#because like.. spaghetti.. and gun strap..

Roy Tillman, Sheriff of Stark County, knew everything that happened within his county lines. If someone had a flat tire, he knew about it. If someone adopted a new dog, he knew about it. If someone was having an affair, he knew about it (and usually blackmailed them because of it). And more than anything else, if someone new was in town, he definitely knew about it. He knew about you the second your vanilla cashmere perfume floated into southeastern North Dakota. 

You came up from North Carolina, figuring you might as well try the other state with ‘North’ in front of it. Coming from the south, you thought you knew country - but there was nothing that could prepare you for what Stark County had to offer. As soon as your tires crossed the county line, you were greeted with a scowl from a man on a billboard and probably the most redneck image you’ve seen since you left the Carolinas.

RE-ELECT SHERIFF ROY TILLMAN ‘A HARD MAN FOR HARD TIMES’

An image of the American flag stilled in the background. A ginormous badge. A man on a horse. And a man staring off into the distance, attempting to look like the hero in an old western your Papaw used to watch. You were willing to bet all your hard earned money (You had less than a grand to your name) that the knock off John Wayne was Sheriff Roy Tillman. You couldn’t help but giggle a little. Men always made you giggle - especially when they had this macho man attitude, they had no clue they looked dumb as rocks.

It was the middle of June, windows down and music up. You were blasting ‘A Place In This World’ by Taylor Swift - you felt like the lyrics matched the moment as you were closing in on town you would soon be calling home. Your curls whipping in the midwestern wind as they tangled up into your sunglasses. Your cherry coke was sweating just as bad as you were, but it tasted better than the gas station coffee that you had gotten a couple hours ago that you left unfinished. You hadn’t seen any speed limit signs, so you made up your own speed - 70mph sounded great. Well, it did. 

Until you heard the sirens.

Well thats one way to start off with a bang.

You see the blue and white lights flashing behind you in the bright of the day, siren blaring and ruining the vibes that your playlist (named ‘PRETTY PINK PILATES PRINCESS PLAYLIST’  that Spotify made for you) had set. You didn’t run, you knew better - you didn’t plan on causing problems for the law at least not on your first day.

You pull over and look at what your working with. Your hair looks perfect - you say a silent thank you to God that he gave you peak Julia Roberts 90s curls. Where is your damn lip gloss? Oh, God - you hear the door of the cruiser close. Fenty Beauty. Thank the good Lord that you found it in time. You don’t even need a mirror to apply the gloss, this is like muscle memory to you. 

Boots.

Heavy boots. Its a man… Bingo.

You quickly do a little tussle in your white spaghetti strap tank and let your bubblegum pink lace bralette peak out the top, showing off a generous amount - a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do and boy… do these girlies work overtime for you. You become overly aware that your denim cut offs are making your thighs look a little too plump, now you’re just showing off. You almost feel bad for the man, but its too late now.

He’s here.

“Afternoon Miss… Im Deputy Tillman with the Stark County Sheriffs Department. Do you know why I pulled ya over today?”

Girl.

This man. Is so fine. You’re mentally taking a picture of him so that you can describe him in explicit detail to your friends on FaceTime later. The only downside about this moment was the thick smell of cigarettes off of him. God, you hated cigarettes.

“No Deputy, Im sorry - I don’t have a clue!” You reply with the most sticky sweet southern drawl. You know what to do, what to say, how to say it. You’ve never gotten a ticket, and one of your life’s missions is to never get one. 

“Gotcha going 72 in a 50 zone… where ya going in such a hurry?”, he asked, already knowing that he was gonna let you go - gotta keep himself on the good side of a pretty girl like you. You handed him over your drivers license, registration, and proof of insurance. He smiled ever so slightly when he read your name. He was also confused as why someone from North Carolina was all the way up here when it wasn’t hunting season - not that you looked like the hunting type. 

The wind sending him a love letter with its only content being the smell of your perfume - definitely vanilla, but something else… cherries? He was thanking God that he has his sunglasses on, he could unashamedly look wherever he so pleased without you knowing a damn thing - but he aint the first man to look at you, and he sure as shit aint the last… you knew exactly where the deputy was looking.

“Im going to be honest with you officer-”

“Deputy”

“-Deputy… right. My apologies. Im new in town, just rollin in… bags are in the car and everything - see?” You motion to your absolutely filled to the brim Toyota 4Runner. He had never seen so much pink in all of his life. Pink suitcases. Pink pillows. He can count at least 3 pairs of pink slippers in the passenger floorboard. A frog stuffed animal that you had sitting in your passenger seat… wearing the damn seatbelt. If it wasn’t pink, it was something glittery. You get the angle just right with the sun, he was willing to bet you could blind someone with the amount of glitter you had in here. 

You see him grin, crooked and slow - measuring.

“And you’re comin here… to Lehigh…to live?” He was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from the trunk or something, because you look like you just moved out of a barbie dream house and aint nothing in this whole damn county would make you blend in. This has to be a joke.

“Nothin worked for me back home, figured id try something new.” You said as confident as possible, ignoring the churning in your belly and the slamming of your heart. You had no clue what you were doing all the way out here. You hadn’t told your mama - not that she would’ve cared enough to convince you to think twice. You had no job lined up. Did this small town even have a salon, let alone enough people to fill your books? The only thing you had was a ridiculously inexpensive (compared to North Carolina) year long rental contract for a little yellow house with blue shutters - that and all your pink glittery belongings.

The way he smiled back at you… gosh - it was like the movies.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. He didn’t know why, but he was a mix of amused, jealous, and giddy all at the same time. Amused, because who the hell would want to try out living in Lehigh as a choice? Jealous, because wow - did he want a choice, a taste of liberty. Giddy? Yeah, he just met the prettiest girl he had ever seen and now she is gonna live in his puny, boring as shit, isolated town… hell yeah he was giddy. 

There was no way in heaven or hell that he was giving you a ticket, but you didn’t know that. He began pulling something out of his bulletproof vest and you assumed the worst. You straightened your back as if you were getting scolded and fought back pouting out your bottom lip. Then he handed it over to you.

His card. His name. His number. His email. Him. 

Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman.

“Im gonna let ya off with a warning… cant ruin yer optimism about these parts that fast. Speed limits 50, go 50. Call me if ya need anything.” He lowered his sunglasses and you finally got to see his fucking gorgeous hazel eyes, “And I do mean anything.” He winked as he walked away, boots heavy on the ground.

You sit there for a moment in a spiral, noticing that his lights have now turned off. This was not exactly how you imagined the first few minutes in your new town to go, but you weren’t exactly mad at it either. You see him pop an illegal u-turn right in front of you. This fucking guy… but I guess he can get away with it right?

Tillman. Tillman. It hits you. He is related to the Sheriff. You think about the wannabe John Wayne on the billboard, and then your mind flicks to the Deputy you just met - they have to be father and son. You shake him out of your mind for now, you have like a million other things to think about that are way more important than a hot nepo baby.

Finally settling down, you pull back onto the road and continue making your drive to your new home. GPS starts spinning out on you, but thankfully you know its right down the road. Just look for the little yellow cottage with the white trim and blue shutters. Home. Your home. Feels weird to say, or to think about. Living in the suffocation of your mother, you dreamed of something for yourself - who knew North Dakota would gift that to you?

It hits you in a wave of excitement when you finally see it from a distance. Its small and its yours. You pull into the long driveway - grass overtaken in the middle, just leaving dirt underneath where the tires pass over. Theres a tree that canopies out, limbs shading the house to a degree. You park your 4runner underneath it and sit in absolute silence for a beat. By the time you reach the front door, the sun has started making its descent over the grassy yard. You witness the glory of a North Dakota sunset for the first time, realizing that this has been gatekept - and you intended to keep that secret now as well. Pulling out the key from the lockbox, you slid it into the knob and turned.

The old walnut colored wood floors looked like gold as it was bathing in the sunset. The walls were an off white, cream-ish color, making the whole house illuminate. It smelled like musk and old wood, it smelled like your Mamaw - bringing a whole new feeling of comfort. 

Rosie, your landlord, offered to leave a few pieces of furniture for you since she knew you were coming alone and only brought what you could fit in your SUV. She left a wooden table with a built in lamp and a green and white checkered love seat in the living room. In the kitchen, she left a small white metal table that had seen much better days. It was up against a large bay window that overlooked the backyard. Your backyard. 

You made your way through the home. A small powder room, with walls decorated in pink floral wallpaper - easily was from the 70s. Next to it, a small room with French doors that spill into the living room. It was too small to be a bedroom, you thought it was logical to be an office. Slipping back through the living room, you ascend the wooden staircase. Every step made a noise, like the house was surprised it had a visitor. You are met with a small landing with a circular window that overlooks the driveway and onto the main road. On one side of the landing, there is a small guest bedroom, and sitting on the other side is the primary bedroom. On the far wall, a wood framed queen sized bed sits centered. 

You make your way into the bedroom, flipping on the light switch in the process. The light is flickering ever so slightly, and you can tell its just a loose bulb that needs to be secured a bit more. The issue is, you are 5’1 and the bed isn’t close enough to the light. You dont have a ladder and you consider just flinging yourself off the bed to pull a move. Deciding that jumping with force, not a ton of grace, and glass doesn’t make the best scenario - you decide to just turn off the light. You’ll deal with the darkness when the sun finally sets. To the side of the room, you see a little ensuite bathroom. Before you have the chance to walk in, you see a set of headlights coming up your drive.

You creep downstairs, silently praying that you remembered to lock the front door. You have nothing in the house with you, everything is still packed. Even your leopard print purse is sitting in the passenger seat right beside Scroggy (your frog stuffed animal that you’ve had since you were 5 that you named after your kindergarten teacher), which unfortunately is where your taser and pepper spray currently are. You hear a knock on the door and your throat feels like sandpaper. You peek out from the staircase and through the glass panes of the window beside the door, you see him. The Deputy? You quickly make your way to the bottom of the staircase and across the wooden floors to the door. You swing it open, probably a little too eagerly. 

He stood there, filling the door frame. Tall, dark eyes, dark hair, dashing - fuck. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. He had shed his vest, so unfortunately, you were eye level with the broadest chest and shoulders you think you’ve ever seen. You notice how he fills out his shirt, shit - he probably sizes down on purpose, you thought. He notices you noticing. You speak before he can, cause Lord you do not want to have him call you out on staring. 

“Evening Deputy, is something the matter?”

“Good Evening, miss… I was just finishing my patrol when I saw the light on and…- this place has been empty for quite a while and I just wanted to come check in and make sure there wasn’t any shenanigans happenin in here is all…” he trailed off, clearly less confident than earlier. You can tell he just smoked, almost made your nose curl. 

“Oh, no… sorry for wasting your time Deputy. Im renting here from Rosie Connors. I can show you our contract if you-”

“No need. I- I believe ya.” Oh yeah, this is an awkward silence. He shifts from his toes back onto his heels as he thinks of all the ways he just completely ruined his meet-cute with you earlier. He is trying to quickly think of a way to turn this around: help her, dumbass.

“Sun is going down quick, you got in kinda late. Would you like some help unloading? Might make it a little faster for you?” He rambles.

You can tell he feels silly, and you like that. You grew up with the only men in your life being your daddy and your papaw. Neither were serious men. Seeing this Deputy, the Sheriffs son at that, fumbling his words? Yeah, that’ll do it for you - a man you can laugh at is a man you’d not entirely loath. It slips before you can catch yourself, a true giggle leaving your lips.

He swore his world stopped right there. Standing there in the cool June evening breeze on your front porch, he touched Heaven.

