?” 

“Not really.”

“Oh come on, everybody's got a type.”

“Well…I like a woman that's got a mind of her own.”

“How modern of you to let the woman take control.” There’s no hiding your smile that’s stretching from ear to ear.

“Didn't say that. I like her to have a mind of her own… during the day. At night…” He leans forward, voice low, the scent of whiskey on his tongue. “...I like ‘em submissive.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“You been with anybody?”

“He was a FEDRA guard. Took him for a spin so I could steal his ration cards.”

Joel chuckles. “Now why doesn't that surprise me?”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

“Nothin’ bad. Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you do have what it takes to survive.”

“That I do.”

“But you could learn a thing or two about fightin’,” Joel's hand lands on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. It's the first time he's touched you since the day he found you and carried you to the doc.

When he removes his hand and leaves your shoulder cold, you feel a desperate need to feel more of him. The two of you drink and talk and it isn’t long before Joel sheds more of those thick outer layers of his, revealing little pieces about himself that you didn’t know before. 

He used to play guitar, still would if he had one around. The Eagles and Pink Floyd were a few of his favorite artists to play to. Back before the outbreak he was a carpenter, could build anything from a wardrobe to a house with his bare hands.

The key takeaway: Joel was good with his hands.

“How do you normally take your whiskey?”

“Only way I can take it. Neat.”

“Not now. Back in your day when you were loads of fun. I would love to hear more about that too, by the way. Ya ever get arrested? Steal a car? Have a one night stand and knock somebody up?”

Joel chuckles, getting up from his seat and kneeling in front of you. “The hell kinda guy did you think I was back then?” You feel his calloused palm brush against your fingers again as he takes the bottle from your grasp. “I think you’ve had enough of this for tonight.”

“‘I was just gettin’ started.” 

Joel reaches over you to set the bottle up on the aged wooden table,  filling your lungs with his smoky aroma the closer he gets.

“I stole plenty of cars.”  The glass thuds against wood, Joel rests his palm on the edge of table so that he’s caged you in. “Since the outbreak.”

Deep brown eyes bore into you, a muscle working in his jaw as he contemplates the rest of his story. 

You loved his stories.

“Wasn’t worth it to steal back then–we had rules.”

His scent. This position. It’s making you positively feral. You look up at him, doe eyed and eager. 

“What were your rules when it came to sex?” A bold inquisition, but you're ready for the answer.

There's a brief pause as Joel’s dark gaze is on your lips. Parted, plump–kissable, you hope.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart. If you keep givin’ me those eyes, ’m not going to be able to control myself.” 

“Then don’t.”

He groans with temptation. “You’re young. I should know better.” 

“What happened to fun Joel?” You tease.

He chuckles darkly, his bedroom eyes focused on the curves of your lips. “Tell me what you want, baby and I’ll give it to ya.”

A single beat of time passes, letting the heat between you two fester for just an agonizing stretch longer. Joel traces circles into your inner thigh with his finger. 

“You said you like ‘em submissive,” the sound of your voice is sultry, inviting. “Show me what you’ve got, Miller.”

Now his hand is possessively gripping your thigh. He nods, a silent agreement between the two of you that what you once were to each other is now going to change tonight. What was about to transpire would undoubtedly redefine your relationship, but you didn’t care. You needed him, so, so badly. And by the burning look of desire in his gaze, he needed you too.

Thick fingers take hold of your chin and force you to look up, cranking your neck back so Joel is dominating your view of the world. “Needy lil’ thing,” he teases, but his tone is thick with approval. With lust.  

Joel’s lips crash onto yours, his hand still firmly gripping your jaw, digging his thumb into your cheek bone to better force his entry. His tongue commands yours, lapping in a circular motion to taste you.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, slowly laying you back until you’re pinned under his heat. 

The wetness of his tongue glides across your neck with insatiable desire while a rough hand cups your mound, kneading your breasts.

Joel’s urgency felt animalistic as he explored every inch of you, hands sliding down to your waist, saving the feel of you to his memory for now until the end of his days.

He smooths his hand across your stomach, down until his calloused fingertips brush your waistline. You moan into his mouth, grabbing a handful of his plaid shirt to reel him in closer to you. He groans, rutting into you. “Fuck. You’re already soakin’ wet for me?”

“Mhmm,” you say, eyelids heavy with lust.

Licking his lips cravenly, he tugs your panties down with ease. Your back arches when the pads of his fingers slide along the wet slick of your swollen bud, a euphoric feeling coupled with a desperate thirst to taste his lips again.  As if he heard your plea, his tongue is sliding against yours again, the taste smooth like whiskey. His fingers glide across your folds, slowly at first, gradually picking up the pace as he masterfully brings you to the edge.

“Joel, I want you so bad.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck and breathes deep before looking back at you, pupils blown out. “Just be patient. I wanna make ya feel good first–think ya can do that?”

You bite back a moan and nod your head with eager obedience. Joel lifts your shirt, revealing your bare breasts as he hums in approval, his lips graze your skin and then he’s biting and sucking your sensitive peaks with fervor, groaning and sucking, sucking and groaning. Two fingers sink into you and your jaw goes slack, the sensation utterly electrifying from head to toe. 

He pumps into you with a slow and steady rhythm, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit. You feel his cock hard and throbbing against your leg, his hips bucking into you with carnal need, a male response to the sounds of your feminine moans.

“Good girl, show me how much you like it–lemme hear your pretty little voice.” 

“Joel–please–I need more–I need–” You babble.

“Just be patient. If I take you right now, baby ‘m gonna split you open. Need to warm up this lil’ pussy first.” He sinks a third finger into your heat, walls tightly constricting around him. You beg and plea for more as he pulls his name from your lips over and over again until finally, he’s guiding you to your sweet release. Needy fingers pull on the fabric of his shirt, toes curling with pleasure, mouth agape as you absorb the blissful sensation of Joel’s wide fingers, knuckledeep inside your cunt.

Then the fullness of him is gone and the emptiness of the room is replaced with the angry sound of a zipper. Between your knees you see Joel’s massive, pulsating cock bucked in his hand and a dark, lustful smile painted on his lips to match. “Spread your legs,” he growls.

His hand  is pressed to your thigh, spreading your legs even further apart, drawing his hips closer to yours. You shift your gaze downward to see the bead of precum oozing from the head of his cock. His tip tastes the sweet slick of your entrance just before he plunges into you and your back arches violently, jaw slack as you struggle to adjust to his impossible girth. He pulls out slowly only to thrust back into you, curses pouring from his lips at the feel of your walls snuggly wrapped around him.

It’s this moment that makes you realize that you were made for him.

And if you weren’t, you were utterly ruined. Your pussy would forever be molded to the shape of him.

“So tight baby–fuck. You’re takin’ me so well–such a good girl.” The man was so deep inside you and drunk with lust, he could barely construct coherent sentences.

“M-More!” You beg despite his brutal pace, you craved for more of him. 

He craved more of you, fucking you dumb, the wet sound of his balls slapping against your skin is drowning out the downpour outside. You’re moaning at a decibel so high, if anyone else is in the neighborhood, they’d surely hear you. Everytime you moan, Joel groans. Sometimes he growls, usually when he was buried to the hilt in your heat and you’d grind against him, urging him to stay there and never leave, wrapping your legs around his hips.

“H-Harder.”

“Needy lil’ thing, beggin’ for more.” The pace quickens and so does the amount of kisses on your neck and the sweet nothings you only dreamed he’d be capable of saying to you. His praises are endless. How tight your pussy is, how wet you are, what a good girl you are for him.

Wanton moans pour from your lips after each praise–shameless noises, really, but you don’t care. You scream for more, more, more as he mercilessly pounds into you, fucking you with the same ferocity that he fights with.

“You like that baby? You like getting fucked by someone old enough to be your daddy?”

“Come in me. Please. Please.”

“Can’t do that, darlin’.” He smiles sinfully into your neck, licking and nibbling at the sensitive spot just under your ear. “But I wish–wanna fill you up so fuckin’ bad ‘til you’re full of me.”

His hand firmly grips the base of your throat, a grip strong enough to keep you pinned down but not enough to hurt you.

“Joel–I’m gonna come!”

“Come on my cock like a good girl.” The deep command of his voice sets you over the edge and Joel takes you to the finish line, thrusting into you in slow, long strides and then merciless pounding. “Baby, you’re suckin’ me in, ‘m not gonna be able to hold it.”

You wrap your legs tightly around him, body still convulsing as you ride your high, walls fluttering dangerously around his cock. 

“Fuck it,” he says through gritted teeth, taking your waist in each of his hands with a bruising grip. His thighs are slapping into you, jeans still half on, his loosened belt buckle branding the right side of your ass and then he’s pouring himself into you. Hot ropes of Joel’s cum fill you to the brim, his cock pulsing, straining to empty his last drop. Warm seed trickles down your ass.

His chest is pressed against yours, both of you heaving as you settle from your climax. The only sounds are the crackling fire, the once harsh downpour of rain that’s now reduced to a gentle simmer, and the sound of your breath tangled with his.

“Again.” His voice is more of a demand than a request, his cock twitching inside of you with interest.

“Joel, I can’t take it anymore.”

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at his eyes, wild with lust. “Yes, you can.”

Your chests are heaving and foreheads tacky with sweat.

“Mmmmm, Joel…”

The sounds of your tryst carry on until the early morning hours when Joel’s desire finally subsides. Your ear is pressed to his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart, his ragged breathing. In between breaths, he says, “Been thinkin’...” The rumble of his gravelly voice reverberates in your ear.

“Oh yeah?”

“‘Bout helpin’ you finish that bucket list of yours.”

“I don’t have a bucket list, Joel.” 

“Learn to drive, eat pie, go to school, go on a date…” He starts listing everything you mentioned earlier. “Ain’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but it’s a fantasy. Can’t go on a date at the diner when the world has ended.”

“Sure ya can, just gotta have a little bit of ‘n imagination.” The scruff of Joel’s beard brushes against your forehead as he speaks to you. “Close your eyes.”

You oblige, a playful smirk on your face.

“You’re wearin’ one ‘a them summer dresses. Pink.”

“Yellow,” you argue.

“I like yellow.” Joel says with approval.

“Does it hug my chest real nice?”

“Sure does, darlin’. But I ain’t just lookin’ at that. ‘M lookin’ at how beautiful your eyes, wide and lit up with excitement for our first date.”

“Go on.”

“I just got off of work, picked you up in my old chevy and drove us down to 4th Street to the town’s favorite, the Millcreek Diner. Fifties style, decked out with a jukebox and red leather barstools, and a glowing neon sign that says Milkshakes ‘n Fries.” There’s a vivid picture painted in your head as Joel narrates the world from before, images pulled together from old photos and books you stumbled across throughout your travels. 

“I want a burger. Extra fries, extra cheese, and a milkshake.”

“Good choice.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“The burger is juicey ‘n savory–Fresh. Fries are salty and crispy, ‘n then they melt in your mouth after the first couple crunches.”

Your mouth waters at the thought of having something so hot–so fresh.

“And the milkshake?”

“‘S a little cold, perfect for dessert. Tastes like sweet strawberries. Comes with a little cherry on top of the whipped cream. You ever had a cherry before?” 

“Once.”

“Tastes like that, but sweeter. The color is bright red. They’re called maraschino cherries or som’ like that.”

“You sure know a lot about things.”

“Was basic stuff everybody knew back then. And shh–ain’t done with our date yet.” He clears his throat and continues, “Watcha goin’ to school for, darlin’?”

“Film. Parents think it’s a bad idea though. It’s not practical, probably won’t pay the bills. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Bills. That’s one thing I can say I’m glad is gone.”

“Joel.”

“Sorry, sorry. Yeah–film, ‘s good. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with following your dreams. Everybody can’t play it safe and be a carpenter like me, otherwise we wouldn’t have nothin’ to look forward to at the end of the day. Movies, books, all the good stuff.”

“Yeah, well I think carpenters are pretty sexy. Might even mean a guy is good with his hands, no?”

He rolls over so his body is hovering over yours. There’s an arrogant smirk on his face, his breath ghosts your lips when he says, “you tell me, sweetheart. But we ain’t even had our first kiss yet.”

“Kiss me then.” 

This time his lips gently press yours, his tongue slowly sliding between your lips. Unlike the makeout session from earlier, this kiss is sweet and gentle. Like the kiss of a lover.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to end a first date.

[soysaurus]

There's a trait that runs through every hero, regardless of if they've spent the last couple months in prison, rehab, or wrangling pyjamas onto a stubborn five-year-old: they're a workaholic.