Before you could even reply, you were forcing him out of the door frame as he stumbled back onto the front porch. You skipped down the front steps and made your way to the car, he followed. As the trunk flew open, he realized he had entirely underestimated how many shades of pink there were. The amount of blankets you had was ridiculous. He pictured laying out all of the blankets across your yard, thinking it would probably cover the entire three acre lot. He carried load after load, bag after bag, until soon all that was left in the vehicle was loose glitter and somehow, a pink feather. The sun had long gone, dipped below the fields as the lights in the house were all you had left. 

The Deputy rolled his shoulders, he realized that was probably the weirdest exercise he’s had in a while. He thought about how on probably his 8th load into the house, the box he was carrying felt a bit heavy. He looked in the box and the entire thing was filled to the brim with stuffed animals, yet it felt like it was 60lbs. He realized just how ridiculous he was because he was considering squatting stuffed animals. He could tell absolutely no one about this.

He caught you looking at him with an amused smile on your face.

“Well… your car is empty. My back is shot. Im pretty sure I have a piece of glitter in my fucking eye. Is there anything else you need, considering that I’m completely spent?” He sassed at you, huffing. He loved every fucking second of this, he would stay here until the sun burnt out if you asked him to.

“Actually, there is one thing…” you smirked.

Something in your eyes caught his attention. Then the way you twirled around to the staircase and swayed your hips in those little cutoff shorts he had been thinking about since earlier caught the attention of something else inside of him, or a certain part of him. He followed, because of course he did. You made your way to the landing and told him to follow you. He did, eagerly. He had seen the whole downstairs, he didn’t see bedrooms - he knew what was up here.

Shoulders back, chest out, cocky grin - he strolled into the bedroom, like he knew exactly where this was going. He imagined you thanking him in the way he deserved, on your knees with that infuriatingly sexy lip gloss wrapped around him. But when you turned around, you pointed up.

It was dark, he didn’t know what he was meant to be looking at and you didn’t speak. He flipped the switch that was beside him and saw the light flickering. He had never read a situation that wrong before. He jutted out his chin and held his tongue over his front teeth, pushing his lips out. Yeah, he definitely couldn’t tell anyone about this. 

“I cant reach it and I was thinking about supermaning off the bed, but now - you’re here! Can you just -” Before you could finish, he was twisting the bulb without him saying a word. It flickered one last time before evening out into a glow over the whole room. He looked flushed, probably from all of that unloading he did. Thats what you assumed.

“Thats everything that I can think of needing help with so far…” as you took in the newly lit room, and finally taking a look at the ensuite. 

You move passed the Deputy and headed downstairs, meanwhile he stood there at the end of your bed questioning everything he thought he was. You had no idea the man upstairs was unraveling. But if you did, you would’ve laughed.

He finally made his way down the steps, slowly and spent. He looked over at you and then silently made his way to the front door. Was he… sulking? You followed him out onto the front porch. He looked down at you, and hated himself for it. 

There you were, sweaty from the work you did unpacking as he was unloading, eyes glittering in the moonlight, hair like what he’d imagine a mermaids hair to be like… and you had no clue the affect you had on him - despite him spending the whole evening with you with nothing in return. 

You leaned in, grabbing his bicep (for balance purposes only, people), and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. The moment was quiet. Warm. And soft. He never had soft. You were soft.

“Thank you for everything, Deputy. From not giving me a ticket, to the lightbulb - you made my first day pretty remarkable.” You said in a hushed tone, as if you were trying not to let the crickets in the summer night hear you. 

“Gator-”, he clears his throat, “You can just call me Gator.” He felt entirely exposed, like his name wasn’t his name anymore - as if it was the key to his soul or something.

“Gator…” You smiled. He let you call him Gator. “Thank you, Gator.”

Still feeling like he just laid out his whole life for you, despite only telling you to call him by his first name, he turned and made his way down the front steps. When he reached the cruiser, he swung the door open and looked up at you.

“Goodnight, darlin.” He tipped his head and sank down into the cruiser, eyes never leaving yours.

That was the exact moment of Gator Tillman entering your orbit.

You would’ve never guessed that he’d be the one to hang the moon and the stars for you.

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"Alright, we ready get to started?" Ethan's voice comes through your earpiece.

"We're ready, Ethan. Let us know when you and Y/N meet each other." Luther says.

"I've got your locations up now," Benji says.

"Ethan, I'm on my way out of the room now. Start heading towards me." You say, finishing strapping your gun to your right thigh.

"Be right there," Ethan says. He makes his way around the corner going towards where you were, passing by people, and acting natural so he doesn't look suspicious. Ethan stops in his tracks when he sees you standing outside the room, making your way over to him. His eyes gaze over you, and how beautiful you look. The black dress you're wearing has spaghetti straps, a deep v-neck covered in mesh, stopping right below your bust, teasing a bit of your cleavage to him. The skirt of the dress is sleek with a slit on your left side that stops a little above your mid-thigh. Your hair is down, h/c locks flowing in the wind. You wear a black choker around your neck. Simple, but to him you looked like a goddess. As he's taking you in, you're doing the same thing to him. The suit he's wearing shows off his arms. The black tie around his neck making him look both sexy and like a gentleman. You stand in front of him, looking into his eyes that are still locked on you.

"Holy shit. You look gorgeous." Ethan says cupping your cheek, making him wonder how he ended up with someone like you.

"Thanks," you say chuckling. "You look really handsome." You say kissing his lips.

Ethan holds you to him a little longer than he should, needing to feel you. The two of you had been dating for six months but hadn't had sex yet. Not because you both didn't want to. The two of you craved each other. But every time you would get close, Ethan would become hesitant. Scared that he would hurt you in some way. You both talked about what you were into and where your boundaries were. That's what would make him stop. You meant more to him than anything else and the thought of hurting you drove him insane.

"Uh guys? Not to interrupt the amateur porno but we have a job to do." Benji says making you and Ethan split apart.

Ethan sees the blush on your face before telling Benji to shut it and continue the mission.

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

The door to the hotel room closed as you and Ethan made it back from another successful mission. You toss your heels over to the side and Ethan takes the jacket of his suit off. Your eyes scan over him, his biceps and chest being shown off underneath the white fabric. God, you needed him. Ethan catches your eyes on him. He walks over and pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

"You okay?" His voice muffled against your hair, his hands rubbing your sides.

You nod your head, laying it against his chest. Ethan lifts your head, making you look at him.

"You sure?"

"I'm just thinking is all." You say, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"About?" Ethan asks, running his fingers through your hair. You smile, a faint blush creeping on your cheeks.

"About how... sexy you looked in that suit when I first saw you tonight." You say before looking into his eyes. "It did something to me."

Ethan smiles before gently stroking your cheek.

"Yeah, like how you did something to me in this dress?" His hands skim down your chest, making you shiver. "You don't know how bad I wanted you."

"I do know. I want you Eth. Please, don't make me wait any longer. I love you and I trust you." You say wrapping your hands around his neck, an ache between your thighs starting to act up.

"You could never hurt me. I want you to show me how much you love me."

Ethan pulls you closer to him as he feels his pants start to get tighter on him.

"I love you too, baby." His lips ghost against yours.

"Then show me. Please."

Ethan kisses you gently, fingers tracing softly down your neck. Your fingers begin to untie his black tie and unbutton his shirt, touching his bare chest while pushing it off his shoulders. Ethan sighs at the feeling of your fingers foxtrot on his pecs, kissing down your neck while unzipping your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor. Your hands shake as you undo his belt tossing it into the room and sliding his slacks down. Ethan picks you up, attaching his lips back to yours in a deep kiss, his tongue slipping into yours. You sigh into the kiss and your fingers lace into his brown locks. He places you on the bed and hovers above you.

"I'm not hesitating. Not anymore. I promise" he says before kissing slowly down your neck. You sigh at the feeling his hot tongue sloping down your throat, his mouth sucking lightly. Ethan reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere in the room. The wetness in your panties grows from the feeling of his mouth slowly kissing down your chest. You gasp at the feeling of Ethan's mouth sucking on the sensitive bud of your breast and his index and thumb tugging the other.

"Eth, it feels so good." You softly moan out. You feel Ethan's free hand stroke your side, making you shiver. His teeth graze against your nipple, making you hiss in pleasure before he kisses it gently and moves to your other breast to give it the same treatment. Your back arches as he sucks and nips at your other breast while his hands slowly ghost down your ribs to your hips and back up. The ache between your thighs gets even hotter, slickness soaking through your panties. You hear the wet sound of Ethan's mouth releasing your nipple.

"You like that sweetheart?" He asks, his eyes staring intently at you. You nod your head.

"I need to those words baby." He says stroking your sides.

"Yes, it feels so good Ethan." Your fingers run over his shoulders, making him shiver.

Ethan's mouth slowly but sensually glides down between your breasts. His lips kissing and sucking down to your abs to your waist making you breathe heavily. Ethan kisses above your panties while his fingers trace your thighs. You moan at the feeling of him being so close to where you need him.

"Want me to taste you, Princess?" He looks up at you, his hot breath hitting your thighs.

"Yes. I want whatever you give me, Eth." You say stroking his cheek. It isn't until now you realize how his eyes have changed. Dark green eyes full of want and need. Ethan slides off your panties and tosses them behind him.

"Shit, Sweetheart. So fucking wet." He grunts, his breath hitting your glistening folds making you squirm. You gasp at the feeling of his hot wet tongue gently licking your sensitive folds, his large warm hands caressing your inner thigh.

"Oh my god, Ethan." You say in labored breaths.

"Taste so fucking good, Baby." Ethan rasps, emerald orbs locked on you intently watching your body shake as he starts sucking your clit. The pressure and heat in your core intensifying as Ethan's fingers stroke your slit before he slips one of his fingers inside. You moan at the feeling of his hot tongue against your slit and his finger slowly teasing inside you.

"Ethan... stop teasing." You moan frustrated.

You feel him smile against your burning skin, driving you mad before he slips a second digit in. You cry at the stretch, your brain only more excited about what it'll feel like to have him inside you. Your arousal pools onto his tongue, making him growl.

"Taste even better than I imagined"

"Yeah... what else... have you... been imagining?" Your voice shakes.

"So fucking much." His fingers pump into you faster, grazing your g-spot making your walls flutter around his fingers.

"Then show me. Everything. Please." You cry out gripping his dark hair.

Ethan's fingers fuck into you ruthlessly, your head spinning, the pressure in your heat hitting you hard. You cry out as you come on Ethan's tongue, him still licking up everything you give him making you overstimulated. Your hips grind against his face, fingers digging into the bed covers for composer as you come down from your orgasm. You whine as he lifts his head up from your clit and removes his soaked fingers from your sensitive core. He looks up at you, spit and your cum coating his face while licking the rest of you off his fingers before kissing you on your lips. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, your fingers ghosting down his chest making him shudder. Ethan pulls away, his forehead touching yours.

"Whatcha doing, Babygirl?" He asks breathless with a smirk on his lips.

"Wanna taste you." You say as your fingertips barely touching his abs, making them contract.

"Yeah?  C'mere then." Ethan says sitting up on his knees. You sit up and your hands pull down the waist band of his boxers briefs, your mouth watering as his lengths pops out and rests on his abs. Ethan watches you as you get on your knees, kissing his abs before your lips met his tip, giving it a small lick making him shake. You let out a struggled moan at the test of his pre-cum before your tongue lays flat against his base, moving back up to his tip.

"Fuck... just like that, Baby.." he sighs, moving your hair from your face. "Such a good girl."

You clench around nothing as your arousal coats your thighs from the taste of him and his words. Ethan's breathing picks up as you take more of him into your mouth, your hand wrapping around what you couldn't fit. He slowly bucks his hips into your mouth, making you slightly gag on him. He's about to stop until one of your hands grabs his hips, keeping him there as you bob your head. Ethan groans at the sight before him and leans his head back. You moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your hair. So lost in your own pleasure of pleasing him, you whine when Ethan pulls out of your mouth. You look up at him, a slight pout on your spit-covered lips making him chuckle.

"I'm not about to cum inside your pretty mouth when I've been dying to come inside you."His voice rasps.

Ethan leans over top of you, making you lay down. He pecks your lips, lining up at your soaked entrance.

"Eth.... Please" you whine.

Ethan smiles and slowly sinks into you. You moan at the feeling of finally being filled with him as he hisses at your tight warm walls. Dark green eyes bore into yours as if asking if he could continue. You place your hands on Ethan's face, your fingers soothing his cheekbones as he moves his hips back before they kiss yours again.

"Feel so fucking good baby." He rasps. You pulled his lips to yours and kiss him passionately. Ethan's hands resting on your sides, finger gently tracing your hot skin as he picks up his pace. You moan into his mouth, the length of him hitting your cervix perfectly while he stretches you out.

"Need more Ethan.... Don't want you to hold back.... Please." You say against his lips.

Your legs get wrapped around Ethan's hips, the new angle hitting you deeply as his thrusts become more aggressive. You cry out in pleasure the heat inside you bubbling back up in your aching core. Ethan places his fingers on your swollen clit, making you cry out, loving that he was the one who could be the provider of your pleasure. He groans as your fingers trace down his back to pull him closer and your back arches. Your breasts flushed against his chest and nipples brushing against him with every thrust. Ethan's eyes take in your blissful state. The way your eyes are half-lidded, the way your face is scrunched up from the pleasure he was giving you. Your body buzzes with pleasure, barely hearing Ethan.

"Gonna cum for me again, Sweetheart? Cum all over me like the good girl you are?"

You whine out pathetically, your arms wrapping around his neck tightly to find some stability.

"Y-yes..." you say hardly able to speak because of how broken your voice was.

Ethan's grip on your hips tighten, his hips slamming into yours making the bed hit the wall with each of his thrusts. If it wasn't for you being in pure ecstasy, you would feel bad for the people next door. Ethan crashes his lips into yours, his fingers working overtime on your clit. The inferno inside you breaks, your cum landing all over his pelvis making you sob into Ethan's shoulder. Your nails digging into his neck makes him groan as he releases himself deep inside you. He makes sure you're completely full of his hot cum before he pulls out, making you whimper. The sound of heavy breathing takes over the room as you close your eyes. You feel Ethan's hand softly stroke your cheek, a smile wide on his face as he lays beside you.

"You okay?" He asks softly, moving your messy hair out of you face.

Too tired to speak, you nod while smiling. Ethan wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you to his chest. He kisses your forehead before kissing your closed eyelids.

"I love you. So much." He says while his breath fans your face.

"I love you too, Ethan. More than anything in the world." You say kissing him.

Ethan pulls the covers over you two, rubbing your back with one hand and the other over your sore pelvis as you nuzzle against his chest.

"Goodnight baby" he says kissing your temple.

"Goodnight Eth."

You look at yourself in the mirror, shame and embarrassment rolling over you. You’d just gotten a makeover from Romeo, you’re sure the outfit he picked out for you would be glamorous on anyone else, but on you, the way it hugs and displays your body terrifies you.

“Right we’re done here, don’t let that BTH ruin the dress.” Romeo’s tone indicates he knows very well that his creation wasn’t going to last.

You swallow giving yourself one last look. You pick up your blazer and wrap it around yourself as you exit the room.

Romeo means well, but you’re afraid others will hate the sight of your body, and to put you in something so revealing…

You think about changing before going to see Taiga, but you are already running late and he might start terrorizing the casino looking for you.

You call Taiga as you stand outside his door to avoid the ritual of him pulling a gun on you.

“Taiga it’s me, can you open the door?”

He throws the door open, grinning widely as he pulls you into the room.

“Lulu told me you were playin dress up, lemme get a look atcha.” He tugs at your blazer with an amused smirk. “This ain’t Lulu approved.”

Your face burns as you avert your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “I…I’m just not sure I like how I look.”

“Don’t let Lulu hear ya say that.” Taiga cackles. “He’s proud of his outfits.”

“It’s not the outfit that’s the problem.” you mumble.

Taiga’s eyes narrow, grin switching to a frown. He uncrosses your arms prying the blazer off of you and looks you up and down as if searching for something sinister.

“Taiga please stop, give my jacket back, I make this outfit look horrible.” You try to snatch it back but Taiga tosses it out of your reach.

“The hell are you on about?” He growls as you cross your arms over yourself. He pulls your arms away again. “Do that one more time and I’m chaining your hands kitty.”

“I look disgusting.” You whine.

“You look delicious.” Taiga retorts.

“It shows too much of my body.”

“So? I like what I see.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, I’m disgusting.” You say bitterly.

Taiga roughly grabs your chin tipping your head back to look up at him. “You insulting my taste kitty?” His voice was low and dangerous.

“N…no that’s not what I meant…”you start to stutter.

“Good. Because I have fucking exquisite taste and I like you.” He growls. “So you insulting yourself is insulting me.” His fingers dig harder into your chin, hard enough to make you flinch. “You don’t wanna insult me now do ya?”

“No…” you murmur.

He releases your face, you shriek as he throws you over his shoulder carrying you across the room. Sitting down on the edge of his bed he drags you across his lap.

“Taiga!” You start to protest but are cut off by a firm slap across your ass. “What are you doing?!” You start to kick and struggle as he pushes your dress up, and pulls your underwear off, he spanks you again.

“Tell me what I want to hear, pretty kitty.” He smirks as his hand comes down hard on your bare ass again.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak

Smack!

You groan as he makes your ass sting. “I’m sorry!”

Taiga tears the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders. He shoves one hand down the front of your dress, roughly squeezing and fondling as his other hand comes down on your ass again.

“Taiga!” You protest, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes.

He pets the red stinging skin. “Say you’re beautiful.”

“I don’t feel beautiful, I don’t like my body.” You burst out.

Taiga looks genuinely confused. “Are ya stupid or something?” He sits you up next to him and places your hand in his lap, tracing the hard outline of his cock with your fingers. “What’s not ta like?”

Your breath catches at the feel of him. You did that to him.

“Want me to show ya just how much I like yer body?” His pupils are blown wide as he presses your hand down against his crotch, rubbing his cock against your palm.

Taiga throws you on your back on the bed. “To much fucking fabric.” He grumbles grabbing the hem of your dress and tearing it up the seam so he can reach your thighs.

“Taiga the dress!” You protest.

“Fuck the dress, you’re the pretty bit.” He runs his tongue up your thigh sending shivering tingles through your body. Then his teeth sink in. You give a little shriek as he releases his bite and licks at the blood. “This is mine.”

He tears the dress the rest of the way off leaving you naked and exposed as he hovers over you. You cross your arms over your chest and he glares.

“What did I say about those hands, kitty.” He grabs the dress, tearing off a strip he roughly binds your hands together pinning them above your head.

“Stop hiding my stuff, if I wanna look at’cha I’m gonna look.” He got off of you long enough to shed his clothes, staring down at you the whole time. Staring with the look of a starving man presented with a feast.

Then he was on top of you, his cock pressing between your legs, bullying its way inside of you.

“Taiga you’re being too rough!” You wince as he stretches you open with no preparation. His cock is thick and the stretch burns as he pushes in too hard, too fast.

“Nah you can take it. Sides, you said you don’t like your body, so it’s mine and I can do what I want with it.” Taiga grunts as he works himself in deeper. His lips graze along your jawline, trailing to your neck, he plants sloppy kisses down the column of your throat. Your wrists tug against their bindings as you squirm beneath him.

“You’re already a little wet, did the spanking make you hot for it?” He bites down on your shoulder finally burying himself all the way in with a final thrust. “My cock will have you soaked soon, don’t worry.”

Taiga’s lips move to your chest licking, sucking and biting, littering your chest with bite marks and hickeys.

“Taiga!” Heat is growing between your legs with his cock inside you. You can feel it, pressing against your walls, taunting you with the unfulfilled promise of friction. You want him to move, but he seems content at the moment just to be wedged inside you. You try to thrust your hips but he pins them down to the bed.

Taiga runs his tongue along your breast, licking up small beads of blood from his bite marks, kissing the bruises and hickeys.

“You said your body was disgusting but everything has been delicious so far.” He mumbles before locking his lips around a nipple and giving it a long hard suck. You squeeze down on his cock, he gives your nipple a warning graze of his teeth in return.

“You that desperate to get fucked?” He releases your nipple and grins down at you. “Maybe I’ll do it if you tell me what a pretty kitty you are.”

Your face grows hot. “You just like torturing me don’t you?”

Taiga bares his teeth. “This is just a light teasing, if I wanted to torture you, you’d be in the chair. Now what’ll it be?” Taiga slowly pulls out, giving you a tiny taste of friction against your pulsing walls. You’re indeed as wet as he promised now, and he rubs the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance.

“Say it if ya want it.” Taiga smirks down at you.

“I…I’m your pretty kitty.” You blush furiously.

Taiga rewards you with three deep quick thrusts. You pant and wriggle, but he still keeps your hips pinned down.

“Repeat after me, I’m gorgeous.”

“Taiga!” You give a frustrated whine, but he doesn’t relent. “I’m gorgeous.” You finally mumble.

He starts fucking into you at a slow steady pace.

“I’m Taiga’s sexy fuck doll.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m Taiga’s sexy fuck doll.” You repeat in a moan as he rolls his hips into you. He increases his pace at the sound of your voice.

“You’re all mine.” He whispers harshly in your ear before nipping your earlobe.

“All yours.” You groan as he thrusts harder and faster with each repetition.

“Feels good don’t it?” Taiga purrs, grabbing your arms, pressing them down into the bed as he stretches on top of you, pressing deep into you.

“Yes!” You gasp as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“How can you hate a body that makes you feel so good?” His cock plunges in nice and deep, you’re so wet, your thighs are soaked as he pumps into you.

“Taiga. Taiga!” You chant his name “Fuck! Harder! Please!”

“You know wha’cha gotta say to get what ya want.” Taiga pants.

You bite your lip squeezing your eyes shut. Complimenting yourself is so foreign to you.

“Your pretty kitty wants it hard.” You whimper. “Please fuck my pretty pussy harder.”

Taiga’s grip on your arms tightens, his rings bruising into your skin. He rails into you harder, moaning your name as he moves on top of you.

“Your sexy fuck doll wants to cum. Please cum with me Taiga. Want to make you come with my sweet tight cunt.”

You feel glorious, as the pleasure builds inside you with each thrust. Your bodies move together heated and desperate, building towards climax. Your hands tug against their bonds, Taiga’s hands clench down on your arms, your body arches, every muscle tightening. Then it hits you, you scream out Taiga’s name as you writhe in ecstasy, your mind blanks as all your tension releases when you come. Taiga’s release hits soon after, making him shudder and groan. Collapsing next to you, he pulls you close in a sweaty embrace. You loop your bound hands over his head so you can hug him back.