Thank god Jason is not a hero. Roy, on the other hand, definitely is. He might be ‘inactive’ or ‘I’m just focusing on Lian right now, thanks’, but Jason has dropped by Roy's shitty apartment in Star often enough that he can confidently say Roy, no matter what, is a hero.

So he kicks him.

“Ow! What the fuck, Jaybird?” Roy glares as he brings his fingers to his lips, slurping up the bright orange liquid that’s currently coating half his sleeve.

More keeps dripping onto the floor in radioactive bursts, and the bowl is steaming. It has a chip in the side from when Jason was teaching Lian how to shoot, and Jason knows what the ceramic feels like when steam is escaping from every orifice. He had to use his Red Hood gloves to hold the damn thing last time. He had to do a lot of things, but Roy's fingers don't shake as he holds the bowl in one hand.

He kicks Jason lightly back. “You're a fucking asshole, Todd, ya know that?”

Jason's head is a slow buzz. It's a sound that he can feel spit behind his eyes, sing with sharp vowels and harsh chords. It's something that's attacking him from the inside-out, digging deep until he can feel the green of the pit flare in his throat.

“Fuck ‘ff,” he murmurs, turning his head to look anywhere but Roy. “Don't need your shit-ass soup. Don't need anythin’.”

He moves to stand, to sit, to do anything but be useless on the sofa.

Roy only needs one hand to hold Jason down, and Jason tells himself it's just this once. It's because Roy is a hero and Jason is anything but.

“Dude, you're, like, what? Two seconds from passing out my couch? Eat the damn soup.”

Jason doesn't look as the bowl is shoved in front of him. More sloshes over the sides, lapping at Roy's thumb. He needs to get his mind out of the gutter. He needs to remember why he came here in the first place.

Roy groans, deep and guttural with his head thrown back and all the muscles in his neck straining. Sometimes Jason wants to curl his fingers around the thick flesh, cord his soul into the pieces of Roy he can never get back, and take him. For real this time.

He looks at the damned fucking soup.

It's tomato or carrot, or maybe even something that has never been orange in the first place. Jason can feel the steam hitting his nose hairs but he can't smell anything. “Needs more seasoning,” he spits.

Roy sighs. The soup nips his fingers again as he plops down onto the sofa. Their thighs touch, brush, hold on tight enough to blur the lines.

“You're sick,” Roy says. He holds up a spoon. It's caked in red. “Here comes the aeroplane…”

Jason wants to punch him, and it's fine because even though Jason rescued Roy first, Jason was also the first who left. He was the first who walked away and didn't return. He was the first one who died, and then died again.

It's stupid. Roy likes to say he died too, but Jason doesn't like thinking about explosions. He can't think about anything right now anyway. His brain hurts. The words in his head buzz. A hot tip touches his lips but it's not the right kind.

“Open wide.” Roy's using his Dad voice, and it's horrifying. Jason can feel his heart in his lungs and sometimes he forgets Roy has green eyes too.

They're earthier. Grounded. They're nothing like the look Jason stares at Roy with when Lian's gone to bed and the bowl's still chipped and the dishes haven't been scrubbed but everyone is too tired to touch it.

Roy sighs. The spoon clatters into the bowl, and he sucks the soup from his thumb again. “Jay, you gotta work with me here. You're sick. Being a stubborn asshole isn't gonna change that. What're you even doing here, man? Thought you were tired.”

Jason has never said he's tired before. At least not to Roy. The voice in his head that glows green and grins acid is different. He thinks he loves the voice and also hates it. He doesn't know if it's himself or someone else.

“Shut up, Harper.” He sniffs without meaning to and promptly closes his mouth.

Roy's lips break into that sly grin that means he's going home with at least a couple numbers and a body or two hanging from his elbows. “Only if you eat the damn soup. Otherwise I'll keep going, baby. I can keep this up all night long.” He winks as if Jason doesn't know him. “You know I've got the stamina to prove it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Kind of. It hurts and the world spins, and then Roy's whispering meaningless words into his ear. He thinks his eyes are open but then he blinks and sees the ceiling. He does a double take but his body doesn't move. The air swirls. Something pinches his hips, then his legs, and then Jason is in Roy's room and the sheets smell like his body wash.

There's another smell, something heady and unmistakably Roy. Jason's not in love because he's never been in love. He doesn't know what it looks like.

He smells soup.

A ceramic bowl clatters gently, and a duvet is tugged up to Jason's chin. The bed dips next to Jason's waist and Roy's hair is long. It isn't tied back, but it was before. With the lamp light, his eyelashes look brighter. Almost like they're glowing.

Jason's not in love because Roy could never love him. He's just not the type. He's someone who dedicates his life to one person and one person only, and Jason is nowhere near a hero.

The tip of the spoon touches his bottom lip. It's cooler.

“Open wide.”

Maybe it's because it's half-one in the morning or Jason's running a fever higher than he ever has before, or because he's only twenty-one and yet he has over half of Gotham's underground under his control. His chest clenches. Tim said Jason's going to end up with heart attacks if he keeps this going, and then Jason yelled about all the empty Red Bull cans littering Tim's floor.

Jason's only twenty-one but he's never been in love. He was, maybe, once when he was fifteen. But that was before the voice in his head was impossibly loud. He doesn't remember who it was, and they're probably gone.

He opens his mouth. Roy grins, sly and dirty. His Dad voice slips out: “Good boy.”

Jason's going to kill him. He doesn't remember why he came to Star City tonight. He doesn't remember a lot of things.

His chest tightens even more as he swallows, and maybe Tim is right. Maybe heart attacks are going to be what finally takes Jason out.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐈𝐧-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝

Summary ➳ With a suspended license, you took the risk of picking up your brothers from a bar and when caught, Officer Walsh gives you a choice.

(A/n) ➳ I just realized that I’m still on season 3… I might end up rewatching season 1 and 2… Yeah, I’m rewatching it.

Word Count ➳ 1.4k

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, NO OUTBREAK, DARK SHANE, DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sexual content, , heavy profanity, mentions of drugs, alcohol use, oral (M), abuse of power, face-fucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling…

DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI 18+

“Don’t be blamin’ me you damn dipshits!” You shouted over the phone as you struggled to boot your boots on. “How the hell did he even get kicked out?” You threw on your jacket.

“The hell was I supposed to know he was gonna get drunk?”

“You’re with him!”

“Jus’ get yer damn ass over ‘ere!”

“My license is suspended! Where’s your car?!

“The piece of shit broke down! It’s late, the cops ain’t gonna do anythin’.”

“Easy for you to fuckin’ say.” You groaned, grabbing Merle’s truck keys and walking out of the door. You angrily hung up on him, cutting off his cursing at Merle and loudly crashing.

You shoved the worn out key into the ignition, and felt that familiar click. You turned the key and waited for the engine to turn on. There’s a low rumble but then a silence.

You grumbled and turned the key again, it grumbled a little louder this time but nothing. “For fuck’s sake!” You shouted and tried it again, finally it turned on.

You changed gears and backed out of the driveway, and hurriedly drove to the only bar closest to where you all lived.

You again changed gears and turned on the radio as an attempt to calm down, but you knew it wasn’t helping when you were still cursing about Merle. You gripped the worn out steering wheel, trying to tune out the strange rumbling from the engine.

Urgency ran through your veins, and you didn’t pay attention to how fast you were going. It was nearly midnight, barely anyone was on the road.

From the familiar signs, you were at the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minutes away.

“Dammit!” You smacked the steering wheel as the red and blue lights appeared right behind you. A wave of uneasiness overcomes your anger, the last thing you wanted to was be arrested for evading the police.

The flashing lights illuminated the dark road as you pulled over, bringing the truck to a park. You can see from the mirror the officer leaving his car and speak to his radio.

You rolled down your window as he approached the truck, leaning towards the window. “Evenin’, ma’am. What brings you out here so late?”

You contained your frustration and put on a smile. “Just tryin’ to pick up my brothers from a bar.”

You felt like he stared longer than he should, you could see him scanning the inside of the truck, taking note of various Merle’s stuff scattered across the back seat.

“License and registration.” He asked.You reached over and opened the glove box and handed him your registration. He took the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “License?”

“Look officer…?” You looked at his badge but he beat you to it.

“Walsh.”

“Walsh, I don’t have it.”

You could see the disappointment in his eyes, he pulled out his pen and notepad. “Name and birthdate?”

“(Y/n) Dixon-”

“Dixon? Which would make you related to Merle Dixon?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Look, I ain’t got time to talk. Can’t I just-”

“I’m assumin’ this ain’t your truck.” Before you could say anything else, he began to circle the truck with a lit flashlight in hand.

“Fuck me.” You mumbled, knowing Merle, he probably had some illegal substances hiding in wherever. “Fuck you Merle.” You cannot have a drug charge on your record, you could not have that.

“Can you step out of the vehicle for me?” He said out loud, coming back to the door.

“Officer-”

“Don’t make this difficult, Dixon.” He took a couple steps back, a hand on his hip as he waited for you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, turned off the truck and stepped out of it. “You have anythin’ you hidin’?” He questioned you.

“Nope.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Shane smirked, turning off his flashlight. “You know what happens when you drive without a license?”

“Officer Walsh, my brothers need me to pick them up. Just write me a ticket and let me be on my way.”

“Drivin’ late at night, without a license? You know how dangerous it is?” He said. “Givin’ you a ticket ain’t gonna be enough.”

“Officer-”

“I’ll give you two choices.” Shane maneuvered around you, shutting the truck door, blocking the door. “I can arrest you and get you booked which could take…” He counted using his fingers. “A hour to a couple hours-”

“Then arrest me-”

“Minus waitin’ for your case.” Shane lowered his hands, grinning. “Or…” His hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it. “You can get on your knees.”

“The hell I am-!”

Shane loudly hushed you. “You want me to turn a blind eye?”

You stumbled over your words, a mix of excuses and curses. But the shit eating grin was still on his face and when you took a glance at his crotch, he was already hard.

“You’re disgustin’.”

Shane shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Be a good girl, Dixon. Don’t be keepin’ your brothers waitin’.” He pulled himself out of his pants, and pumped himself slowly. “Get on your knees.”

“Fuck me.” You muttered under your breath, doing as he said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes and took him into your hands, jerking him off with a disgusted look on your face. You refused to look at him or his cock, keeping your gaze on the ground.

From base to head, you stroked, twisting your hand around it.

You wished to yourself that he would quickly cum and get on with your night. You tried to focus on something else and hoped that if anyone did pass by they wouldn’t see.

Shane grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it back roughly, a gasp lifted your lips. He shoved his thumb into your mouth as the rest of his fingers held your face.

He breathed heavily and plunged himself into your mouth. He forced you down to the base, his pubic hair itching your nose, making it scrunch. His hips began to buck and your jaw slacked.

Your hand clutched his pants, your nails digging into them. Your eyes shut tightly as each time he touched the back of your throat, you gagged.

Your saliva dripped down your chin, and when he tugged at your hair, you whimpered. The pain was unbearable as he took joy in seeing you in pain, your hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.

“You’ve done this before?” Shane sneered at you, throwing his head back and moaning quite loudly. It was like he didn’t care if he got caught. “You sure have a fuckin’ talent!”

Shane didn’t care for any discomfort you were feeling, all the stress that Merle and Daryl caused in the past was being taken out on you.

He pulled back until it’s just the head of his cock in your mouth then thrusted back in. Again and again, his hand tight in your hair, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and his cock glistening with saliva.

“Look at me.” He panted. “C’mom, look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, your eyes snapped to his, watery and wide, full of anger.

He cursed at you, biting down on his lip as the orgasm builded in him. He then held your head still as he was so far deep that your body jerked.

Shane gave out a loud grunt as he came inside and down your throat. You started to choke, you punched his thigh a couple of times before he threw you off him.

You hit the ground, coughing. You hissed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The salty and bitter taste in your mouth made you retch.

He let out a sigh of relief, tucking himself back into his pants. “Drive safely ma’am.” He laughed once again as he walked to his car. Once you were sure he drove off, you picked yourself up from the ground and quickly drove to the bar.

“Took yer sweet ass time!” Daryl shoved an unconscious Merle into the backseat before getting into the passenger side. “The hell happened?”

“Cops.” You packed out of the parking spot and drove, trying to focus on the road.

“Anythin’ happen? Ya alright?”

“Yeah, let me off with a warnin’.”

“Seriously-?”

“I’m tired Daryl. Just let me get this asshole home.” You couldn’t focus, not without the bitter taste in your mouth, drowning out Daryl’s attempts to wake his brother for his phone.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission

[jhoneybees]

hey! I love ur writing and was wondering if you could do a little one shot with BDE and a reader who’s kind of scared of motorcycles (maybe a family member got into an accident on one or something) and she’s always refused to ride one but Elvis ends up convincing her and she has the time of her life? I think it’d be super cute and funny haha

This idea is so cute! I enjoyed writing this one. Definitely, I can do a little oneshot for you🤭🩷

Freedom

Characters: Mid 70s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: Mentions of a family member dying, reader calling E daddy, use of Y/n, fear of motorbikes, anxiety, facing a fear

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @elvisalltheway101 @i-r-i-n-a-a

_____________________________________________

Ever since your uncle that you loved so much died from that motorbike accident when you were little, you’ve been terrified of motorcycles. The fact that a machine like that can kill such innocent people makes your stomach turn.

And it sure brings you anxiety when Elvis would ride around on his motor toys. He tried many times to get you to come and look at the new motorbikes he would buy every now and then but you wouldn’t budge.

You just can’t bear the memories that might flood back into your mind if you even looked at a motorbike…but knowing you, you absolutely adore Elvis and his excitement when it comes to his new possessions so today you would face the fear.

“You’ll love it, baby, c’mere.” Elvis beams happily, gently pushing on the small of your back as you stand in the front door.

Guiding you onto the concrete driveway with his hand moving to hold yours, squeezing gently.

“I-It’s not too big, right?” You stammer, nervously. Swallowing as he holds both of your shoulders.

“No, it ain’t too big, honey, it’s real pretty.” He smiles.

You nod and just when you turn around to face the thing you’ve been scared of for years, Elvis gives you a peck on the temple. “Promise.”

Your heart skips a beat, the thing is pretty.

Black leather seat and shiny steel everywhere creating something that’s…quite an interesting piece of art.

“What d’ya think?” Elvis asks with a wide smile, walking over to wheel the vehicle more out of the garage.

You step back feeling a bit frightened as he kicks the footstand down.

“It’s…interesting.” You reply, almost in a whisper. Curiously observing the motorbike in front of you.

Elvis chuckles, he sits down on the seat never taking his eyes off of you.

“Would ya want to go for a ride?”

Snapping your wide eyes up to his face, you shake your head immediately. Taking a few more steps back. “No.”

“Oh honey, It’ll be fu-”

“No, I’m not going on that thing.”

He breathes out a laugh, moving to grab your hand but you snatch it away. “C’mon, darling. You know I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”

You frown and shake your head again, glaring down at the machine under him. “No, Elvis, I’m not going for a ride.”

“Baby-”

“No.”

“Listen-”

“No.”

“Bab-”

“No-”

“Y/n, listen!”

You cross your arms. Drifting your gaze back up to Elvis’ comforting eyes, seeing him grinning. You sigh through your nose. “I know yer scared of motorcycles…but I promise you’d have a good time if we went fer a ride, baby”

You’re not so sure about that. “I don’t want ta end up like uncle tim-”

“Uncle Timmy, I know sweetheart, I know…you know I always take care of my flower, right?”

“...Yes” You mumble, shyly, as Elvis’ hand goes to pull you closer by the elbow. Leaning in to kiss your arm. “And today wouldn’t be an exception, hm?...What do ya say? Go fer a fun ride with me?” He asks with a sparkle in his eye.

Oh, you’re really not sure about this… a motorbike killed your beloved family member, it went out of control and what if that happens to you!

“El…”

“Think about it, darling…” Elvis tells you, caressing the side of your thigh with his thumb and watching your face.

…But Elvis promises nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.

And you know he means it.

“O-Okay.”

Elvis smirks. “Gonna come with me?”

“...Mhm”

“Oh, brave girl.” He coos, ushering you over to give him a kiss and his arms go around your waist. Peering up at you with a proud smile. “Daddy will go slow, m’kay? We won’t go fast.” He reassures.

You nod hesitantly, closing your eyes briefly as he stands up and pecks your forehead. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “Good girl, c’mon, I’ll show you how to get on.”

Elvis waited, helped and comforted you as he lifted you onto the motorbike and told you to hold his waist tightly as you both rode out the gates of your Beverly hills home. Steadily going up and down the hill heading towards the main intersection, stopping at a red light. “All good, baby?” He asks, rubbing your hand that’s rested on his stomach.

You hum quietly, shuffling your body to press against his back more. “All good.”

Elvis grins and when the traffic lights turn green, the powerful motorbike roars. Zooming straight onto the other side and squeaking into his shoulder, Elvis starts to laugh as the both of you speed down the road. Cars drive past, honking their horns in delight recognizing who you are riding on the big Harley Davidson.

Your heart beats rapidly in slight fear but as Elvis turns down through another intersection, your eyes light up at the beautiful view of the beach. Seeing little kids and parents play in the distance and couples kissing and cuddling, that uncomfortable feeling soon fades.

You start to smile, growing bigger and bigger as every second goes by.

You’ve always been confused why your uncle Timmy liked to ride his motorbike so much, everytime he would come over to your parents’ house he’d be on his Harley, whenever he would pick you up from school because your parents were out of town he’s harley would be there, taking you out on a little adventure, he’d say “Let’s take the Harley”. You didn’t understand it.

Now…Now you do.

“Go faster!” You yell, gripping Elvis’ leather jacket tighter.

“Faster?!”

“Faster, faster!”

He chuckles. “Alright!”

You look over his shoulder, watching as the speedometer goes higher and higher up in numbers.

40.

50.

60!

70!

Rumbling up and down hills, buzzing through streets and whizzing past oncoming traffic, you’re having the time of your life!

Laughing and screaming and cheering together as you two move onto the motorway, you raise your arms in the air feeling wind blowing through your hair and the orange sunset kissing your face. You feel like you’re running away from your responsibilities and that is the best but what is really the best is that you feel free, free with the love of your life.

“Faster!”

“Hold on tight!”

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hii there love <3 I hope you’re doing well!

Would you mind please writing a drabble in the Elementary-verse where Reader surprises Joel and Sarah (and even Tommy as well, if you’d like!) with a homemade meal for dinner one night? Now that Reader was assured by Joel that it was more than okay for her to do something like this, I feel like she definitely would and it’d be super sweet 🥺💞 Thank you for being so amazing <3

Winter Break

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (just more fluff, alcohol consumption i guess, maybe some suggestive stuff but nothing explicit at all) as always, not proofread and written on an edible :)

wc: 2k (this got away from me)

series masterlist | joel masterlist

The winter had gotten to all of you, the school year wearing you down along with Sarah as she finished her first semester as a high schooler. Joel and Tommy had it just as bad—having to work outside in the wettest Texas winter you’d ever seen since moving here. More often than not, Joel would come hobbling into the house after he got off work well past dark, only having the energy to call in some take-out for the three of you. He usually ended up falling asleep on the sofa before the food ever arrived.

But tonight marked the start of winter break, and the start of Joel’s vacation days he was in desperate need of. You wanted to celebrate getting through such a rough month with a home cooked meal—not the first you ever made, but certainly the first in a while.

When Sarah got out of school, the two of you drove over to the supermarket to do some shopping. You didn’t want any of you to have to leave the house this winter break, so on top of the usual snacks and frozen junk food Joel kept his fridge stocked with, you also carefully planned dinner for tonight.

“Ooo, vegetables. Been a while since I had those,” Sarah joked, forcing a laugh out of you as you knew it was sadly true.

“Gonna make a roast tonight,” you informed with a smile. “Figured we should probably eat something other than takeout and frozen pizza.”

“Dad’s gonna be excited…long as he can manage to stay awake through dinner. Dad fell asleep on the way to school this morning.” You gasped and watched her nod. “Yeah, good thing Uncle Tommy was driving. Otherwise—“

“Jesus,” you sighed and shook your head. “I’m gonna lock your father up and force him to sleep for like two days straight starting tomorrow.”

“I don’t need sleep like y’all,” Sarah impersonated her father, pulling another laugh out of you. “I’m a big, strong, man. I don’t need sleep or water or vegetables or anythin’ else most humans need to survive. All I need’s a cup of black coffee and I’ll be alright.”

“That was so good, I got chills.”

Back at home, you got to work on dinner. Sarah attempted to help you out, but you lovingly forced her to relax, instructing her to turn on the TV, kick her feet up and just chill while you handled things. But, the fifteen-year old was stubborn like her father and refused, instead choosing to sit at the kitchen table and finish her upcoming project due the week after school recommenced. As a teacher, you wanted to applaud her for her work ethic, but as her future step-mother, you wanted to pluck her pen from her hand and break it, forcing her to do what every other teenager in the world was doing tonight—nothing.

When it was clear she was going to spend her break her own way, you left her to it, focusing on chopping the potatoes, onions, and carrots—omitting celery as Sarah hated it and reminded you of that fact as you reached for a stalk at the grocery store. As you slid the potatoes in a pot to parboil, your cellphone started to ring on the counter.

“It’s dad,” Sarah announced, peeking at the caller ID.

“Can you get it?”

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded and flipped open the phone. “Hey dad.”

You continued on with dinner as they spoke, the phone call not lasting more than a couple minutes.

“Dad said Uncle Tommy is coming over tonight,” she relayed before getting back to her work.

“Good thing I bought the fattest roast in the store,” you spoke through strain as you lifted the roast from it’s packaging to sit in the middle of a metal roasting pan.

“God,” she chuckled at the size. “And you know what? I bet even with all of that, there’ll still be no leftovers by the time dad and Uncle Tommy get through with it.”

The boys entered the house the way the always did, bickering and graceless, their mud and cement covered work books kicked off by the door as they walked in through the garage.

“I’m just sayin’,” Tommy continued whatever conversation they had going on as they walked into the kitchen. Joel sidled up next to you at the stove, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, but I’m tellin’ you,” Joel spoke to his brother but physically remained focused on you and your cooking. “If we can’t get the electrical guys to show up on time, we’re gonna be in some shit. And I know they’re your buddies and all, but this is my goddamn business, Tommy. I can’t keep hand in’ out favors only to get shitty, half-assed work in return.”

“I know,” he sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to ‘em tomorrow.”

“What’s all this?” Joel mumbled against your temple as he gave you another kiss there, finally greeting you with his voice.

“Thought we were due for a real dinner,” you mumbled back, melting into his side even though he smelled of hard labor and dirt. “There’s a roast in the oven. Should be ready in about twenty minutes. Oh, and there’s beer in the fridge.”

“My god,” Joel gave your hip a squeeze and kissed your cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Damn right you don’t,” Tommy agreed as he appeared on your other side to peek at the food. “How long do I gotta sit in torture?”

“20 minutes,” you replied through a chuckle. “There’s beer in the fridge to distract yourself with in the meantime.”

“Joel, if you don’t marry her, I will.”

“Shut up and go sit down,” Joel ordered, tightening his hold on you. “Gotta keep my eye on him, might try stealin’ you away.”

“I promise you, there’s no chance of that,” you assured. “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling at you. You turned your head to nod at him, your eyes naturally falling to his lips. “Me too.”

Dinner was alright. The meat could have been a bit more tender and the carrots needed longer, but you seemed to be the only one who noticed. All three Millers tore into dinner until, as Sarah predicted, there were no leftovers.

Now, Tommy laid sprawled out on the couch, his jeans unbuttoned, one hand over his full stomach, the other wrapped around a beer. Sarah sat with him on the other end of the sofa, kicking his feet away any time he tried to rest them near her. Joel looked to be in a similar condition as his brother, sitting back in a dining chair with both hands rubbing over his stomach, his eyes on you as you scraped your plate clean over the trash can.

“Don’t do the dishes,” he commanded, knowing you much too well. You shot him a smile and shook your head.

“It’ll just take fifteen minutes,” you promised, but it didn’t satisfy him. He stood, bones cracking as he walked to stand behind you at the sink. His hands moved from your hips to your hold your wrist. Slowly, he pulled up the sleeves of your sweater one arm at a time, his warmth pressing into you from behind.

“You wash, I’ll dry,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss there before backing away to stand beside you. “How was your last day before break?”

“Surprisingly very calm,” you replied, as you started on the pile of dishes in the sink. “Think everyone’s just excited to get a break. Speaking of, Sarah told me about your nap on the way to school this morning.”

“Oh, hell—just dozed off, it’s nothin. Not everybody needs ten hours of sleep a night to function—“ Your laughter cut him off. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He shot you a persistent look. “Sarah thought you’d say something like that.”

“She tried to do my voice, didn’t she?” he asked, making you laugh. “It ain’t a great impersonation.”