—You 🌸🫛—

You're reading in a clover patch at one end of the trailer while Joel chops wood. Two of his men come up the hill, and Joel tells you to stay put while he talks to them. Even when Joel addresses you, they don't look in your direction. They stay in the doorway of the trailer. You put your book face down and start looking at the clovers while you try to eavesdrop.  You can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like someone might have tampered with one of the vans. You brush your hand through the leaves, and one catches your eye. Without plucking it, you gently separate it from the others to make sure it's not an illusion. There really are four leaves. You smile and get down on your stomach to look at it. You think about leaving it so it can grow more. That's what you did when you found one earlier in the week, but you pluck this one.

The men go back down the hill, and Joel goes inside for a moment before emerging again. You're laying the clover leaves flat between the pages of your book when Joel calls you inside. Then he leans against the trailer with an arm above his head, the side of his wrist resting near the top of the door frame as he waits for you.  He's wearing a body holster now. "C'mon, let's go," he shouts so you can hear him. 

"Ok," you call. 

You just want to finish pressing the clover into the page, but he rushes you: "Now." 

"What for," you ask.

"Cause I said." He disappears inside, and his back looks so broad, framed by the holster straps. 

You come in and pout in the window nook with your book closed, waiting for him to explain. There's a belt on the kitchen table.  Joel emerges from the bedroom and tells you he's going down the hill to help fix the van, and you're coming.  

“you good in that?” he asks, looking at your spaghetti strap dress. You nod. You like the dresses he gave you, and it’s still warm enough, you think.  He confirms, “Sure ya won’t be cold?” and you nod. He seems glad. 

He approaches the kitchen table holding something strappy and leather. He pulls out a chair and faces you in the window nook. 

"C'mere," he says. "Gonna carry your gun today." 

"Oh," you put down the book. Sounds exciting. Sounds like he trusts you. "Yeah, sure," you try to play it cool. He takes your knees and swings your legs toward him. 

"Gonna see if this piece'a shit's worth anything. If not, ya wear mine okay?" He thumbs the shoulder strap of his holster. 

You frown and mutter, "I like when you wear it," eyeing the muscles straining his white shirt.  He suppresses a smile, but you see it in his eyes. 

"Gimme your leg," he commands. You give him your leg on your shooting side. You watch his face. He has a toothpick behind his ear.  He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall all the way down your raised leg, exposing your panties. His eyes linger there, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster. He wraps the strap around your thigh and mutters, "good."  He slides the strap into the buckle, then tightens it. "Too tight?" He asks. 

"No."

He fastens the buckle on your inner thigh, and his massive hands map your thigh, checking the fit. You flinch in pleasure as his fingers graze the edge of your panties.

There's a long ribbon dangling from the other end of the holster where another strap should be. He laces it through two hand made grommets on each side. There are two more empty holes on the top of each side. 

"Here," you offer and take both ends of the ribbon from him. You tie it in a bow on the outside of your thigh. 

"That gonna hold?" He asks. 

You shrug. "Feels ok, what do you think?"

He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips, and his gaze remains for another inhale, then he pries his eyes away, sticks the toothpick in his mouth, and lets your foot down.  You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself, quickly cupping his crotch through his pants as you slide the gun into the holster. 

"Walk," he mumbles. 

You walk the length of the kitchen. 

It's a weird sensation, having one of your legs burdened by a weight while the other one is free. But aside from that, it's fine. 

"Alright?" He asks.

"Yeah." 

He nods, "Good. C'mere."  You stand right in front of him, between his knees. "Hold your dress up for me."

You hold it up over the holster. 

"Higher. Belly button." 

He grabs the belt from the table and when he picks it up, ribbons are dangling from its holes. The ribbons have their ends burned and melted like a shoelace for threading.  He fastens the belt securely around your bare middle, then threads the loose ribbons through the empty grommets on the top of the holster and secures them. 

He turns you to the side, tugs at the ribbon, and mutters, "good." Then he can't help but grab a handful of ass, and your bottom lip creeps under your teeth.

As he turns you to face him again, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth and gives you a serious look. "Comin' with me today, sweet pea. Ya do what I say, understand?"

You nod.

"I say get outta here, ya run. I say stay put, ya don't fuckin' move." 

"Got it."

—-

He puts the toothpick behind his ear and picks up a few pieces of jerky off the counter as he stands up. He hands you a piece. 

You take a bite and chew it as you walk down the hill. You watch his jaw flex when he chews.  You tell him, "This one's good."

"Cause Carter made it," Joel notes.  You cringe at yourself,but he doesn't seem offended. "Turkey," he adds. 

Turkey, that's why. Much better than venison. You haven't had poultry in a while, not even grouse. Traps have been empty. 

"I love yours," you tell him. 

Joel gives you an appreciative pat on the back of your head, then his hand trails down your back, over the swell of your ass. He slides his hand under your dress and palms your butt cheek. He lifts it, then lets it drop. 

Joel brings you around the front of the stash house where the vans are normally parked and tells you to wait. There’s only one van. One of the other guys took the second van to get gas and isn’t back yet. 

You reach under your dress and adjust the holster as you sit down on a patch of grass to watch. Joel's muscles glisten and flex as he lifts the hood of the van and props it open. He looks around the inside of the van and dabs his head with a bandana that he tucks back into his pocket . He looks under the van while you pick tall blades of grass and braid them together. 

When he's done, he tells you they need a part. Need to go to the junkyard and see if they can find one. You’re going with him and Carter on foot.

—

The junkyard is a few miles on the other side of Joel’s trailer. You go down that side of the hill and walk through the abandoned mobile home park to get there. It’s the first time you’ve seen most of it close-up, aside from through the scope of Joel’s rifle. The rest of the journey is mostly on a dirt road, and you have to climb through a fence to get into the junkyard. 

It feels like you’re there for a long time. You hear the weak bark of a dog in the distance. Joel thinks it’s coming from the woods. It stops.  There’s a house that looks abandoned, but Joel thinks there might be junkies in it. He says they gather around there. He’s even found one sleeping in a car. When Carter finds a part they think will work, they have trouble taking it off the truck. They don’t have the right tools. Brute force isn’t an option because it could easily break. 

The three of you cautiously approach the house and the barking starts again. The structure is run down, and the windows are busted out. It’s small, can’t be more than a couple of rooms. 

—--

As Carter sweeps the house, you go around back with Joel, and there's the dog. He's skinny and his bark is weak and strained. He's chained to a pipe on the side of the house. The pipe has been pulled a little bit outward so it's leaning, but he wasn't strong enough to free himself. He's a scrappy little mutt with a floppy ear. Probably less than 20 lbs (9 kg). You and Joel both stare at the dog, then Carter calls from inside, “Miller!”

Joel looks around to make sure you’ll be alright for a minute. “Don’t move. Stay alert. Hand on your gun.” 

As Joel goes inside,  Carter says, “Think he’s alive.” 

“Infected?”Joel asks. 

“Nah, see the track marks?”

“Piece’a shit left his dog to die.” 

Outside, the dog watches you. He sits attentively with his head down.  You put on a soothing voice for him. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?" He lowers his head almost to the ground as he slowly stretches his arms out, then his tail starts to wag hesitantly, staying close to the ground. He begins to whine.  There are a couple of bones behind him with no meat left on them at all. 

Carter comes out to watch you.  There's a metal bowl upside down out of the dog's reach.  "He needs water," you say. Carter looks around then reaches into his backpack and hands you his water. You pour some into the dish for the dog, and his tail begins to wag with more pep. When you reach out to touch the dog, he flinches and backs away, then cautiously returns and gets closer to you than he was. 

Carter gets closer, and when he reaches out for the dog, it growls and barks ferociously. Carter isn't afraid–it's too small to be afraid of. He reaches for the dog's collar and the dog chomps his hand with a vicious growl, high pitched from his throat. He doesn't want to let go.

"DAMN!" Carter yells. "SHIT," he shakes his hand.

"No," you firmly tell the dog. The dog lowers his stomach onto the ground and raises his brows pathetically with a whine. 

"He's just scared," you tell Carter as he rinses the wound with the rest of his water.

"I know, I know," Carter nods. He puts his water back in his backpack. "Feisty little fucker." He spits on the ground. 

“We’ve gotta get him out of this,” you mutter.  

Carter tries to stop you. “Don’t touch–”

You hold your hand out to the dog, and Carter sighs in resignation. The dog reaches his neck out to sniff you, then licks you. He lets you touch him. Then you touch his collar and he growls, but not as bad. The collar has inner spikes that must be hurting him. It's too big and has some slack hanging down from where it's been tightened.

Joel comes outside with a bag of tools clinking heavily against each other. 

"What the hell's goin' on out here?" You give Carter a hopeful glance and he doesn't snitch on the dog for biting him. 

You look at Joel. "He's gonna die if we don't get him free," you explain.  Joel lunges toward the dog and you try to warn him, "WAIT-"  Joel stops short of bending over and instead looks at you. The dog goes after his ankle, bearing his teeth and going nuts.  Joel shakes his leg free. You tell the dog, “No" and he submits on the ground with a whine. Joel looks at the dog and raises his gun. 

"You wouldn't," you whine. "He's protecting me."

“Course i wouldn’t. Damn.”

Joel steps closer and aims at the drain pipe behind the dog, shooting the chain to break it. It hurts your ears but it works. The dog yelps and skips out from the building, chain dragging behind him. Joel takes the bag of tools back to the truck where they found the part, leaving Carter with you while you try to free the dog. 

"C'mere," you sit back on your knees and open your arms for the dog. With the freedom of movement, you can work the collar off him. The dog whimpers and paws at the collar with you. When he lets out a sharper, high pitched whimper, you freeze as it triggers a memory. Your chest feels hollow and long-buried grief stabs at the backs of your eyes. You push it away. You don't want to cry. You want to be tough and whatever else you need to be for Joel to always take you with him. The dog whimpers again and you return to the task. You free him from the collar and he trots away from the house. 

— Joel ⛓️ —

When he gets back, the dog is playfully pawing at your knees.  You scratch behind his ears and he rolls over. One look at your face and Joel knows what you want. 

"Alright, let's go," Joel says and looks at the ground next to you. He steps forward and the dog growls. "It's ok," you tell the dog and you reach for Joel's hand. 

“Maybe he wants to come with us,” you say as casually as you can. 

Joel clenches his jaw and shakes his head. 

"I can take care of him," you plead, your eyes big and watery. "He's not big, he doesn't need much." 

Joel shifts his weight as he looks at you for a moment. "I know ya get bored-"

"Not because I'm bored," you protest. "He's hungry."

"No," Joel tells you firmly and your tears overflow. God damnit, not here. He's hungry because he was chained. He'll be fine now.

Joel doesn't want to share resources, doesn’t want the barking to attract attention, and doesn’t want someone to come after the dog–after you–if there’s anyone left to come. The junkie inside is as good as dead, but they run in packs and they’re dangerous.  

"It's for your own good, sweet pea.” Joel really thinks it is. 

You shake your head no. "I had one," you sniffle. "Before." 

Joel’s nostrils flare at the shake of your head, then his stomach drops. He doesn't want to know about before. He does, but he really doesn't. He covers his mouth with the crook of his thumb as he rubs both sides of his beard. Before. It gets harder and harder to avoid. He shakes it off.  All he can do is keep you safe and take care of you the best he can, which means taking care of only you. He shakes his head no again, then reaches into his backpack. He throws a piece of jerky as far as he can. “He’s fed, Gonna be fine.” He throws another piece. 

You watch the dog run off for the jerky, but you're in a trance, thinking about something else. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Joel steps forward, wraps a hand around the inside of your bicep, and gently pulls.  You try to resist walking, and his grip gets firmer. You stand there watching the dog, feet planted on the ground, muscle tensing under Joel's grip.

Joel faces you and cups your face with both hands, making you look at him. He gets a few inches from your face and lowers his voice.  “Ain’t gonna spank ya in front’a Carter, but ya better move.”  He means it. Non-negotiable.

He grabs your arm again, and as he starts dragging you away, you blurt out, "Her name was Daisy. She saved my life."

Joel ignores it.  “Move. Now. Or I’m pickin’ ya up.”  You relent and stop resisting. Smart. He wouldn't want to regret bringing you with them.

Joel squints into the ground as the two of you walk. Carter walks ahead, not wanting to get in the middle of it.  “Maybe this one could save me, too," you suggest. "if you’re gone.” 

Damnit sweet pea, you sure are smart. Nice try, but that's what Carter is for.

"Dog that size?” Joel laughs. You compose yourself. You walk in silence for a few minutes, but Joel is still thinking about it. “How,” Joel asks, and adjusts his backpack. “How’d she save you? Must’a been bigger, right? meaner?”

Carter looks over his shoulder with a side-eye at the word “meaner,” but doesn’t reveal his injury.  

You don’t answer Joel. You're checked out. You keep eyeing the tree line, but you wouldn’t. . . There's no way you’d run, right? 

You look at him with your eyes red. “You don’t wanna hear it.” 

The vacant look on your face makes Joel stop in his tracks to face you. “Tell me,” he demands. 

You sniffle and look toward the tree line again. “Can I go pee?”

Joel can’t read you right now, which disturbs him. “Yeah,” he mutters and puts his massive hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the forest. 

He starts to come in behind you, and you ask him, “Do you mind if I go?” 

He swallows and furrows his brow as he looks at you. You must read his concern, because you hand him your bag. He nods. He steps into the woods, but tries to give you some space, without losing track of you. He doesn't wanna have to chase you down, but damnit he'll tackle you if he has to, to save you from yourself. His stomach is uneasy.

There’s a hollow, rusted truck about 30 paces away. You go on the other side of it. Joel knows you’re not just pouting about leaving the dog. There's more to this. But you’re right, he’s not sure if he wants to know. 

Until he hears you sniffling, and it's not just sad, it's scared, painful.

Ah, fuck it. He moves as quietly as he can.

“Sweet pea,” he says softly as he walks around the old hollowed-out car. You’re squatting–not peeing, just hugging your knees, facing the abandoned car. You're shaking and your cheeks are wet. There's not much space, but Joel gets between you and the car.  He takes his backpack off and drops it to the side.

“She wasn’t afraid like me, Daisy,” you choke out and wipe your cheeks with the heel of one palm.  “They,” you croak. You pause and try again. “He had a gun-” you close your eyes. “Pointed at, pointed at me," you take a deep breath and keep your eyes pinched shut. "He was, he was gonna—but she wouldn’t," you choke on a breath. "She wouldn't stop barking.”  

"Shhhhh, it's ok." Joel cuts you off. It's too hard to see you re-living this. He doesn't want you to get to the details. He squats down. His head is full of pressure, and his heart is full of rage. You take shaky, shallow breaths. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets his knees into the ground. “Breathe,” he says. “Breathe, sweet pea.”  You lean forward, letting your weight into his arms, and he holds you for a minute as you regain your breath.  He cradles your head.  "Yeah, you're okay, I got ya."  He buries his mouth in your hair. "I got ya, baby," he whispers. You wipe your eyes on his shoulder and your cheek catches on the holster.  When you lift your head, you apologize and he shakes his head no.  He brushes a fresh tear off your cheek, and arousal stirs in his pants.  

“Who did it,” he asks, unable to mask the darkness in his question. 

“Just a guy,” you tell him. A guy like himself, Joel assumes with disdain. 

“What kinda guy” 

You sigh and he hates making you think about this, but he needs the answer. “Mean. Had a gold tooth.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and nods. 

"FEDRA," you add, and Joel's face goes cold. His mind goes blank. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe as the life is sucked out of him and replaced by ice cold rage. FEDRA. Not a guy like him.

 “How’d ya get away?” Joel asks. 

You look at him for a second, doing a double take at his face.  You shake your head. “You don’t wanna hear it." You bury your head in his neck again. You’re right, he doesn’t want to, but he insists.  

“Tell me.” 

“Jah–” you stop and look at Joel’s face. His jaw clenches. He knows what's coming, but the thought of FEDRA has fortified him with numbness. 

“S’okay, sweet pea.”

“Jack shot’m.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and looks up at the forest canopy, then bows his head and looks at your knees, bracketed by his own. For a moment, Joel is filled with an uncomfortable appreciation for Jack. But that fades into, no, it should have been Joel, he should’ve had you all along, he should’ve been there to save you *and* your dog. 

“He take good care of ya?” Joel asks in self-loathing. 

You shrug. 

“Better than. . .now?” He can take it.

“No,” you shake your head. “He didn’t shoot him dead.” 

Jackass fucking moron cuck. He left that motherfucker breathing? Suddenly Joel is glad he killed Jack. 

Joel nods, “I see.” He keeps nodding slowly, looking to his right at the moss on a far off tree, clenching his jaw.

"And I didn't have a gun," you add. "Cause I killed a guy Jack said not to." Joel scoffs. You could've killed the guy yourself if not for Jack.

You continue,  “and. . . Jack didn’t cook.” Joel chuckles, caught off guard -- he'd forgetten his original question. You keep going, “And he didn’t–I didn’t–I didn’t feel the same,” you wipe your eyes.  This has gone far enough, and Joel knows it's his own fault. His stupid question.  He takes the toothpick from behind his ear.

You look at him with your eyes all watery, and Joel's cock twitches. The next thing he knows, his massive hand is wrapped gently around your jaw. You put your hands on his shoulders, then straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck. 

"Mmm," he sighs as your warm crotch meets the bulge in his jeans, and he swells harder against you. He holds your face about two inches from his, looking down at your mouth, then your nose, and your eyes again. He puts his toothpick in his mouth and looks past you as he lets go of your jaw. You bury your head in his neck, blinking warm tears into his skin, making him harder. He whispers your name. He relaxes and takes the toothpick out of his mouth just in time for a branch to fall on the car with a loud clang. 

"All good?" Carter yells from the treeline. 

“Shouldn’t stay here long,” Joel mumbles as he puts it back behind his ear. ”Bad area.” He eases you off his lap back onto your feet, as you both stand up. He brushes dead leaves off his pants and your knees. He adjusts himself, puts his backpack over one shoulder, then reaches down and you take his hand.  You walk a few steps together and he looks back at you slightly behind him. He realizes you’re shaking. He drops your hand, goes in his backpack, and pulls out a flannel that he packed even though you said you were fine. He unfolds it, holds it out, and helps you put it on. 

“Thanks,” you whisper and rub your nose. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck as you walk.

Joel stews and broods as you leave the forest together. He wants to go back in time and kill everyone who’s ever hurt you, anyone who let you get hurt, and anyone who failed to hurt the people who hurt you. His muscles are all tense, and his veins are throbbing.

When you get to the treeline, Joel asks Carter, "Can ya gimme five?"

"Sure thing, boss.".

“No ones gonna miss that asshole," Joel mutters as he checks his gun then sets his sights on the house. 

Joel can’t go back in time, but by God, he’s got to kill someone. He drops his backpack then hurries back to the abandoned house, rifle in both hands. When he gets there, he puts the rifle around his back and grabs the dog chain off the ground on his way in. 

—---You 🌸🫛-—

You and Carter look at each other. “How’s your hand?” you ask him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “I dunno where the little bugger went,” he looks around for the dog.  

You both ignore the sound of the chain thrashing around until you hear grunting and look toward the house. Punches are landing. Carter puts a hand on his rifle but doesn’t move yet. Joel grunts and yells between punches. A minute later, Joel steps out of the house, walking backwards, with the chain pulled taught, and a bloody man dragging behind him. Joel kicks him up against the wall, hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then wraps the chain around the drain pipe where the dog was tied up. Joel hits the man again, then aims the rifle and calmly shoots him. Even if you never see the dog again, you're certain the dog is better off without that man. Joel wipes blood splatter off his brow and scowls at the ground as he walks back to you and Carter.

“Ya good?” Carter asks him. 

Joel nods. He’s sweaty, chest heaving.  You try not to let your eyes linger on the remaining blood. You observe his throbbing veins instead. The whole scene has you clenching your thighs.

You walk mostly in silence. When you stop for water, you realize you're being followed. Joel doesn’t notice, but you see the dog duck behind an old car when you turn around. You keep a straight face.

You hear something in the distance. Dust is kicked up down the road. Carter says, “Finally.”  It’s the van that still works, picking you up. You didn't know it was coming and wish the dog could follow you the rest of the way home, but you don’t say anything. You're glad he's unchained. 

—–

When you get back to the stash house, Joel works on the broken down van. When he’s done for the day, he takes you back to the trailer and washes the grease off. When he comes out of the bathroom, you're sitting in the window nook looking at your book, but thinking about the dog. He comes over, wiping his hands off on a towel. "Wanna go out 'n' shoot?" He seems to want to cheer you up.  

Joel goes first. He looks through the scope at the trailer park. Ever since those guys showed up one night, he's looking for other raiders or troublemakers. Then he lines up a shot at the usual target. Your eyes are on his biceps. When Joel is about to take aim, the rare sound of ducks honking startles you. They should’ve already flown South. Joel gets up on his knees and aims toward the front of the flock. He hits one, shifts ahead of the flock, and hits another. It gives you butterflies. You hear a thud as the second one hits the ground. 

“Nice!” you tell him. He winks at you and puts the gun strap over his shoulder. You smooth your dress under your butt as you stand up, then adjust the thigh holster. Joel groans as he stands up. You peer down toward where the birds fell, and something is moving up the hill. A bird, moving strangely. A dead bird, in a little dog's mouth. 

You gasp. Joel looks at you, then follows your eyes. The bird is as big as the dog.  His mouth is open wide to fit the neck.  He crests the hill and drops the bird. "Good boy!" You praise. He does a happy circle and trots back down the hill. 

You look at Joel and try not to smile. Joel puts his hand on his hip and shifts his weight to one leg. He looks down at the ground and rubs brow with the flat of his index finger, squinting. When the dog returns with the second bird, Joel mutters, "alright, big guy," and squats down to accept the bird from his mouth.  Then you barely hear him mutter, "good boy." The dog does another circle and trots around the other side of the trailer. 

 "How'd he find us, all this way?" You marvel. 

"Must have some hound in’m," Joel shakes his head. “Guess ya made an impression.” 

Joel starts a fire and boils two big pots of water. The dog keeps a respectful distance, lounging in the same clover patch where you were sitting earlier. Joel chops the heads and feet off the birds, and tosses them on the ground. The dog scurries over, wagging his tail. He drags one of the duck heads over to the grass to chew on with his butt in the air and his tail wagging furiously, all the way upright now. 

Joel beckons you back inside to wash up and change. He takes a quick shower while you take off the flannel and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. You take off the belt, untethering the ribbons, but you leave the holster on. You sit back down in the window nook.

—-

When Joel comes out from the bathroom, he sits down, manspreads, and pats the kitchen table in front of him, looking at the skirt of your dress as you get up from your seat. You unholster your gun and set it down, then use your hands to help yourself onto the surface, sitting on your dress so your thighs won't stick.  Joel spreads your knees so he can be between them, and grabs your ass to scoot you closer. 

He lifts the dress to look at the holster, and he puts his toothpick in his mouth. 