“I thought it was pretty good.” Joel smiled and accepted the freshly scrubbed plate from your hand with a playful tug.

“You look good tonight, baby,” he spoke quieter, just for you to hear. You felt your stomach tingle with affection at the sound of his low voice—the voice only you got to hear.

“Yeah?” you questioned with a smirk. Joel grinned and nodded in eager confirmation. “You’re just happy because you’ve got a full belly.”

“Dinner was delicious, by the way,” he continued, not detailed by your inability to receive a compliment. “Think one look at Tommy will prove it.”

Your heard turned to the other side to watch as Tommy snored on the sofa.

“Guess he’s staying the night,” you turned to Joel. “I should go get the air mattress—“

“Uh-uh,” he protested with a soft shake of his head. “He’s fine like that. You’re so worried about us relaxin’, you’ve forgotten you’re the most wound up outta all of us. Relax, baby. You are allowed to do that, ya know?”

You chuckled and nodded, looking away from his eyes and back to the dishes.

“How about you go get a fire going in the backyard and I’ll come and sit with you for a while,” you suggested, bringing a fresh smile to Joel’s face.

“I think that sounds like a slice of heaven,” he hummed against your cheek as he kissed you there. “Maybe I’ll even bring out the guitar.”

“That would be nice,” you beamed. Joel’s playing was so pretty, but also so rare. He never had the time for it, always either working or sleeping, but tonight, he had all the time in the world.

Tommy was asleep on the sofa, Sarah up in her bed doing the same thing. You and Joel remained cozied up together in the backyard, a blanket over your laps, your head leaning onto his shoulder as Joel strummed away at his guitar. It was cold out, but the fire raging in front of you did a sufficient job at keeping you toasty, not that you needed it. Joel made you feel plenty warm just by existing.

“You feelin’ sleepy?” he asked over the music. He must’ve caught your heavy eyelids attempting to close. You decided it would be best not to lie, the appeal of the bed and mountain of blankets to keep you warm responsible for keeping you honest.

“Yeah,” you croaked, nodding your head against his shoulder. Joel flattened his palm over the strings to quiet the music before standing up and walking it back into the house. You stood too, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder as you watched him return to put the fire out.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” he reminded.

“I want to,” you argued. He smiled at the dying embers, mumbling an okay.

You waited with him until the fire was completely ashed out, his arms wrapping around your waist to walk you inside. You carefully tiptoed through the house as to not wake Tommy and Sarah. The only sound in the entire house was the creak of the stairs beneath your feet as you padded up the stairs with Joel following at your heels.

“You gonna be grossed out if I don’t shower until the mornin’? I’m so tired—“

“As long as you’re okay with me being too tired for anything sexy tonight,” you replied from your side of the bed as you climbed in.

“We’ll do both in the mornin’ instead, how ‘bout that?” You smiled and nodded at him as he stripped down to his briefs and climbed into bed beside you. You guided him to turn his back to you so that you could hold him for a while, your hands rubbing and kneading at the tension in his back. “Mm, love you baby.”

“I love you,” you whispered back, continuing your massaging right up until you drifted asleep behind him, your hands hugged tight to his chest.

This was rest. This was peace.

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[tilebytiles]

settle for a draw - a.t.

summary: you didn't expect to meet a cowboy. you didn't expect to fall in love with him, either. word count: 5.5k warnings: age gap (reader is 20, alex is 25) a/n: im not the only one who sees tbhc alex as a cowboy ..... right </3

you shouldn't have been so surprised to see the figure approaching your parents' farm, riding his trusty steed and kicking up dust as he approached. you lived on a farm, for crying out loud. you knew the rural life was one a lot of people chose; the countryside was beautiful, for one, but it also offered the perfect chance to get away from it all. none of that stopped you from practically gaping as who you could only assume to be a cowboy approached the front gates.

okay, maybe you were stereotyping by calling him a cowboy, but he certainly looked the part. one hand was firmly clamped down on his hat, preventing it from being swept away by the wind, and the other clutched the reins, guiding his horse forward with practiced ease. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned and muscled forearms, and the undone buttons of his shirt offered you a sliver of his chest, the gold chain around his neck jostling with each movement.

you were content to stare (ogle), but your father came up beside you on the front porch and clicked his tongue. "should go see what he wants," he said.

you looked over at him. "me?" he nodded. "but you said —"

"y/n, if he tries anything with you while i’m standin' right here, i’m gonna rip him a new one and make sure he sees god."

you father had a funny way of showing how much he loved you.

you descended the steps and hitched your skirts up, rushing over to the front gate right as the dashing stranger slowed his horse to a stop, gently petting its mane. he looked down at you and tipped his hat politely. "how do you do?" his voice was smooth like velvet and deep, reaching the sort of vocal depths that made your stomach tingle.

"i’m fine, thank you," you said softly, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. "can i ask what you're doing here?"

"ah ..." he released the reins to dip his hand into the bag attached to the saddle, pulling out a rolled-up sheet of paper and handing it to you over the gate. you unfurled it and observed the printed colors, taking note of the hastily scribbled markings, presumably by his hand. it was a map. as you looked over it, he said, "been travelin' for a few days and decided it was best to take a rest. i’m low on supplies, and i wanted t' see if you could help me out any."

you looked back up at him. your family had never housed anyone outside of your relatives before, but you didn't see why you couldn't accommodate this gentleman. granted, you'd only spoken to him for ... a minute, max, but he seemed nice enough. plus, there was a spare bedroom in your house, and your mother was always guilty of making too much food ... you undid the latches and pulled the gate open, producing a thunderous creak. you really needed to oil the hinges soon. the stranger smiled at you, taking the map when you offered it back to him, and stuffed it back into his satchel before swinging one of his legs over and sliding off his horse. he was taller than you, but not by too much. you led him to the front porch, where your father still stood, and asked, "papa, can he stay for a few days?"

your father eyed the supposed cowboy for a few long, long moments before finally sighing and nodding. "you better stay away from my daughter," he said, pointing his finger rather threateningly at the man.

the man was at least smart enough to nod quickly. "of course, sir. i wouldn't ever think o' trying anythin' with her."

your father slowly nodded in approval before turning to head back into the house, presumably to update your mother on the situation. you watched the door shut, then gestured for the man to follow as you led him around to the back of the house, where the stables were situated. if he was content to remain in silence as you opened one of the stall doors so he could lead his horse inside, you had other plans. "what’s your name?"

he glanced at you for a second as he led his horse into the stall, releasing its reins once it was inside. "alex."

"alex ... ?"

"turner."

"that's a funny last name."

he cocked an eyebrow, following you as you picked up a nearby bucket to fill the trough in the stall with water from the pump behind your house. "well, what's yours?"

"l/n." you dropped the bucket into the grass and began working the pump, your brows scrunching together with exertion.

he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement. "i could argue that's no better than mine."

"i never said it was."

"you got a first name, miss l/n?"

"y/n." once the bucket was adequately filled, you lifted it up (trying to ignore the way your arms already wanted to give out) and hauled it back to the stall alex’s horse was in. "how come you're going to the mountains?"

he watched as you poured the water into the trough — it only filled it up about halfway. silently, he gestured for the bucket, and you hesitated before handing it to him. he headed for the water pump, but you remained by the stall, leaning against the wooden beam that reached up to the stable ceiling. "i got some friends up there," he said, speaking louder so you could hear him. "plan to stay a week or two with 'em, then head back home."

"it’ll take you a couple more days to get there."

"i know. that’s why i’m restin' for a few days."

you immediately noticed how much faster he was than you at filling the bucket up. you wanted to be surprised, but you knew you couldn't — he was a skilled rider, and if he was a cowboy, he likely had multiple horses. he knew what he was doing, and his muscular arms hinted at years of practiced motions such as these. he lifted the full bucket with ease, too, as if it was little more than a bundle of feathers. you wondered if he was showing off, only holding it with one hand while you'd needed two. "what’s your horse's name?"

he stepped past you to pour the water into the trough. "lizzie."

you eyed the horse for a few moments. yeah, she looked like a lizzie. "she’s pretty."

he smiled at that — a small smile, but one nonetheless. "d'ya wanna pet her?"

you blinked. "can i?"

he set the bucket down outside the stall and pushed the stall door shut, nodding at you as he did so. "she won' bite, if that's what you're worried about."

you stepped up to the stall door and slowly reached your hand out, letting your fingers brush against the top of her nose. in response to your fleeting caress, lizzie leaned her head forward, her eyes fluttering shut — a silent encouragement. you gave her a more confident pat on her head, then ran your hand along her mane, marveling at how smooth the hairs were. she truly was a stunning horse.

beside you, alex was still smiling; you could see it in your periphery. you turned your head to look at him while still offering lizzie affection. "what?"

he shrugged. "i dunno, 's just always nice t' see people interactin' with her. she’s a real attention seeker, y'know. don’t be too nice t' her, or she'll never leave you alone."

that made you laugh. "is that how you ended up with her?"

he nodded, reaching his own hand out to scratch under Lizzie's chin. "found her near my farm a few years back. poor girl was shiverin' to death — looked like she hadn't eaten in a while, either. i gave her some food an' before i knew it, she wouldn't stop nuzzlin' me, demandin' attention. i didn't see the harm in bringin' in one more horse."

"how many do you have?"

"countin' her, five."

five? your family only had two. maybe your cowboy theory wasn't so far off. speaking of ... "are you a cowboy?"

amusement immediately engraved itself into his features. he opened his mouth to answer, but right as he did, your mother's voice sounded from the back door of your home. "y/n!" she called. "time for dinner! bring your friend, too!"

beside you, alex snorted. "i’m your friend, am i?"

you just rolled your eyes and motioned for him to follow as you left the stables.

as soon as you stepped past the threshold of the back door, the smell of herbs filled your nostrils, urging you into the kitchen to find the source. your mother had just finished plating and was setting a pot down on the stove when you appeared in the doorway, alex in tow. she looked over at the both of you and smiled. “c’mon, sit down,” she urged, gesturing towards the dining table. you were both quick to acquiesce — you were hungry, and alex was starving.

your father appeared and sat across from alex, your mother sitting across from you. you picked up your cutlery and began to cut into the chicken breast on your plate; the sounds of forks and knives clinking against plates, along with glasses being set down on the table, filled the room. your mother’s cooking was divine, as always, and you were content to sit in silence and devour everything on your plate. your father, however, had other plans, and after wiping the crumbs from his mouth, said, “i saw john’s boy in town today.”

your ears perked up. “julian?”

he nodded. “spoke to him some, too. john’s lookin’ to sell one of his horses. i was thinkin’ to pay him a visit tomorrow.”

your mother, not wanting alex to feel left out, asked him, “how many horses do you have?”

“five, ma’am,” alex said.

“what’s your name, anyway, boy?” your father asked. you wanted to kick him under the table for the way he said it.

“alex turner, sir. my farm’s ‘bout a three-day trip from here.”

“three days? what the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“goin’ to the mountains, sir, to stay with some friends o’ mine.”

your father simply nodded and stuffed a forkful of roasted potatoes into his mouth. you looked over at alex and asked, "do you think you could help me with some chores after dinner?"

"now, y/n," your mother said, "alex is probably tired from all the ridin' he's done."

"no, ma'am, it's no problem." alex smiled softly at you, the kind of smile that made your stomach feel light. "i’ll help you."

you returned his smile. "thank you."

after dinner, you helped your mother clear the table, get the leftovers into containers that went into the fridge, and wash the dishes. once you were finished in the kitchen, you headed out into the back with alex in tow. "we have to make sure everything's locked up," you explained as you walked, "and set the traps for the night."

"gotcha." you were surprised when he didn't question what the traps were for, but you quickly reminded yourself he had a farm of his own; he probably set traps, too.

while you set about making sure the stables, barn, henhouse, and pens were all locked, alex worked on the traps. somehow, he knew exactly what to do without you telling him, and as you passed him on your way to the henhouse, your brows furrowed. "how do you know how to set them?"

he looked up at you from where he was sat in the grass. "i have these traps on my farm. they’re the cheapest an' the most convenient."

"oh." now you felt a bit silly for asking.

once you were both finished, you made your way back inside, making sure to lock the back door behind you. while you'd helped your mother in the kitchen, she'd told you she'd already made up one of the guest bedrooms for alex to stay in, so you led him upstairs and down the hall, stopping in front of the last room on the right. "my room's right across the hall," you said, looking up at him, "so if you need anything, just let me know."

"okay." he smiled at you. "thanks, y/n. have a good night."

"you too, alex." you watched as he stepped into the bedroom and flashed you one last smile before shutting the door.

•••••

by the time morning came in the form of rays of light filtering through the window and incessant bird calls from nearby trees, you had forgotten alex was staying for a few days, not just last night. in fact, you’d nearly forgotten about alex entirely, resulting in you letting out a yelp when the door to guest bedroom across the hall creaked open to reveal a human figure. a ghost? no one had stayed in that bedroom since your relatives came for the holidays. your house was haunted, you needed to tell your parents —

“y/n?” the sound of alex’s voice was like a lighthouse in the storm, clearing the dark clouds that obscured your vision. no ghost — just the man you thought was a cowboy. you made a note to ask him about that again later.

“oh …” you cleared your throat, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the doorway of your own room. “hey.”

he cocked an eyebrow at you and leaned against his doorway, stuffing his hands into his pockets. he still wasn’t dressed, you noticed. he was like you and ate before getting ready for the day. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

you stared at him, opening your mouth to respond and closing it again when you had nothing to say. finally, you looked away and mumbled, “i forgot you were here.”

he barked out a laugh at that. “did you now? guess i scared ya, huh? sorry ‘bout that.”

you didn't say a word and quickly headed for the stairs.

you saw your mother setting plates on the dining table, but your father was nowhere to be found. confused, you asked, “where’s papa?”

“he went to go talk to john ‘bout his horse, remember?”

oh. no, you didn’t remember.

breakfast went by quickly, with neither you nor alex saying much. once you were done eating, you went back upstairs to get dressed, then headed outside to tend to your morning chores. your first stop — the henhouse.

you set down the wicker basket you’d brought with you on the ground and hauled the sack of chicken feed up into your arms, grunting with the effort. you did an awkward little waddle around the yard, scattering feed as you went. once you were satisfied with the coverage, you set the sack back down by the henhouse, then picked your wicker basket back up. you undid the locking mechanism and opened the henhouse doors, immediately greeted with a cacophony of clucks. “good morning to you, too,” you hummed, watching as the hens headed down the wooden ramp in a single file line.

as you poked your head inside, examining their nests, you heard a voice behind you. “any luck today?” alex.

you straightened up and deposited the few eggs you’d found into the basket. “just a few,” you said, looking up at him. “what are you doing out here?”

he shrugged, watching as one of the hens pecked at his boot. “i was gonna see if ya wanted t’ take lizzie for a ride once you were done.”

you smiled at him. “i’d love to.”

his gaze snapped up to meet yours, and he returned your smile. “d’you need any help?”

“actually, yeah …”

with alex’s help, you were able to get the rest of your chores done with ease. having someone help you made it all go by much faster, and you were already dreading the day he’d have to leave. maybe you would need to remind your father of the idea he’d had of hiring a farm hand.

you stood and watched as he opened the stall door, stepping inside to get the saddle and reins back onto lizzie. “is she the feisty type?”

he snorted. “hell no. she’s a real sweetheart.”

you stepped aside so he could lead lizzie out of the stall and followed behind him as he took her out of the stables. the two of you (three, technically) headed for the forest behind your house; it was your idea to take the unofficial path you’d trekked with your horse a number of times before. you came to a stop outside the tree line, and alex held his hand out to you. you knew you didn’t need help getting onto lizzie’s back, and you knew alex probably knew that too, but you took his hand anyway, hauling yourself up onto the horse and clutching the front of her saddle to steady yourself. alex hopped on behind you, his chest almost touching your back as he reached around you to grab the reins. you knew the close contact couldn’t be helped, but that didn’t stop you from blushing at the proximity.

he tapped the side of his boot against lizzie’s side, urging her into an idle trot as he directed her into the forest. the scene was like something out of a fantasy novel: a couple of downed trees lined the path, covered in overgrown moss; you could make out the occasional cluster of mushrooms; and sunlight filtered down through the trees branches overhead, casting the path you were navigating in an otherworldly glow. you were half expecting fairies to start whizzing by. behind you, alex let out a low whistle. “this sure is pretty.”

you nodded. “i like coming out here when i can with my horse.”

“and what’s ‘er name?”

“it’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.

that only piqued his curiosity. “embarrassin’? how could it be embarrassin’?”

you sucked in a breath before quickly muttering, “twilightsparkle.”

“sorry?” his knee bumped against the back of your thigh; whether intentionally or not, you didn’t know. “you’re gonna have t’ repeat that one for me.”

“twilight sparkle.”

silence followed.

and then, in possibly the most mortifying outcome, he guffawed. “twilight sparkle?”

“i got her when i was a child,” you said defensively. “i wasn’t exactly a name aficionado.”

“yeah, yeah, okay,” he chuckled. “ain’t that one of the … oh, what’s that show —“

“my little pony,” you mumbled.

you could feel him nodding behind you. “yeah, my little pony. you liked it when you were young, then?”

you nodded. suddenly, you thought it wouldn’t be so bad if a giant hole opened up in the ground and swallowed you. “twilight sparkle was my favorite character, so when my parents got me my own horse, it felt fitting. i call her twilight for short.”

“just twilight is less embarrassin’ than throwin’ the sparkle on.”

“you don’t have to keep rubbing it in, you know.”

“sorry, sorry.” he chuckled again. “definitely not the worst thing you coulda named ‘er, though.”

you rose an eyebrow and looked at him over your shoulder. “there are worse things?”

“lot worse.”

“like what?”

he grew silent, his expression turning to one of contemplation as he mulled it over. “one o’ my friends in the mountains is like you — got a horse when he was a kid. he named ‘im, uh … what’s the full thing …” another few seconds of silent thought, and then he smiled. “armageddon the destroyer. the third. dunno where the first two came from.”

it took every last bit of restraint you had to not burst into giggles. “armageddon the destroyer the third?”

he nodded. “he’s still got that damn horse, too. likes to just call him destroyer now.”

“which friend of yours is this?”

“matt helders. if ya ever get to meet ‘im, don’t tell him i told you all this. he’ll throw me off the nearest mountain.”

you didn’t think you ever would meet him, but you made a mental note to keep this story to yourself if you did.

the three of you (it was only fair to count lizzie, you thought) continued down the path, falling into a tranquil silence. you pet lizzie’s mane and occasionally scratched behind her ears, eliciting a sound that you assumed was her way of showing appreciation.

abruptly, you asked, “are you a cowboy?”

there was a pause. “you asked that yesterday.”

“yeah, and you didn’t get to answer.”

“hm …” he sighed. “i certainly look the part, don’t i?”

“yeah.”

“i guess technically, yeah, although, er, i don’t really go around callin’ myself one.”

that was fair, you supposed. “so is it, like, a generational thing?”

“yeah. my dad was one, his dad was one, so on and so forth … the farm life’s the only thing i’ve ever known.”

“do you like it?”

“like it?” he snorted. “i wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing.”

you were going to be sad to see alex go.

•••••

“i’m taking a bath,” you called down the stairs.

there was a beat of silence, then your mother called back, “okay!”

it was the night before alex would be leaving. he’d been an incredibly helpful guest; he’d always helped with chores without having to be asked, and your father thought him especially helpful because he kept you out of his hair whenever you got bored. you’d been taken out on lizzie a number of times, told dozens of stories from alex’s childhood and adulthood, and he’d even played songs for you on the acoustic guitar your father owned but never used. for the first time in years, probably, it’d gone a day without collecting dust.

you shut the door to the bathroom and stepped over to the tub, making sure to plug the drain before turning the faucet on and watching as the water began to rain down. as you waited, your thoughts drifted back to alex — not just the stories he’d shared or the skill with which he’d played your father’s guitar, but the way he made you feel. you didn’t really like it; for one, you weren’t used to feeling that way about people, but you also knew nothing could ever come out of it. he was going off to the mountains to see his friends, and after that, you’d probably never see him again. he was always destined to just be a blip in your world. plus, you felt incredibly silly for feeling anything at all, considering it’d only been a few days. maybe you just needed to talk to people more often …

once the tub was filled, you turned the faucet off and stripped out of your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. you stepped into the tub and sank down into the warm water, letting out a sigh of relief; it was an instant balm to your aching bones. you closed your eyes, content to think of literally anything, but your brain kept wandering back to alex. his perfect eyes, his perfect smile, his perfect beard and perfect chest and perfect arms and perfect legs and perfect ass that you had unashamedly stared at once. okay, maybe you were ashamed now, but at the time, you'd had to pinch your arm just to get yourself to stop staring like an idiot. you were hopeless.

you had seen him shirtless once. on one of the days where there was too much work and it was too hot to do it all. you were convinced you were going to explode when you saw him, chest and abs bared and sweating in the summer heat. he was probably used to being shirtless in weather like that, but that didn't mean you were prepared to see it. when he'd seen you gawking like a fool, he'd apologized and offered to put his shirt back on, but you'd told him it was okay and that he didn't have to under the guise of not wanting him to overheat. deep down, though, you wanted to be able to ogle him, just for a little longer.

were you only physically attracted to him? that thought haunted you like an unseen phantom as you worked shampoo into your wet hair. of course he was attractive — he had the perfect body, in your eyes — but was that the only reason he appealed to you? you didn't think it was; you knew it would be a lot easier to get over his absence if that was just the case.

he would be gone tomorrow morning.

that became your mantra for the rest of your bath, and you kept repeating it to yourself as you dried off, emptied the tub, and got dressed for bed. he would be gone tomorrow morning. you left the bathroom and headed down the hall, stepping into your room. he would be gone tomorrow morning. you shut your door and let yourself succumb to the warmth and comfort of your bed, making sure to turn your bedside lamp off before drifting off to sleep. he would be gone tomorrow morning.

“hey. y/n. wake up.”

“huh?” you forced your eyes open and stared up at the partially illuminated figure that hovered above you. "alex?" you mumbled. "what are you doing here?"

"i wanna show you somethin'," he whispered.

"it’s late. can’t you show me in the morning?"

"nope." he shook his head for emphasis. "gotta show ya now."

you felt like a parent arguing with their child.

you forced yourself out of bed and slipped your shoes on at his request before following him out of your room and downstairs. you were expecting to go out the front door, but he led you through the back, making sure to be extra quiet to avoid waking your parents until you were both outside. you were both still in your pajamas, and you were still trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes. you followed him into the forest behind your house, confusion settling across your features when he suddenly deviated from your usual path and led you to a different part of the forest. what the hell was he doing?

eventually, he stopped, and you nearly crashed into him. "we’re here."

"you dragged me outside in the middle of the night for —" the words died out in your throat as you realized what you were seeing.

you’d never gone this deep into the forest before, so you had no idea a scene like this even existed. the trees opened up in a wide circle, revealing a little pond surrounded by different stones. the grass was soft as it brushed against your ankles, and flowers were scattered all across the ground, practically beaming up at you. you felt like you'd stepped into some pocket dimension.

"come on." alex nudged you and stepped further into the clearing, and it was at that moment that you became aware of the blanket tucked under his left arm.

your brows furrowed. "what’s the blanket for?"

you watched as he laid it out in the grass, making sure it was neat and straight and there weren't any rocks hiding under it for your body to find before straightening up and smiling softly at you. "stargazin'."

oh. you weren't annoyed at him for waking you up anymore.

you walked over and sat down on the blanket, removing your shoes and setting them off to the side before stretching yourself out. you stared up at the sky, mystified by the sheer number of stars you could see. "it’s so pretty," you breathed.

"i was hopin' you'd like it."

you turned your head to look at him as he laid beside you. "did you find this just for me?"

he nodded, his smile turning a bit sheepish. "i’d sorta stumbled on it the other day when i was out here. i’ve been meanin' to show it to you."

"thank you, alex."

"ah, don't mention it." he turned his head to look up at the stars, and you stared at him for a beat too long before doing the same.

silence consumed the both of you, broken by the occasional chirp or drone of some nearby insect. you didn't know what possessed you to shatter the silence and say anything, but after a few minutes, you quietly confessed, "i don't want you to go."

it took a couple of seconds for alex to respond. "why not?"

"i don't know." you crumpled up the fabric of your shirt between your fingers. "the last few days have been really nice, and i don't really want all this to end."

"i can't say i’m particularly fond o' goin', either," he mumbled, letting out a sigh afterwards. "i’d like to see my friends, of course, but ... y'know."

"yeah."

another minute passed, and then he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as his elbow dug into the blanket. "y/n, can i ask you somethin'?"

"you just did, technically," you said, looking up at him.

he rolled his eyes. "okay, smartass. you know what i mean."

"go ahead."

"have you ever ..." he trailed off, his expression growing pensive as he searched for the right words. "you ever left home before?"

you blinked in surprise. you weren't sure what you'd been expecting him to ask, but it wasn't that. "uh ... no. why?"

he shrugged, as if to brush it off and act nonchalant, but you could tell he was hiding something. "just thought i’d ask."