"s'prised it worked," he mutters. He eyes your legs and runs his hands all the way up your thighs with a deep breath.  "Looks good on ya, too," he murmurs. He thumbs the ribbon of the holster, then unties it. He unbuckles the real strap, too. Then he lifts your knee, slides the holster out from under you, and sets it aside with the gun. He runs his hand over the indentation in your skin from the buckle. "that hurt?" He asks. 

"No." 

He puts his elbows down on either side of your hips, and his biceps rest against your thighs. He looks back and forth between your breasts and takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he throws it into the kitchen sink and it hits the metal with a light plink. 

He furrows his brow and looks at your body, then puts his cheek flat against your breast at the lace neckline of your cotton dress while he palms the opposite tit. He turns his face to nose your nipple, and it hardens through the fabric of your dress. He dampens the cotton with his mouth as he flattens his tongue against it. One hand holds your back, near your shoulder blade for leverage, with his thumb hooked under your arm. 

He kisses wetly at your breast through your dress, then glances up at you. His hands slide up to the straps of your dress. He gently nudges the straps off your shoulder. His fingers skim your nipples as he curls his thick fingers into the lace neckline, then pulls the dress down below your tits.  He presses his wide tongue onto your nipple and closes his eyes as he latches onto it. Then he lets go with a soft pop and sucks below the nipple as he massages the other breast.  You're gushing arousal with your legs wide open.  He inhales through his nose and his stomach growls. 

"Joel," you sigh, resting your hands on his muscular back. You watch his vein 

His only response is "Mmm," into your nipple.  You're throbbing, and the more attention he pays to your tits, the more your cunt aches to be filled. You want to let him explore your body, it's not something he normally does, but it also makes you want his cock so bad. You want him to slide you off the table and sink you onto his massive erection. He's really taking his time.  You take a deep breath and try to relax. Your clit twitches. 

Joel pulls down the dress a little more, exposing an inch or two below your breasts. He switches sides, dragging his mouth to his right, your left.  With your left nipple in his mouth, he looks up at you and makes sleepy eye contact. His pupils are blown wide. 

"Joel, I want it," you plead.

His tongue trails as he moves his mouth an inch to the right of your nipple, then he closes his eyes again. He licks and sucks the outer curve of your breast, massaging the other one with a thumb lightly brushing the nipple, then the heel of his palm flattening it into your breast. His eyes open to watch his massive hand moving languidly on your breast. 

You whine his name again and slot your fingers into his dark, curly hair. He doesn't look up. You finger his curls and the pads of your fingers lightly caress his scalp. He pulls his mouth off your breast and backs his head away enough to look at your body. You let your fingers fall out of his hair and rest back on his shoulders. One of his hands moves to rest on your hip, his fingers curling around your flesh and his thumb brushing the hem of your dress. 

His voice is low and husky. "Ever feel like ya just. . ." He meets your gaze with hungry eyes, then looks at your lips. "gotta have your mouth on somethin’?"

His eyes fall down your body as he sits back and palms himself through his jeans.  You whisper "yeah," with a smile and begin to scoot off the table so you can suck him off. He abruptly leans forward and stops you with both hands firmly on your hips. He doesn't let you move. His brow furrows. He looks back and forth between your breasts and noses a nipple again. He murmurs low and gruff into your supple skin,  "Ain't talkin' 'bout you."

Your chest erupts in goosebumps.  He drags his hands down your dress to the bare skin of your legs, then slides his massive palms back up your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress, leaving his thumbs hooked on top. You brace your hands on the table to lift your butt for him. His hands keep moving up, reaching your hips.  The fabric of your dress bunches above your ass, then he curls his fingers under the waistband of your panties and begins to take them down. You let yourself back down on the table as he slides the underwear down your legs. It dangles between his fingers as he brings his hand to your neck and caresses the side of your throat with his thumb.

You feel the damp cotton against your throat and smell your own arousal as he grips your jaw. He locks eyes with you for less than a second before his gaze drifts downward. He returns his other palm to your breast, fingers slotting under your arm to hold you steady as he pushes you down until your back is flat on the table. He nudges your thighs farther apart.  He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and hums "Mmm." 

He drops the panties on the table. He spreads you open and thumbs your folds, bringing the moisture up to your clit.  He hunches over to bring his face between your legs and his left hand reaches up to fondle a breast.  He drags his nose through your slick and inhales, then moans at your scent. He plants his mouth on the crease of your thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth, then lets go. He runs two knuckles through your folds, then gently nudges his middle finger  inside. Your walls spasm around the intrusion and he breathes, "god damn." 

He pumps his finger once and adds a second digit. You moan, and he hums a deep "Mmm," in response.  He takes his fingers out and sucks one, then both into his mouth.  "Fuck," he breathes. 

He doesn't waste any more time, spreading you wide open with his thumbs and burying his face in your cunt. He starts at your entrance where your wetness pools and licks up from there, punctuating the first lick with a kiss on the clit that makes your thighs tremble. Then he laps at you more selfishly, like he's thirsty, like he needs to drink you. His tongue starts flat and stiffens as he digs for more and explores each crevasse. He moans into your folds.  You've never felt anything as powerful and precise as his tongue.  It's stronger than his fingers.  It makes you tingle in one swipe, then presses into the tingle for relief.  He holds you gently until you wriggle in pleasure and he holds you down firmer with one forearm across your lower belly.  

He breathes through his nose and moans as he devours you. When he pauses, he draws in a deeper breath through his mouth then exhales vocally against your wet cunt. 

"Feel good?" He asks with a glance to your face, then plants his mouth on your clit. 

He slides one then two fingers into your core again and you gasp then answer "y-yeah," as he sucks your clit while he pumps them. 

He takes his arm off your abdomen to unbutton his pants and take his stiff cock out. He pulls his face away from your pussy. You're throbbing, and your body races to replenish all the moisture he's sucked up. He gathers some on his fingers then also spits into his hand and wraps it around his length. You want it inside you so, so bad. You hear the squelching as his hand moves up and down his shaft. 

He brings his face between your legs again and puts his arm back on top of you to hold you still, angling his elbow so his thumb is planted at your clit. He laps at you again, moaning into your throbbing, swollen lips. He firmly licks between your clit and hole, then thrusts his tongue into your entrance and you whimper. He tilts his head and jabs his sharpened tongue into you again and again, pumping his cock all the while.  He noses your clit as he sucks and laps, then fucks you with his tongue again.  

You writhe under his arm. "Yeah," he whispers before planting his mouth again. He works your clit with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue into you, dragging it against the top wall, and your desperate cunt twitches against him. You let out a long whine, and his thumb gently rubs the top of your clit, over your hood. 

"Joel," you whimper and it turns into a moan. 

His thumb slows down, and he gathers more slick on his fingers. He wipes it on his shaft, then pulls you by the thighs closer to the edge, unsticking your bare ass from the table. You sit up on your elbows and whimper, "want you. . ."  

He's holding his cock, chest heaving. "Want this?"

"Yeah-yes," you whimper. "Please."

He gazes darkly at your cunt and decides, "Ain't done yet."

You whine his name as he puts his face between your legs again. He sucks your clit for a few seconds until you're whimpering, then he plants his mouth a little lower.  He flattens two fingers to rubs your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. You moan his name as your climax seizes you, and you clench around his tongue. He moves his hand from your clit to your mound to hold you steady as you come. He withdraws his tongue from your hole and laps up and down your folds for a few seconds as you continue to twitch. 

Then he stands up, holding his stiff, wet cock.  His face is flushed, and he's shiny from the nose down.  He braces a hand on the table and teases your clit with his swollen tip.  You flinch in pleasure, still reeling from your first orgasm. He notches his tip at your wet little hole, holds onto your thighs,.and shoves himself into you with a groan. He stays in for a moment, sighing “Ohh, fuck,” admiring your body as it rushes to accommodate him. You spasm around him, still twitching with aftershocks.

He backs up then slams into you with a low growl from his chest. It's a lot to take, but god it feels good. He lifts your legs and puts his arms under your knees, wrapping his hands over to hold your thighs as he buries his length in you, grunting and sighing. His balls slap against your ass. His biceps flex, and It isn't long before you begin to moan and writhe, and squeeze his cock. 

"Good girl," he breathes. "Good, sweet pea."

He closes his eyes and fucks you through it. He breathes deep and slow, like he's trying not to come yet.  He slows way down, moans, then bottoms out and begins to pulse. He brings his hands to either side of your body and hovers over you while he thrusts slowly with each warm burst he releases. You milk his cock until his balls are empty, then your contractions fade. 

Joel hovers there, admiring your body. Then he slides out and sits down on the chair between your legs again. His armpits are warm and humid on your thighs.  He puts one hand on each breast and lowers his head to rest his cheek on your lower abdomen, tickling you with his beard. He wipes his mouth on your belly and a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth hits your skin.  He stares off at the front door of the trailer in a trance, gently cupping your breasts. He mumbles, "Taste so good, sweet pea." 

You reach for his hair and he doesn't stop you from fingering his curls. His eyelids droop, and after a few seconds, he closes his eyes.  You lightly massage his scalp again. 

He only allows himself a minute or two before he tenses and clears his throat. He lifts his head and slides his hands under your arms, helping you sit up straight. 

“I'll check the birds,” he says as he tucks his cock away.  He squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before he stands up to go outside. 

------------

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Thank you for reading and engaging 🖤 It means the world to me when you show him your love! whether this post is new or old. I also love when people throw a comment when they re-read. It's like adding coals to the fire that keeps me warm and writing lol.

You can find more raider!Joel oral on the raider master list under hypotheticals/imagines/HCs.

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“Jake, I don’t want to go anywhere tonight. It was a long ass day. I’m sick of people, I just want to stay on my couch, eat pizza, watch a movie and go to bed early.” You said. “I don’t even care about seeing in the new year.”

“Sunshine you have to.” He insisted, stubbornly, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You’re not sitting home watching a dumb movie alone tonight. You’re coming out and ringing in the New Year with me and the rest of the ragtag lot we call friends. I will be there to get you at 7 to go to dinner with us all before we hit the Hard Deck. I’m carrying you out of there in whatever condition I find you in. Fair warning.”

He didn’t leave any time to argue before he ended the call. You sighed in exasperation and defeat. You knew he meant it when he said he’d pull you out in any condition. You’d grown up with Jake, had been best friends since Kindergarten, he’d practically lived at your house since his own homelife had not been the best. He was as much your brother as your biological brothers were…as obnoxious as them too. 

Normally, you’d be leading the charge to go celebrate, loving any opportunity to be with Jake and the second family you’d formed here in San Diego over the last two years. This year though, had been rough and your heart just wasn’t in it. 

Your boyfriend of a year was deployed…and had been for two and a half months. You’d missed your first Thanksgiving and Christmas together as a couple and were about to miss your first anniversary. You and Bradley had been friends pretty much instantly upon your arrival in San Diego, much to Jake’s dismay. At the time the two of them hadn’t exactly gotten along. Thankfully since then they’d become incredibly close thanks to one very terrifying mission. 

It had taken a year of the two of you dancing around one another, flirting, and driving everyone else crazy for Bradley to ask you on a date. That date happened to be to the New Years Eve party at the Hard Deck last year, and at midnight the two of you had kissed and he’d asked you to be his girlfriend. 

You’d been hoping he’d be able to call, but earlier in the day, Mav stopped by the clinic where you worked as an on staff interpreter to bring you lunch, most likely to soften the blow that Bradley wouldn’t be able to call you on your anniversary because the ship was on a communication blackout. That had been the nail in the coffin of your horrible day. The only redeeming part of the day had been a delivery of sunflowers that morning from Bradley followed by a Doordashed order from Starbucks of your favorite coffee order and breakfast  also from Bradley. You had definitely cried while drinking said coffee and eating the breakfast sandwich. 