"you’re a bad liar, alex."

"why would i be lyin'?"

"i don't know. why are you lying?"

he sighed. "i guess ... i dunno. it’d be nice if i could bring ya with me. i think you'd like my friends."

oh. there was that fluttering sensation in your stomach. "you want me to go with you?"

"it’d be nice if you could," he corrected. "way too late for that to get worked out. plus, your parents might kill me. or your dad would. your mom's a real sweetheart."

"she does hate killing bugs," you mused. you thought on what he'd just said. "why would you want me to go with you?"

he looked off at the pond, growing silent as he tried to figure out how to say whatever was on his mind. you waited patiently, and eventually, your patience paid off. "i think i’m growin' attached to you."

you stared at him. "what?"

he looked down at you. "i said it in english."

you wanted to slap him. "what do you mean, you're —"

"i like ya, y/n. as in, i think you're cute, and maybe i wanna kiss ya."

if you were going to explode when you saw him shirtless, you were sure you were about to turn into a nuclear bomb.

"oh," you managed.

he rose an eyebrow. "oh? is that it?"

"well, i mean —" you sat up and turned your head to look at him. "i don't think ... i’d mind it if you kissed me," you mumbled.

he stared at you, his eyes widening minutely before going back to their original size. now it was his turn to say, "oh." he cleared his throat and sat up fully, looking down at the blanket you were sat on. he eventually looked back up at you. "so ... can i —"

you cut him off by crashing your lips against his.

it took him no time at all to react. his hand went to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as your mouths slotted together perfectly. you didn't want this moment to end, but too soon was he pulling away to stare down at you. "christ," he breathed. he dipped his head down to kiss you again, and again, and again. the onslaught of pecks made you giggle. your blood was practically singing in your veins.

when he finally stopped kissing you, you smiled up at him. "i didn't realize cowboys were such softies."

he scowled, although you could tell there was no real malice behind it. "what, am i supposed to act all mean an' tough around a cute girl?"

now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "yeah, yeah. call me cute again, and i’ll get a big head.”

"you'd still look cute if your head was the size of the moon," he hummed, leaning in to kiss you one last time.

you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed yourself closer to him, listening to his heart as it thrummed against his ribcage. "the next time you go to visit your friends, you should take me with you," you mumbled.

he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head and murmured, "it’s a deal, sweetheart."

"and i promise i won't bring up armageddon the destroyer the third in front of matt."

he let out a breathless chuckle and pinched your side, making you yelp. "if you do, i’m leavin' you up there to deal with him."

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

[ilovebubblegum]

Drive (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Summary: Pov: Joel comforting you after a bad day at work.

Words count: 1.4k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 9 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

It had been a few days since that passionate kiss on the night of Sarah’s birthday and you hadn’t had the right time to talk about it with Joel. 

"Hey." Joel hung his jacket on the coat rack and put the keys in the key bowl.

"Hey.." You were sitting on the couch with baby Sarah on your chest and turned your head to see him.

"You okay?" Joel was concerned as you sounded languid.

"Yeah." You sighed and wiped your face. 

"You sick?" He asked again.

"No." You sighed again. 

"You wanna talk? Anythin'?" He sat beside you on the couch and faced you. 

"Just a bad day at work." You finally explained why.

"What happened? Talk to me." He put his hand on your shoulder.

"Someone yelled at my face this morning." You started sobbing. 

You were not usually like this but maybe because you were PMS-ing so you were more sensitive. 

"Why did she yell at you?" He tucked your hair behind your ear.

"He." You hyperventilated.

"Why did he yell at you?" He repeated the question.

"I don't know. He suddenly came to me and lashed out. He was complaining about how the muffin wasn't baked good enough." You were mumbling as you cried but Joel understood what you were saying.

"He's a jerk." Joel got annoyed. 

"Do you remember his face?" He asked.

You nodded as you pouted your lips. 

"Call me if he comes there again. I'll kick his ass." Joel wiped your tears away from your cheeks. 

You laughed with tears on your face, snorting your snots. Sarah was awakened by your laugh and snort. Then she raised her head and looked at you. Her small hands cupped both of your cheeks. She babbled. It was like she was trying to comfort you too. You laughed at Sarah’s actions. 

"You're not gonna do that." You snorted again and looked at Joel.

"Oh! You think I won't?" Joel gave you a tissue then crossed his arms. 

"Uh-huh." You nodded as you blew your nose. 

"You'll see." Joel caressed your head. 

You giggled. You were thankful you had Joel and Sarah to comfort you. You had been alone for a while and you didn't have a shoulder to cry on whenever you needed one. 

"Thank you, Joel." You smiled at him.

"I'm always here for you, darlin'." He cupped your cheeks and rubbed it with his thumb.

“Sarah’s your sidekick too.” He cooed at his daughter.

"Do you want to go for a drive?" He suddenly asked.

"Drive?" You tilted your head.

"Come on. Get your jacket." He grabbed your wrist. 

"I'll take her." Joel took Sarah from your arms and brought her to the car. 

Joel put Sarah in the car seat at the back seat while you sat on the passenger seat. 

"So, where are we going?" You turned your head to Joel. 

"You'll see when you get there." He smirked as he drove with only one hand on the steering wheel.

It was late at night and the streets were empty. You opened the car window, resting your arms there and breathed into the air. Enjoying the peaceful vacant streets irradiated by the street lights. Joel looked at you and smiled. He was happy to be able to comfort you on your dark days. 

"Where are we?" You asked him as he parked the car.

He brought you to a hill where you had never been. But you could see the beautiful view in front of you. 

"Come on. Let's get out of the car." He turned off the car. 

"We can't leave Sarah alone in the car." You refused him.

"We're not gonna be far. We'll open the window for her. She's gonna be fine." Joel insisted.

"Okay, fine." You caved in.

"It's beautiful, Joel." You breathed in the air and closed your eyes. He smiled.

"How do you know this place?" You turned to him. 

"It's my city." He crossed his arms proudly. 

"Come here. Sit." Joel invited you to sit next to him on the car hood.

You walked towards him in fast but small steps cutely. You were happy. He chuckled. 

"Thank you." You rested your head on his shoulder. 

Joel flinched. 

"Anytime, darlin'." 

You sighed as you let out all your stress that ruined your day.

"Can you answer me a question?" Joel suddenly asked you.

"Where do fruits go on vacation?" You were nervous of what he would ask you but turned out it was just another dad joke.

"What?" You chuckled.

 "Pear-is!" He laughed at his own joke.

"That is so stupid!" You laughed. 

"But you laughed!" He pointed his index finger at you.

"I did but it's so stupid." You shook your head and rested it on his shoulder again.

The two of you laughed for a few minutes while enjoying the beautiful night view from up the hill.

"Thank you, Joel." 

"You know you can always find me whenever you need anythin', right?" He asked.

You sat straight and pulled your head away from him to face him. 

"You're always there for me. And I want to always be there for you too. If you let me." He gave you his signature puppy eyes. 

"Joel, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met." Your eyes were getting teary.

He smiled then there was a moment of silence. 

"About the other night..that night..When you kissed me there.." You pointed to the car.

"Yeah?" Joel turned his body facing you and leaned closer. 

You just got his hopes up.

"Don't ruin this." You said inside your heart. 

You took a deep breath in and a deep breath out before you said the words.

"I think I'm ready." You looked him through his eyes.

"Do you still feel the same way towards me?" You asked him as he didn't speak a word.

Joel suddenly took your hand and kissed the back of your hand. You held your breath.

"My feelin's never changed." 

You were finally able to breathe again as he said that.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n). I still do.” Joel leaned closer to you.

“I’m in love with you too.” You kissed his hand back.

“So..Can I kiss you now?” He chuckled.

“You don’t have to ask.” You smiled and you kissed him first.

He kissed you back passionately. Cupping each other's jaw, feeling each other’s lips and tongue. The two of you let out all of the tension you had been holding for a while. You had kissed Joel the night on Sarah’s birthday but it was only for a second so this kiss was intense. Full of smooching sounds. This was the moment that the both of you had been waiting for.

*baby cried*

“Uh-oh. Someone is jealous.” You stopped the kiss as the two of you turned your heads to see Sarah crying in the car.

“I’m coming baby.” You jumped from the car hood to get Sarah.

But before you walked away, Joel grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. 

“We’re not” *peck* “done yet.” He smiled and gave you a few pecks in between. 

You just smirked at him and went to get Sarah. You took her to your arms and cradled her. 

“You’re jealous, huh?” You bounced her.

“Here, take her.” You passed her to Joel.

“I’m sorry I made you jealous, babygirl.” Joel held Sarah and kissed her forehead.

“You’re always daddy’s number one.” Joel looked at you and smirked. 

“Am I number two?” You joked.

Joel shrugged. He left you hanging like that. But you were sure you were his number two. So you just laughed.

To be continued…

Taglist:

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was pacing endlessly just down the hall from the heavy oak door that you were on the other side of. This “leader” of Hilltop, Gregory, had requested you specifically to speak to about brokering some sort of trade deal. Daryl didn’t like it. He could read what was on Gregory���s mind when he looked at you or Maggie. It had a rolling boil cooking away in his chest and he was wondering if his face was red from the turbulent heat he seemed to be generating. Finally, the door opened and you stepped out. Daryl could see immediately that you were uncomfortable or pissed or... most likely, both.

“Hey,” he greeted you urgently. “Ya okay? What happened?” His brow was heavy over his eyes, casting the blue of the irises into shadow, deepening their color.

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t do this. Maggie is going to have to talk to him. If I stayed in there a minute longer, I was going to punch him across the face. Guy was giving me the fucking creeps and he seems to have the moral compass of pond scum.”

“Did he do somethin’? The hell did he say to ya?” 

You looked up at Daryl’s expression again, surprised by the fire in his voice. 

“Seriously, do I need to go in there and rearrange his fuckin’ face? I had a bad feelin’ ‘bout that guy since he asked us to fuckin’ wash up...” he drawled.

You hesitated, wondering if you should even tell him what had you so uncomfortable. He might kick in the door and beat the shit out of the guy from the look on his face. “He just was—he was more interested in hitting on me than talking about a deal and I don’t have the patience for it. Maggie will do better than me... though I feel bad sending her in there.”

“I’m gonna have a fuckin’ talk with this guy,” Daryl growled. He turned and started heading toward Gregory’s office with a scowl on his face that clearly suggested this wasn’t just going to be just a talk... 

“Daryl! Daryl—stop.” You grabbed his arm and he stopped in his tracks as if he’d hit a forcefield. “Just—it’s okay. It’s fine. Let’s just go get some air, okay?” He still hesitated, his hands clenched into fists. “Please?”

He caved at the pleading of your voice. “Fine,” he sighed heavily. “But if he does anythin’, if he says anymore shit to ya that makes ya uncomfortable—ya just come tell me, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

You gave him a fond half-smile despite the situation. “You’ll rearrange his face?”

“If I gotta...” “Come on,” you said, tilting your head toward the outside. Daryl followed you out into the sunshine and stayed close beside you as if to make sure Gregory couldn’t get another word in with you.

Prompt: “He seems to have the moral compass of pond scum.”

[pascalscoffin]

Curvilínea

- Curvaceous - Requested by this lovely, lovely person

Full Pedro Masterlist

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. Smut(it’s not crazy descriptive): oral (f receiving); protected p in v (do whatever you want); vaginal fingering; Javi talks about your pussy in the third person (shut up). Curvy/Plus size!reader. Reader uses she/her pronouns, she and Javi are the same age. Reader understands and speaks Spanish a couple times (probably like once). Reader co-owns a bar rather than just being a bartender. Body Shaming warning!! (Please it’s so mean. I had to look it up I couldn’t even fathom something to say. I FEEL DIRTY) I’ll have them in italics or something. Javi being a gentleman. Violence (a couple punches). Mentions of past drug use/abuse. Mentions of ODing. Alcohol mentioned briefly. Physical description of after an OD.

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Co-owning a bar with your best friend wasn’t exactly your lifelong dream, though if you thought about it hard enough you didn’t ever have a “lifelong dream”. Sure when you were young you wanted to be a singer, an actor, a doctor, the president, a race car driver, a scientist, and a slew of other professions but the fascination with them never lasted long and you were hopping to the next ideal job faster than your parents could keep up.