Looking at the clock, you realized you needed to shower and start getting ready or Jake would be pulling you from the house looking like the hot mess you currently were. 

An hour later, you were dressed in a black, spaghetti strap, sheath cocktail dress with a v-cut neckline. You opted to leave your hair down, just letting it fall in loose waves. Your makeup was simple, warm neutral colors, not overly stated. 

“Sunshine!” Jake yelled up the stairs, letting himself in. You had just finished slipping your black strappy high heels on, and was in the process of putting your earrings on. 

“I’ll be right down!” You yelled back down at him. 

“Clock is ticking… 5 minutes and I haul you out in whatever state you’re in!” He warned. 

“You most certainly won’t, Bagman.” You heard Nat say, “We will give her as much time as she needs and you’ll be patient.”

“But Nat…” Jake started to say.

“No. Don’t ‘But Nat me.’” She laughed, “Stop pouting it won’t get you anywhere.”

“Thanks Nat.” You said, coming down the stairs, “We both know his pouting gets him everywhere though.”

“Hush.” She said, tossing me a fake scowl. “He can’t know that.”

“He’s standing right here.” Jake laughed, “Sunshine, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You smiled, “But I want it noted I’m attending under duress.” 

“Noted.” He smirked. “I’ll be sure to let the higher ups know.”

“While you’re letting them know that, also have it noted that they’re assholes for sending my boyfriend away for all the holidays.” You pouted. 

“Will do, Sunshine.” Jake said, pulling you into a hug, “He’ll be back before you know it. Hang in there.”

“It’s already been ten weeks, Jay.” You sighed, “I’ve felt every single minute of it.”

“First deployments are the worst.” Nat said gently, “They’ll always suck… but the first one is the worst.”

“Good to know.” You said, giving her a small smile. “Alright… let’s go kick this year out the door.” 

“There’s the spirit!” Jake laughed. 

You all piled into his truck and headed to dinner. It was a Mexican restaurant not far from base that had become the group’s go-to place to eat. Once there, you had to admit you were glad Jake made you come. It was good to be around people you loved and your shared group of friends with Bradley. It made you feel a little closer to him. Jake kept you laughing, just by being Jake. You knew he was playing it up, being even more extra to keep you distracted and make you laugh. What you didn’t notice was all of the subtle looks between the group, and sending of texts to a group chat. 

After dinner you all headed to The Hard Deck. Penny had it decorated for the occasion like always, as well as a table with snacks set up. Bob went immediately to grab peanuts. Jake headed to grab a bowl of the chex mix before it was gone. You went to the bar with Nat and Mickey to get drinks for everyone. 

“My favorite people are here!” Penny said, smiling as you all approached. “First round is on the house, what’ll it be?”

“Thanks, Pen!” Nat beamed. “Coke for Bob, Coors for Jake and Tito’s lemonade for me, please!”

“Thank you, Penny.” You replied, smiling. “Vodka, cranberry please.”

“Coors for Payback and Corona for me please, thanks!” Mickey said. 

“You got it!” She winked, starting to grab drinks, she glanced up at you while popping the tops off the beers and asked, “How you hanging in, Kiddo?”

“It absolutely sucks, Penny.” You sighed, “But I’ve been informed this one will be the worst as it’s the first one.”

“That’s right.” She smiled sympathetically, “Chin up, he’ll be home soon.”

“Thanks, Penny.” You said, trying to smile. She handed you your drink and patted your arm before moving to make Nat’s drink. 

You took your drink and helped Nat out by carrying Bob’s soda back to the tables in the back close to the pool table and dart board where you all always sat. Jake dropped off his bowl of chex mix and immediately pulled you and Nat to the pool table, making Bob join so you could all play as doubles. Jake and Nat, while in love with one another, could absolutely not be on the same team in anything. You’d think being on opposite teams would be worse but it was in fact not. So Nat teamed up with Bob and you paired with Jake to play a round of pool. It was decided that the losers had to buy the next round of drinks. You and Jake ended up having to buy the round, because Nat had played dirty and distracted Jake making him miss a critical shot. 

“Nat, I expect that behavior from Jay… not from you!” You playfully glared at your friend. “Want the same thing as before?”

“You know you’d have done the same…” She tossed back, smirking, “And yes, please!”

“Let’s go, Sunshine.” Jake laughed, “Help me carry drinks back.” 

You followed him to the bar and waited for Penny or Jimmy to come over. Looking around, you caught sight of Mav coming in. He smiled and winked before heading to the other side of the bar where Penny was. You were scanning the room again and missed the subtle head nod between Jake and Mav from across the bar. 

“Another round?” Penny asked, coming back over. 

“We lost at pool, Penny… Can you believe that?” Jake asked, incredulously, “Nat cheated… but… being the good sports we are, we’re going to buy the round anyway.”

“She batted her eyes and bent over the table to show him cleavage in her dress.” You laughed, “Jake never stood a chance.” 

Penny tossed her head back laughing, Jake blushed, but smiled and shrugged. 

“My girl knows how to get me.” He said, “What can I say?”

“I’m pairing with her next time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You don’t want to be my partner, Sunny?” A very unexpected voice asked from behind you. A voice you hadn’t heard in person in ten very long weeks. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you whipped around. 

“BRADLEY!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around his neck. His arms came around your waist, picking you up and holding you to him. He buried his face in your hair as yours was in his neck. “Oh my god, Baby… you’re…you’re really here.”

He pulled back so he could look down in your eyes, smiling tenderly, “I’m really here. I made it home in time, Sweetheart. Just like I promised.”

“I love you so much.” You whispered, leaning in, capturing his lips with your own, kissing him soundly. You didn’t care that you had an audience, you had ten weeks of kisses to make up for. 

“Alright… get a room! There are impressionable eyes here!” Jake teased, “Bob is right over there!”

Bradley flipped Jake off, making him laugh. Jake patted Bradley on his back, saying “Welcome home Rooster,” before heading back to the group, who was all watching the reunion. 

Pulling back, Bradley kept his forehead against yours, still holding you close, but setting you on your feet. 

“I love you too, Sunny.” He said, “I missed you so damn much, Sweetheart.”

“I missed you too… the last ten weeks have sucked.” You said, looking up at him “But I’ll go through any crappy deployment if it means I get to love you.”

“Happy Anniversary.” He smiled softly. 

“Not quite yet.” You replied, giggling. “Still got an hour.”

“Ok then, Happy 1 year Anniversary of our 1st date.” He chuckled, “Better?”

“You’re so perfect” You replied, lifting up to kiss him, “Thank you for my flowers and Starbucks this morning.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” He replied, with a smile, “Just wait until our official one year anniversary…”

“Bradley, just you being here is all I need or want.” You said, “Just you.”

“I’m here, Sweetheart.” He replied, “Not going anywhere.” 

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Nat called, “Get your adorable sappy lovesick selves over here!”

“We’re being summoned.” You laughed. 

“Yes we are….” Bradley smirked, “And she’s kinda scary.”

“She’s all bark.” You laughed, “She’s really a sentimental softy.”

“Good to know.” Bradley laughed, taking your hand and leading you over to the group. 

Javy had been with Bradley on the deployment and had snuck in behind him while the two of you were reuniting. You gave him a quick hug, welcoming him home. Jake went to grab Bradley and Javy drinks. Your group was whole again. It always felt better when everyone was there. 

As it got close to midnight Penny started handing out champagne glasses to everyone before the countdown. 

“Sweetheart, let’s go outside.” Bradley said, taking your hand, “We can claim our spot to watch the fireworks.”

“Ok!” You followed him out to the back deck of the bar and down the steps to the beach. He held your hand to support you as you bent to slip your heels off, leaving them on the cement before walking with him down the beach a bit.

“I figured we’d get away from the chaos,” He said, smiling down at you. “Welcome in the New Year…just us.”

“I love that idea, Baby.” You smiled up at him, leaning into him as the two of you walked a little further.  You were still within earshot of the bar to hear the countdown but far enough away to feel like you were alone in your own little world. 

Bradley pulled you into his arms, looking down into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you softly.

“This has been the most amazing year of my life, Sunshine.” He said, “I don’t know how I got so lucky to get to be with you…to love you… you’re my best friend.” He smiled, bringing a hand up to brush the hair from your face, “One year ago tonight you agreed to be my girlfriend… you made me so damn happy that night, Sweetheart… and every night since.” 

“Bradley…” You said, your voice choked with emotion, “It’s been the best year of my life… I’m the lucky one. You’re my best friend… my boyfriend… my person. You have made everyday so happy simply because I get to love you.”

You can hear the countdown starting…. 

10….9…..8

He smiles down at you, keeping his eyes  locked on yours….

7….6…..5

You smile up at him, your heart racing in excitement that in mere seconds it will officially be one year together. 

4….3….2….1

Fireworks exploded, lighting up the sky. Instead of kissing you like you were anticipating, Bradley dropped down to one knee and behind him giant letters lit up, spelling out “MARRY ME”. 

“Sunshine, I asked you to be my girlfriend exactly one year ago right now.” Bradley said, his voice thick with emotion, “Now I’m asking you… will you be my wife? Will you marry, Sunshine?”

“YES!” You exclaimed through tears already falling, “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Cheers erupted from behind the letters as Bradley slipped the ring onto your finger and stood up, pulling you into his arms, picking you up and kissing you as he spun you around. The letters were dropped into the sand as your friends swarmed you both, hugging you and congratulating you. 

Later, once the chaos had calmed and you were dancing in Bradley’s arms to a slow song playing on the jukebox inside the bar, you sighed happily, leaned in closer to him and softly said, “I love how everything wonderful happens at the stroke of midnight.”

***

A/N: Thoughts? Look at me getting TWO things out in one day... PHEW!

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The chain connecting your collar to the table above your head jingled as you moved backwards slightly in anticipation of Master sitting down for his meal. As for every dinner, you were nude and chained under the table as you awaited the arrival of the mafia Don who owned you, Donquixote Doflamingo. The thin golden chain did little to actually keep you from escaping; you could probably break the malleable metal if you really tried. It wasn’t the chain or collar that kept you in your place - it was the man who’d put them on you.

Who owned you completely, from your perfectly styled hair down to the expertly manicured nails of your feet. 

Donquixote Doflamingo.

“Where’s my money?” Donquixote Dolfamingo said as he sat in your brother’s gaming chair. His legs were crossed and his hands steepled as he considered you and your brother with an easy grin. It was almost laughable to see such a powerful, strong, large man in the cheap rolling chair but you didn’t dare move, much less smile. He strode into your shitty apartment minutes before, his minions busting the door wide open and pulling the two of you out of your beds to bring you in front of the mafia Don. You inhaled sharply through your nose as the Don asked for his money, making him turn to you.

Now you were kneeling at his feet in only your pajamas, your hands behind your head and wishing you’d worn something with a little more coverage as you shivered in the cold night air. Your spaghetti strap top provided no protection against the chilly wind coming through the cracked window and your nipples pebbled in the cold air. You’d never met Doflamingo before, never even laid eyes on him, but by the way your brother’s face drained of color it was evident he knew why the Don was in your apartment. You didn’t scream as you were dragged from your room, too in shock to process what was happening.

“Oh? She doesn’t know, Bobby? Your sweet sister doesn’t know what you get up to at night?” Doflamingo asked with a cruel smile. Turning to you, his smile widened as he continued speaking. “Your brother here likes to borrow money and spend it on gambling and drugs,” he said as your brother steadfastly avoided looking at you. Your stomach sank - it was drugs again. “But this time he borrowed more than he could handle, isn’t that right Bobby? And ran off to hide behind his sister. And look where that got you, your sister kneeling before the Don himself,” he said as he leaned forward to pinch your cheek between two large fingers. You knew better than to lean back from the Don’s cruel fingers as the pinch made your face ache. 

You thought about the Don’s words - Bobby had begged you a few weeks prior to let him sleep on your couch. He had looked worse for the wear, his eyebags dark and his face sunken in, but he’d sworn he wasn’t on drugs again. The city had been polluted by a new dealer named Joker, who’d brought in newer, more addicting drugs. They were said to be 10 times more potent but 100 times more addicting.

“Bobby, baby, I’m not gonna ask you again. Where’s my money?” Doflamingo said with a smile as he gestured to your brother with the gun. The Don had a glock in his hand that he was waving as he gesticulated, almost casual in his movements. You winced, hoping the Don wasn’t careless with his aim. Up until this night, you’d never even seen a gun in real life. 

“D-Donquixote, I - I can explain, I can get-” your brother's words were cut off as the Don pistol whipped him across the face, blood spattering on your pajamas as you whimpered and closed your eyes. Bobby spit on the thin carpet and a bloody tooth fell out of his mouth. 

“I didn’t ask for an explanation or for you to get the money. I asked you where it is,” Doflamingo stated, once again leaning back in the gaming chair. He was wearing reflective sunglasses so you were unsure if he was looking at you, if at all. A shiver went down your spine as some creep who looked like he needed to blow his nose leered at you.

“It’s g-gone, please Doflamingo, you - you have to understand -” Your brother stopped speaking as Doflamingo frowned and stood up, putting the barrel of the gun against your brother’s forehead.

“There is nothing I have to do,” he spat, pushing the gun harder into the side of your brother’s head. Bobby closed his eyes and whimpered as you pressed your lips together. “My money’s gone, and where does that leave me, Bobby? What am I gonna do now? You owe a lot and unless you can pay me back tonight, there’s not gonna be much left of your family,” the Don said, his grin growing even wider as he made a forward motion with his index finger. A young man in a horned baseball cap viciously kicked your brother in the stomach, making him double over in pain. 

Holding back your tears as the boy continued kicking your brother, you cast your eyes downward. You desperately wanted to yell at the Don to stop, throw yourself over your baby brother to protect him from the beating, to do anything to prevent what was about to happen. 

You’d bailed out Bobby so many times before, since childhood really. It felt like every time you got some money saved or something went your way, Bobby showed up on your step with his hand out and a sob story to match. You always helped him, he was your little brother, but Bobby had finally gotten himself in so deep he couldn’t get out, and it looked like you wouldn’t either. This was it, the end of the line, you’d die and never even gotten to go to Bali like you’d always wanted - you gathered your courage to speak to the Don, an idea in your mind.

“How much does he owe?” you asked in a small voice, still looking at the Don’s polished leather shoes.

“Over 5 million beri. Are you going to pay for dear little brother?” he asked, putting the barrel of his gun under your chin and pushing your face upward.  Donquixote’s thin eyebrow was raised over his glasses.

“N-not all tonight, but I have some savings. And I can-” you took a deep breath before you continued, “I can work for you to pay off the debt. I’m good at-”

“I don’t need any more workers,” Donquixote replied, as his face turned impassive, the maniacal grin drooping slightly. You closed your eyes as the barrel pushed further into the soft skin under your chin and awaited your fate. Everything was quiet for a few moments as a tear tracked down your cheek, the only sound your brothers soft groans.

“I don’t need workers but I do want a new pet,” the Don stated, your eyes snapping to his gleaming sunglasses. The unnerving  smile had returned to his face but the gun didn’t move as you tried to swallow. Your face must have showed the confusion you felt because Donquixote continued speaking.

“Sell yourself to me for the cost of your brother’s debt. Not forever of course,” the Don purred, removing the barrel from your face as his fingers now stroked your cheek. “It would only be for a few years, or until I release you, whichever comes first. We can hammer out the contract at my penthouse.” Your eyes traveled to look at your brother as the boy ground his hand onto the floor under his shoe, but Doflamingo captured your jaw in his hand, squeezing it harshly. You tried not to whine but the pain was growing by the moment. “Pay attention. Do you accept?”

“Wh- what would I have to do?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the Don. He licked his lips as he released your jaw.

“Does it matter? Either you become my pet or you and Bobby, well, what’s left of you can be buried next to your parents,” he said with a laugh. This time you were able to catch Bobby’s eyes - you’d seen that look so many times before. He was pleading with you to take the offer, to take on his debt at the cost of your own freedom. You didn’t want to be in the service of the Don, but you were the older sister and your parents had made you promise to always take care of your trouble prone younger brother.

“And his debt will be gone? He won’t owe anything?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Free as a bird, no money owed,” he said, spreading his hands as if in a gesture of goodwill. You took one last glance at your brother before taking a deep breath.

“I accept.”

Since that fateful night, you’d become pet to one of the most powerful men in the world. You’d been so anxious that night, you hadn’t read through the contract fully, just signed away your body and soul to Donquixote Doflamingo for an indeterminate amount of time. Just like you agreed, you’d do whatever Master told you to. Including the dinner time ritual. 

Every night, you were primped by attendants for dinner, your gold collar polished to shining. The thin metal leash attached to an eye hook under the table and you awaited the arrival of Master. You’d long since learned what the Don wanted you to call him by means of a wicked spanking the first time you’d used his name.

“Pets don’t call their owners by their names, do they?” Donquixote had crooned as his large palm caressed your deep red ass. You were splayed over his lap, one of his hands pinning your wrists behind your back. Ass high in the air, Donquixote rubbed your tender skin almost soothingly, as if he hadn’t been the one to cause the injury. 

“N-no, Master,” you hiccuped as your tears and snot mixed on his thigh, your face buried into his expansive lap. You were ruining one of his expensive red suits but there wasn’t much you could do in your current position.

“No, they don’t. Now apologize,” he said softly, gripping one cheek in his fingers.

“I’m s-sorry, Master,” you said, hoping the spanking was over but not daring to move. 

“You’re nearly forgiven, Pet,” he’d said, pulling his belt out of the loops of his pants. 

But that was months prior, things were much smoother now for Master. He’d brought you to heel, even if you did need occasional reminders. Now you knew what was expected of you most of the time and acted as he had taught you. Like at dinner, where you’d wait underneath the table until Master gave you the signal. You sat back on your heels as far as you could to allow his long legs as much room as he liked. If you didn’t allow Master enough space he might make you lick his shoes clean again and that hadn’t been an experience you wanted to replicate.

Master arrived shortly thereafter, sitting down at the head of the table. You heard the scraping of chairs against the wooden floor but kept your gaze trained on Master. You had to be ready for his signal otherwise he’d be displeased. Even though you couldn’t see above the table, you’d been at enough dinners to know what was happening. Sr. Pink was engaging with Baby 5 about her day, Buffalo was arguing with Dellinger, Diamante was laughing at something Vergo said, and Master was ruminating. If he had been in a pleasant mood, he would have been talking to Vergo, you thought. 

You waited to determine if the food helped soothe his ire but Master barely spoke at dinner. You heard a bottle of wine being uncorked so Master was likely drinking. You braced yourself for the night to come, hoping that dessert would sway Master away from his bad mood. After a while, another wine bottle was uncorked and you felt his index finger tap your jaw twice as his legs widened their stance. You licked your lips and crawled between Master’s legs, reaching for his belt buckle. With practiced movement, you were able to undo his belt and unzip his pants with little noise; Master didn’t like for you to make sounds until he was ready.

His cock was hardening under your fingertips as you guided his cock out of his suit pants. Even though you sucked him off at least once a day, his size always intimidated you when you began. Master tapped your jaw again once and settled his hand at the base of your neck, his fingers curling into the golden collar. It gave you even less room to breathe but you weren’t going to dislodge his hand.

He was fucking pissed you thought. You sent one final prayer to whoever would listen that he’d calm down with head and wine before you began licking up his shaft with your tongue. Making your way to the head of his cock, you gently took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks with the effort to suck. Master liked high pressure on his cock, which was hard to maintain, but you always tried your best. 

You bobbed your head, taking care that none of your teeth scraped his shaft as the tip began hitting the back of your throat. Master had rid you of your gag reflex as one of the first trainings you’d endured so that you’d be able to suck him the way he enjoyed. The chain jangled as you worked but the tinny sound only made Master harder as he toyed with the chain with his second hand. He soon moved it to one of your breasts, toying now with your nipple in lieu of the chain.

His fingers uncurled from the collar but you had no time to enjoy the relief as he put his palm on the back of your head and pushed you forward. You inhaled through your nose and tried your best to relax your muscles as Master’s cock pushed further and further down your throat. Master’s fingers gripped your hair as you tried to maintain momentum for him. He pulled out his cock to slap your cheek gently a few times but the respite was brief as he pulled you back onto him quickly. 

Your jaw ached and drool was running down your chin by the time he was close. Master’s cock began twitching so you took a gamble and placed your hands on his inner thighs. You’d done it once and been rewarded with a private stroll in the gardens so perhaps it would please him again. Master grunted and his fingertips rubbed your scalp. You could have cried from relief - Master liked the gesture and was now bucking his hips slightly into your mouth.

Moving as fast as your neck allowed, you pushed yourself all the way to the base of his shaft and tried tightening your throat. You maintained momentum, deep throating Master’s cock as a tremor in his leg warned you of his upcoming orgasm. Master’s legs shifted and you were rewarded with a small grunt as his hot come spurted down your throat. His grip was tight on your nipple, it was going to hurt the next day, but you didn’t dare stop. Letting up on the suction, you pulled yourself off him and made sure to lick any remaining come off of him. You removed your hands from his thighs and went back down on all fours, your tits swaying with your movement. 

A few moments later, one of his hands appeared below the table with a piece of chocolate held in his palm. You nuzzled into his hand and began eating, savoring the rare treat at the dinner table. The tips of his fingers curled up to cradle your jaw as you ate the last few remaining bites. Suddenly the grasp tightened as you heard familiar laughter ring out. Instinct had you wanting to shrink back but the chain and hand kept you in place.

“Up now, Pet. Time for my dessert.” Master disconnected the end of the chain from the hook with practiced ease and tugged once. The sweet dessert in your mouth turned sour as you brought yourself up from under the table, crawling between Master’s legs to perch on his lap. He kept the end of your chain in his hand while the other came to squeeze your thigh. His large hands were able to encompass your entire upper thigh, his fingertips close to your center. You only had a few moments before his cock would harden again and he’d take you in any way that struck his fancy. 

He’d bent you over the table, over his chair, had you ride him, had you on your back on the dining table, fingered you, ate you out, and so much more - all in front of the Family. You’d long since become adept at avoiding their gazes and focusing on Master as if he was the only person in the room. Some members of the family liked to watch, some would leave, and some would continue eating as if nothing was happening. 

Apparently he’d had a few pets before you, but none had lasted as long or had been as favored. Master’s fingers crawled forward and you parted your thighs, not wanting to show any hesitance or defiance. Your body had become inured to the nightly routine, preparing itself for what was guaranteed to happen.

“So wet already, Pet. You’re being a good girl for me tonight,” Master said in a low voice into your ear. You shivered from his nearness, but leaned back into his chest, his pink feathery coat tickling the back of your arms. You’d take whatever false comfort you could find, even if it was in the arms of the Don. 

“I’ll make sure you enjoy dessert too,” he said with a laugh, the fingers gripping your thigh bruising the delicate skin.