But in college you met Lucy and Eloise, who would become two of your best friends. In your junior year, the three of discovered cocaine at a party, you and Eloise were more weekend or bi-weekend doers. Lucy, though, who’d grown up troubled and surrounded by the stuff, fell in head first. Lucy was always talking about the three of you opening up a bar together, naming it The Lucky Horseshoe, and living together in an apartment nearby.

And then that was the dream, you and Eloise stopped doing coke and fought to get and keep Lucy clean, which got more difficult with each relapse, until eventually Lucy went in over her head and you and Eloise found her face down in her own throw up.

After that, you and Eloise stuck true to your promise, saving up money and moving to Lucy’s hometown of Laredo, Texas to open the bar. She always talked about missing Laredo, so with her ashes, given as she didn’t have any family left besides the two of you, you went to Laredo and bought a small bar. Originally you were going to call it Lucy’s Horseshoe. But when you got the sign it had said Lucky Horseshoe, and considering that was what Lucy had wanted to name it, it stuck.

You and Eloise often worked together on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays since they were your busiest days of the week, one of you typically able to handle it during the week. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, drunk assholes were drunk assholes whether you owned the bar or not, they tended not to care if they were shitfaced enough. Which is why you were trying to politely tell this guy you weren’t interested, but he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Cmon, doll. When you gonna let me take you out, huh?” Don was a regular, every Friday at 8pm he came in and sat in the same stool until close, desperately trying to hit on you. “I don’t date patrons, Don. Besides, you’re drunk.” Don waved his hand at you with a grunt. “‘M tipsy. There’s a difference.” You made a face while you had your back turned, pouring him a glass of water and sitting it down. “Why don’t you drink some water and I’ll call you a cab.”

“Or c’n jus’ take me to your place. Show you a real good time.” You sighed heavily. “What’s the matter? You got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He scoffed, apparently finally agitated with your constant ‘no’s. “No- I don’t have a boyfriend-“ “girlfriend?” “No.” “Husband? Fiancé? Situationship? Anythin’ holdin’ ya down?”

“No, Don, I don’t.” “Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” Don scoffed and you rubbed your hand against your leg. “… I’m just not interested, Don? Okay? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, you’re a nice guy.. you’re just not my type.” Don leaned back and looked absolutely scandalized by the idea that you couldn’t possibly be interested in him.

“Seriously?” You opened your mouth but he stood up and cut you off. “I come here every god damn Friday, talk to you, try to be a nice fucking guy and take you out for a good time and I’m not your type?” His jaw clenched. “Y’know- I wouldn’t be so god damn picky if I couldn’t see my whole body when I looked in a fucking mirror. Fat bitch.” He ripped his jacket off his chair and turned around, immediately being cracked in the face, stumbling back and then getting hit again, actually falling out this time as OH’s echoed around.

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Javier had decided, since he’s been back home for about a year and he’s now settled back in, that tonight he’d go out and try to dip his toes back into the dating pool. There were no high hopes, really, tonight was mostly just to go out and get a feel for what the pool actually looked like. When Chucho suggested a new bar called Lucky Horseshoe, Javier had been skeptical, thinking maybe it was one of his dad’s old guy bars.

He was surprised to see a nicely decorated bar with great music and even better alcohol lined up behind the bar. He’d looked around, contemplating sitting at a table before deciding he’d sit at the bar, and then there was the choice of sitting on the right of the bar or the left. After two minutes of staring at the bar he decided to sit on your side.

After he sat he took that time to look around and really get a feel for his surroundings, the place was nicely decorated and a look above the alcohol showed him different photos of you, the other bartender, and a third girl, the name Lucy was written in the middle of all the pictures and he imagined the other side of the bar looked the same, a closer look at the backsplash for the alcohol would show the same type of deal, photos of a pretty blonde girl, some photos had you and in the other bartender but most were different photos of just the girl, Lucy he guessed.

He hadn't been sitting there long when you'd strolled up to him, probably about a minute, he ordered a whiskey dry and then you were being called over by a guy who was definitely wasted and probably shouldn't have anymore drinks.

He was having a decent time, chatting up different women or talking about sports he couldn't care much for with guys that sat around him, just getting to know people rather than trying to get to know them. He’d picked up on the conversation a bit, keeping himself tuned in when he picked up on the guy’s persistence.

The guy barely had his insult out before Javier was standing up and walking over. He waited for him to turn around and immediately grabbed his collar with one hand, and hit him square in the nose with the other. He let go of his shirt and watched him stumble before hitting him again, watching him fall to the ground. “Fuck! Dude! I think you broke my fucking nose!” He yelled, blood pouring onto his shirt as he held his face.

“Someone should teach you how to speak to women.” Javier grabbed his collar and yanked him up. “What kind of idle-minded, pathetic Hijo de puta son of a bitch do you have to be to hit on a woman, and then talk shit about her body when she says no?” He growled, turning him and shoving him to the door, taking a step towards him as the kid, Javier could tell now he really was just some kid, probably just turned old enough to drink, way too boyish to go after a woman like you. He stumbled back a bit, holding his nose. “Now get the fuck out of here before I break more than your god damn nose.” He grabbed the guys blazer-gross-off the back of the chair he’d been sitting at and threw it in his face.

His friends, who were smart enough to stay out of the fight, helped their friend out of the bar, yelling that they’d just lost their business, though he figured it wouldn’t be missed very much. Javier found himself following behind them, standing just outside the door as he watched them get into their car and peel away.

He was just about to go back in, make sure you were alright, when he quite literally slammed into you just as you were stumbling out of the bar, holding in your own tears. "Shit- I'm sorry." You stepped away from him and he shook his head. "My fault, I wasn't paying much attention." He looked down at you and cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, npt looking him in the eye as you felt the tears start to well up. You always put. on a brave face when people talked about your body, pretended like it didn't bother you, you'd grown up with the comments so at this point you should be desensitized to them. Yet, still, the comments always bothered you, the backhanded compliments about your clothing from skinny female patrons who had frat boys hanging off their shoulders, "innocently" agreeing with their weekly snatch.

"I'm fine." He didn't seem to believe you, though, his brows furrowing before he gently grabbed your hand. "Come on." He guided you over to pnce of the benches outside the bar and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. You watched him curiously, waiting for him to say something as he put a cigarette between his lips and extended the pack for you to take one, you hesitantly took one and mumbled a soft thank you.

He didn't say anything, though, just put his pack away and lit the cigarette dangling between his lips before reaching his lighter out to light yours. Now that you were actually near him, silent, with no patrons keeping you from admiring him- he really was handsome. A prominent nose with laugh lines crinkling around his dark brown eyes as the flame of the lighter flickered in front of his face.

You looked away from him, though. Just because he punched a guy for body-shaming you, doesn't mean he's interested, he likely doesn't want you ogling him while he's just trying to smoke his cigarette. "Um... why did I have to... sit here?" You asked after a moment. He looked at you and shrugged. "Figured eventually you'd give up the lie and admit that you're not okay."

You blinked rapidly and looked over at him. "Excuse me?" He sighed and leaned forward a bit. "You're not okay." He shrugged a little. "You don't have to be, but... That guys a prick, alright? Shouldn't listen to him." You frowned a little as you pulled your cigarette from your lips, slowly exhaling the smoke from your lungs before letting out a soft laugh. "I don't even know your name and you expect me to just pour my heart out to you?"

You had to admit it seemed inticing, telling him everything that bothered you, because it felt like he wanted to listen, like he wanted you to tell him every little thing that entered your mind. "Javier Peña." You looked down at the hand thrusted towards you and looked back up at him before slowly taking it and telling him your name. He repeated it a time or two and the way it sounded on his tongue made the bottom of your stomach burn.

Peña... that name sounded familiar... "Is your dad Chucho?" You asked curiously, brows furrowed as he widened his eyes. ".. yes. Chucho is my dad." He chuckled. "Didn't realize he was on a first name basis." "Oh, yeah. Chucho's an angel." You laughed softly and sniffled. "So- you're the famous Javi he goes on and on about."

"God- he doesn't." "He does. You should meet mi hijo Javier, he always says." You laughed softly. "He's very proud of you, he loves you a lot." "Uh-huh. What else does he say about me?" You hummed softly. "Sorry, I've been sworn to secrecy." "Oh, have you?" "Oh, yeah. It was a whole thing." Javier snorted a little and shook his head. "Right. So.. he comes here a lot, then?" You nodded. "Definitely. i mean, you don't have to worry about him he really doesn't drink much, I think he just likes the company."

He nodded and took a drag from his cigarette, choking on it with your next sentence. "i also think he really likes talking you up." He coughed violently and looked at you with furrowed brows. "What?" You nodded. "Mhm. Always talking about what a good man you are, how him and your mama taught you how to properly treat a lady. He's had to tell Don off a time or two before." Huh... well played, Chucho.

The old man sure knew how to formulate a plan- and kill two birds with one stone. He knew Don would be there, knew he would bother you, and of course he knew his son would step in and save the day, and if you and Javier just so happened to hit off, then he could stop worrying so much about him.

"Mm I see." Javier nodded. "Well- thanks for letting him hang around." You shook your head with a laugh. "He's sweet, I was more than happy to keep him around." You said happily. Javier chuckled softly and nodded. "Still. Thank you."

You were quiet for a while, the two of you smoking your cigarettes as you glanced at Javier from the corner of your eye. "... thank you for what you did." Javier looked at you and shook his head. "Don't thank me. No one should be spoken to that way." You chewed on your lip. "I should be used to it now, really. I've heard shit like that so much..." "But it hurts anyway." He said softly, making you nod as you reached up to wipe your eye as tears started to slip again.

"Don't cry, mi diosa curvilínea." my curvaceous goddess. He whispered softly, reaching up to swipe under the opposite eye slowly. You laughed lightly and sniffled as you looked up at him. "Well Chucho was right about you being a real flatterer." Javier chuckled softly and tossed his cigarette to the side before taking yours and tossing it in the same direction. "I'm serious."

His other hand came up to cup both of your cheeks. "You shouldn't let a Pendejo like that make you upset. He's not worth it." He rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks. "A silly little boy who resorts to tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants. You're too much woman for him, anyway, he wouldn't know what to do with una diosa like yourself." You felt your cheeks warm up under his hands, a slow grin stretched across his face. "Now- do you think your friend would let you go for the night?"

"W-what?" Javier chuckled. "Would she let you leave? There's nto very many places open at this time of night but a woman such as yourself should be wined and dined- or at least dined." You laughed lightly. "Who says i wanna be 'wined and dined' by you?" You asked curiously.

Obviously you did, you really did, watching Javier knock out Don had started a stur in your belly and the longer you sat there with him the warmer it got, the tighter it pulled. But still, you couldn't just fall right in line, you didn't want him to think you were some kinda whore, especially not after Chucho's told you all kinds of admirable things about him.

Javier tilted his head a bit, his finger running down your cheek and along your bottom lip. "Do you?" He asked softly, his eyes searching over your face before settling on yours. You swallowed thickly and slowly started to nod. "I-I'll be right back." You stood up quickly and stumbled back towards the door, your cheeks burning as you spun around and went inside quickly, over to Eloise.

"Eloise. You know i love you and I would do the same thing for you in a heartbeat- can i please leave with that beautiful, beautiful man outside." Eloise looked up from the glass she was cleaning and widened her eyes. "You whore!" She gasped before looking around at the nearly empty bar. "I can totally handle this. Go, go, go. You deserve it- and I expect all the details tomorrow morning." You nodded rapidly. "Yes, obviously. Okay i have to go now thank you so much and wish me luck with Chucho's son."

As you were grabbing your coat and practically sprinting from the bar, you heard her screech. THAT'S CHUCHO'S SON?! When you stepped out you saw Javier looking at you with raised brows, chuckling softly. "So.. I'm famous around the bar?" You laughed and shrugged. "I told you, Chucho is very, very proud to have you as a son... as he should be."

Javier chuckled and shook his head a little as he started guiding you to his truck. "Whatever you say, Diosa." He looked at you curiously when you stopped. "What about my car?" You looked over towards the run down beamer and he chuckled. "It'll be fine here, I'll bring you back for it in the morning."

You were a little hesitant, your brain momentarily making you consider the fact that this man was very obviously capable, and that going off alone in a car with a man you didn't know was a very bad decision. But something about his eyes, his pouty lips, made you nod your head and smile at him. "Yeah I-I can just come back for it tomorrow." He nodded and guided you towards his truck, opening the passemger door for you to get in.

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The diner was small, warm enough you had to take off your jacket, but not so warm that you were sweating. Javi was sitting in front of you, his elbows pressed against the table. "So I know you're not from Laredo." You laughed and nodded.

"No. No I'm not." "So, where are you from, then?" He asked, you were waiting on your food so you didn't have to worry about a waiter coming over to take your orders. "Las Vegas." Javier's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Vegas? Really?" "Oh, yeah." “How was that?” “Not that exciting, honestly.” You laughed softly and he chuckled.

“Yeah I guess all the drunk gamblers get annoying.” “God and it’s worse if you’re a woman with tits.” You rolled your eyes. “I swear, men get drunk and they think every woman with a pulse wants-“ you blinked rapidly as if realizing you were shit talking men- to a man. “Sorry.”

Javier shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m guilty of the same- except usually the women I come onto actually are into me.” He chuckled softly. “Pretty easy to tell when a woman’s not interested- if you have a couple brain cells to rub together.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Think Laredo might be missing a few.” “Probably.” Javier laughed and nodded.

“So- Chucho suggested the bar but… didn’t say anything about it?” He shook his head. “Nope.” He chuckled. “Said it’d be a good scene for me to go to.” You hummed and nodded slowly. “Guess he was right.” He added. You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked up at him, chewing on your lip lightly. “Huh?”

“Good scene.” Javier chuckled and shrugged a little. “Minus the whole having to punch a guy.” He hummed. You opened your mouth and tilted your head. “I’m sorry I’m-I’m a little lost now.”

Javier laughed softly. “I went out because I’ve been back for almost a year and I still haven’t talked to anyone- female or otherwise.” “He thinks you’re lonely.” Javier shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” He sighed. “I have been a little lonely.”

You raised a brow. “Really?” He nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “My partner at work is… my only friend. As depressing as that sounds.” You blinked rapidly. “Oh… well I know how you feel. I don’t have many friends. Eloise and Chucho, really.” He nodded. “How come?”

You hummed and shrugged a little. “I guess I don’t… like most people honestly.” You laughed softly. “I can be around other people but eventually my social battery just runs out.” “But you’re a bartender.” You nodded. “You’d be surprised how little people actually pay attention to their bartender.” He hummed and nodded like he understood.

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You sat and talked with him for what must’ve been two hours, not leaving until the waitress came around to give you your bill and send you on your way so she could close up and go home. You’d gotten closer in the time you were there, Javier eventually moving to sit next to you on your side of the booth, playing with the ends of your hair or the collar of your shirt as you talked quietly with eachother.

And now, you and Javier were back at your apartment, both agreeing you’d rather finish your night somewhere his dad wouldn’t hear. Eloise had even texted you to say she’d stay the night with her girlfriend Cheyenne rather than going home when the bar closed.

You knew Javier was attracted to you at this point, hell you were just as attracted to him. But that didn’t stop the anxiety you felt building in your stomach as you sat on your couch, gripping a beer bottle tightly in your hands as Javier looked at you, leaned back against your couch. You weren’t ever really insecure about your size, but every once in a while the harsh words would get to you and you’d be left floundering for the confidence that once radiated.

“Come here, Diosa.” He said softly, holding his hand out to you. “You’re so far away. Me siento solo aquí.” I’m lonely over here. You felt your cheeks warm up and hesitated before grabbing his hand and sliding closer to him on the couch. “Are you… sure you-” “don’t be silly.” Javier chuckled softly and leaned forward to set his beer down before grabbing yours and sitting it down also.

“I’m not a little boy, Hermosa.” He turned to you and brought his knee up onto the couch so he could look at you head on. “You’re all woman.” He hummed happily and licked his lips slowly. “And I don’t shy away from a woman like you.” He kissed your cheek lightly, and then your neck. “Just more to love, hold, kiss.” He mumbled softly before bumping his nose against yours. “But if you’re not up to it we don’t have to do anything. Just sit here and talk.”

You looked up into his eyes and blinked rapidly, chewing on your bottom lip before you leaned in and kissed him quickly. He hummed, happily kissing you back as one hand cupped your cheek and the other curled around your back and pulled you closer to him.

It wasn’t long before you were laid back on your bed, looking up at Javier in nothing but your bra and panties as he ran his eyes over you. You felt yourself getting shy again, shifting and moving your hands to cover your stomach. Javier was quick to grab your wrists, though, gently tugging your hands above your head. “Don’t.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck before making his way down, stopping briefly to press kisses and slide his tongue along your stretch marks, making you shift and your face and neck heat up.

“Eres hermosa, Diosa, no necesitas cubrirte. Demasiado hermosa para eso.” You are beautiful, Diosa, you don't need to cover yourself. Too beautiful for that. He whispered as he got between your legs, looking up towards you as he slid your panties off. You swallowed thickly and mumbled a shy thank you as he tugged your panties off and tossed them to the side, groaning at the sight of you, wet and pretty and waiting. “Been wondering all night what she looked like- tasted like. Gonna let me taste, Diosa?” He looked up at you again, brown eyes big and pleading and how could you say no to that?

You gave him a rapid nod, shifting as you spread your legs further. “Please.” You whimpered softly, chewing on your lip as he grinned before he was diving down. He started with gentle kisses pressed to your labia before spreading them and pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyelids fluttered and your head fell back as you moaned softly.

You’d been with quite a few men, but it had been a while so you were feeling a little desperate. When his tongue reached out and slid through you, you gasped and moaned a little louder, tangling your fingers in his hair as he started massaging your clit with his tongue, moaning against you as his eyes closed.

He let go of your labia so they closed around his mouth as he sucked on your clit, one of his hands traveling down to prod lightly at your hole before guiding two of his fingers into you slowly. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened as you shuddered and moaned, pressing down on his fingers. “Javi..” you chewed on your lip as he started fucking you steadily with his fingers, his other hand coming up to play with your breast and twist your nipple.

He hummed against you, massaging your clit as he sucked on it, his hips pressing into the mattress as he started moaning. “Joder, qué bien sabes, Diosa. Tomando mis dedos tan bien, también.” Fuck, you taste so good, Diosa. Taking my fingers so well, too. He pulled away to speak, panting heavily as he pushed a third finger into you, licking his lips. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off with a loud moan when he dove back in, curling his fingers directly into your gspot this time, massaging the bundle of nerves as he continued licking and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck- Javi- Javi please.” You whimpered, tugging on his hair as you looked down at him, lip trembling. Javi hummed against you and pulled away again. “Please what, sweetheart? Hm?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he continued fucking you with his fingers.

“Necesito que me folles, Javi. Quiero tanto que me folles...” I need you to fuck me, Javi. I want you to fuck me so bad... you begged him, whimpering softly. “Please.”

Javi hummed softly and kissed your cheek gently. “You’re so pretty when you’re begging.” He teased, sliding up to kiss you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself, which wasn’t something you cared much for in the past, but when it mixed with Javi’s saliva it had you trembling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You weren’t sure how long you’d been going at this point, but the sun was coming up and you’d only stopped once for about ten minutes to get water and catch your breath. You didn’t think it was possible for you to cum anymore at this point but you could feel that familiar coil building up again. You’d lost count of how many times you’d cum.

“J-Javi-“ your voice was hoarse, wrecked and scratchy from screaming his name for so long. Now, though, he was pushing into you ever so gently, grinding his hips at the end of every thrust. “What, Diosa? Gonna cum again? Hm?” He purred softly, pressing harder into you. “Can feel it. She’s squeezing me so hard, baby. Just begging me to stay right here so she can drench me so good again.” He nuzzled your neck, his own voice gruff and raw as he moaned.

You were even more surprised with Javier’s ability to cum so much, not nearly as much as you but definitely more than you’d expect a man to be able to do in a matter of hours. As soon as his hand reached down, pressing just enough into your overly sensitive clit to have you screaming his name and cumming hard around him, your legs shaking and tightening around him as your nails dug into his sweaty back.

Javier groaned and started fucking into you more frantically, hands gripping your hips tightly as he groaned and huffed into your neck, offering a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling into the third condom he’s worn since you started, groaning weakly into your neck as his muscles trembled, breathing heavily.

You laid there for a moment, catching your breath before Javier slowly slid out and fell next to you. He panted heavily and slid the condom off, tossing it into your trashcan with the others. “… holy shit.” You whispered softly, swallowing thickly as Javier chuckled and pulled you close.

“We’ll get up soon to clean up and shower. Pretty sure neither of us can walk right now.” “I’d fucking say. How the hell did you do that?” You looked at him wide eyed as he furrowed his brows curiously. “What do you mean?” “Javi- you came like four times- we used three condoms.” Javier shrugged a little. “Happens when you have a sexy ass girl underneath you.”

Your cheeks warmed up and you shook your head shyly as he gripped your ass and kissed your neck. “Take a little nap. I’ll wake you up soon.” He promised. “This is my house.” “Yeah, well, I’m a cop and I’ll arrest you.” “You can’t arrest me for not taking a nap.” “Failure to cooperate with law enforcement is against the law.” You huffed and pushed his face away before laying your head on his chest. “I should thank Chucho when I get home later.” You heard him mumble before the sleep took over your mind, leaving you unable to respond.

You’d have to thank him yourself, maybe bake him some of those cookies he liked so much. And then you’ll shame him for not warning you that his son was that damn charismatic. Or telling you how to contact him sooner.

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I hope you enjoyed this! Been working a lot lately but I was finally able to finish it!

[gaymurdersalad]

>That’s…

>… That is wonderful, Asker. I guess you’re coming with me.

>You know, I do suppose it would be nice to have someone I… Tolerate around there. What, with that purple fucking menace looming around every wretched corner of my life. This should be a pleasant change of pace.

>Even if you’re not Dear Henry.

>Let’s Go.

[ VWOOM, TRANSITION SOUNDS, WEEP WOMP, YOU’RE GETTING SUCKED INTO AN ALTERNATE DIMENSION! VWOOOOOOP! ]

>Welcome to paradise, Asker. This is my own abode, where I store the personal arcade cabinet we just entered through.

>Right now we’re in my workshop. I would ask you to hold the aggressive comments on my decor. This is not my favorite place to reside— the house doesn’t even mean that much to me, you see; it was some lousy place my brother lived in before his wife kicked the bucket and he soon followed suit. Anyways, as such, I don’t care for upkeep.

>I really only use this place to enter the Flipside and take my fortnightly nap when this bumbling, wretched curse of a body decides it’s had its fill of lucidity.

>… God, look at me rambling. I get giddy when I’m unbothered.

>I am quite surprised we’ve gone this wrong uninterrupted by that slimy purple wen-

>SP- SPORTSY?

>Oh, oh Sportsy— I was so worried! I was so worried you just went off and forgot about me— I- I’m so glad you’re back, I’ve missed ya so much! I wus— Sportsy, I was so worried you left me for good! I know I been gettin’ on yer nerves, I— But I’d never— Oh, Sportsy, I’m so glad you’re back! I’m s-so sorry for earlier, Sportsy, I swear I’ll— I’ll make it up to ya in any way you want! I’m just so glad you’re back! I won’t make no dumb mistakes like that again— I swear! Just— I can take care of ya, I- I missed you so much! This past hour felt like agony wit’out’cha, Sportsy! I missed you!

>Are ya okay? Did anything happen while you were a’wanderin’? Not a scratch, it seems— That— That bullet wound, I hope ya didn’t move around too much, Sportsy, those bandages look… I- I’m so glad you’re alright, Sportsy, I missed ya! Do you need for anything? Can I getcha some water? Oh, Sportsy, yer eyebags are gettin’ kinda noticeable— When’s the last time you ate? I can— I just went out and got, uhm, some groceries, Sportsy! I’ll cook anythin’ ya want! Sportsy, I’m so glad you’re alright… We should— We should getcha to bed, I know you don’t much like sleepin’, but I swear, I can help ya out— You just seem so tired, Sportsy, I— I can make ya anything you want, I got those ramen noodles I seen ya eat a couple times, and I can cook ‘em for ya no problem! Sportsy, I could make ya some tea Like I remember you drinkin’ wit’ that pink friend a’yours! You’re gonna be okay, Sportsy, I- I missed you so much, Sportsy! I-

>GET OFF OF ME, YOU DOG!

>I- Sp- Sportsy- I’m sorry-

>I don’t care, I don’t care! Don’t touch me you stupid beast!

>Anything! Anything fer you, Sportsy, I’m sorry!

>And quit it with that goddamn nickname!

>… I-

>In fact, just— stop! Stop talking to me, neglect whatever doe eyes you’re about to give me, and shut up!

>…

>Who— Who’s that, in the house, Jack?

[ DAVID IS NOW OPEN FOR ASKS FOR THE NEXT HANDFUL OF POSTS BEFORE HE IS CONDEMNED TO HELL IN HIS WORLD FOREVER! ]