The first part to my story...it probably sucks cause my brain hates me sometimes but I wanted to go ahead and get this part over with.
Itâs short and sweet because itâs just a little introduction đ
PROLOG
The day was slow for Katalina at the dinner. So slow that she had told her coworker to go home. She only had 2 tables taken up at the moment. One table held an elderly couple, Raymond and tess, they were regulars at the dinner and had become a second family to Katalina. They came in everyday only skipping days when one or the other had a doctors appointment and even then they let Katalina know ahead of time. They always got on to her about her habits of overworking. Ray and Tess never had children. They had tried for many years but were never able to get pregnant so when they started coming to the dinner 4 years ago they decided then that Katalina was their adopted daughter. Ray even went as far as running off anyone who tried to hit on her if he didnât think they were good enough for her.
The other table was taken up by a man who had caught Katalinas interest. He sat alone at the table focusing on whatever papers he had brought with him. He had only ordered a water which was odd to Katalina because nobody ever just ordered a drink. The leather he wore when he first came in was now draped over the side of the seat he sat in. The leather had told her that the man was a prospect of the local motorcycle club the Mayans, which only peaked her interest more.
Katalina had noticed that whatever the man was focused on was causing him stress. He had been there for a little over 2 hours. He had been there so long that she had decided to have the cook in the back make him so food anyway. When she had brought it over to him he had looked up at her confused.
âI didnât order anythingâ he had said
âI know but I figured that whatever got there that youâre trying to figure out you should at least do it while eating. The meal is completely on me of course â
âThatâs really nice of you but I canât-â
âyou have been here for 2 hours and havenât eaten so just take it besides thats 6 bucks out my paycheck so if you donât eat it youâll look like an assâ she said with a smile. They looked at each other for a moment before she was pulled away.
âHey Tess and I are heading out but I wanted to say bye and give you your tipâ the elderly man said handing her a $50
âRay I canât accept thisâ
âKatalina you take care of that girl in Los Angeles and never take care of yourself, we tip you like this so you have more to spend on you my dare so youâre gonna take it or Iâm gonna give it to Jane to put in your paycheckâ
âFine but you guys have to stop giving me so muchâ
âNever gonna happen, now itâs a slow day you should relax why donât you sit down with this young man right hereâ
âRayâ
âWhat Iâm sure he dosent mindâ
âI donât mind I could use some company actuallyâ the man at the table said heâd being lying if he said the short brunette with blue eyes hadnât of peaked his interest either.
âSee he said it himself now sit down and relaxâ
âOkay okay but if I get yelled at Iâm telling Jane itâs your faultâ
âLike she would ever yell at you. She has you down to inherent the dinner when she passes on.â Tess said finally joining in on the conversation and giving Katalina a hug like she always did.
âThatâs not for a long time Tessâ
The older lady just rolled her eyes before shoving her husband out the door so they could get home to her dog. After a few seconds Katalina looked back at the man sat at the table.
âI donât have to sit you knowâ she said
âI know but I really donât mind, these papers are racking my brain and I could use a break from them.â
âOkay Iâll sit but only if you promise to eatâ
âDealâ he said and then Katalina sat across from him
âGot a name then?â She asked with a smile.
âEzekiel but everyone calls me Ez and from what I heard, your name is Katalinaâ
âOh god no.....I mean yes thatâs my name but please call me Katâ
The two spent hours talking there. Katalina had only received one more customer who had ordered a pick up meal so her and Ez had all the time to talk. He stayed with her while she cleaned and locked up. Then being the gentleman he is and knowing damn well his mother would have slapped him if he didnât, he walked Katalina to her car before wishing her a good night and waiting until she was in the car before climbing on his bike and leaving after she did.
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premise: thereâs always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didnât take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.
pairing: joel miller x (f)reader
word count: 6.2k
warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).
note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and iâm actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is iâm sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so donât be an ass and steal it tysm <3
Thereâs words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for meâŠ
But they just canât seem to come out. The speech part of your brainâand your heartâaching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joelâs name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joelâs weight off of the bloodied body below it.
The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesnât state itâshow it as he grips the steering wheel. Youâve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.
Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.
"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.Â
"Yeah, heâs not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."
"Canât tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."
"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. Iâve seen her make jocks cry."
"Thatâs my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlishâand foolishâspark in your stomach.Â
Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.Â
A girl can dream.Â
And she has. Embarrassingly.Â
The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.
An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadnât taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.Â
And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of airâwhen Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyesâthat adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.Â
Gratefulness.Â
Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?Â
When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.Â
Heâs worried heâs upset you. As if he's done something wrong.
When he insists on driving you home you donât argue. Wouldnât dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.
Thatâs the thing about Joel.Â
He was always there.Â
If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.Â
Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadnât sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasnât gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.Â
And after heâs pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, itâs Joel who finally speaks.Â
Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.Â
"Iâm sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."Â
And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"
"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ainât ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."Â
"Hey! I could punch someone."Â
"Could and would are two different things."Â
"You sayin I couldnât?"Â
"Iâm sayin' you wouldnât."Â
"Not tough enough?"Â
"Your heart's too big."Â
"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, youâd think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because heâs grinning at you. "Youâre lucky youâre injured."Â
"Iâm shaking in my boots."Â
"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But heâs a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.
Thereâs a list youâve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.
"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didnât hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."
He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word youâre saying, even if you know he hates the fact that youâre thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.
Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his handâthe one spot the blood didnât cake on to. "Does it hurt?"Â
"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, itâs nothing more than a cat scratch."Â
"You should still get it looked at."
"Youâre looking at it, arenât ya?"Â
Your eyes roll. "Iâm not a doctor, Joel."Â
"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."
"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didnât get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."
"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and youâre tellin me you make that in tips?"Â
"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.Â
A hissâand a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown menâhas Joelâs hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.Â
"I thought you said it didnât hurt?" You smirk playfully.Â
"Whiskeyâs wearin' off," he grunts.Â
"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution youâve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "Youâre human after all," his eyes roll.Â
"Donât alert the press."Â
"Oh, theyâve already been informed."Â
His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aidsâthe only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insistedâfrom falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness heâs never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldnât be making you feel feverish and cheeky.Â
When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing youâd worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isnât written all over your face when you look over at Joel and heâs staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion heâs feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.Â
After the band-aids have been stuck and youâve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.Â
"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."
"Sheâs with a friend tonight."Â
"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joelâs outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.Â
He snorts, "donât know about all that."
"Iâm sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.Â
"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "Sheâll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"
"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."
"Itâs deadly."
"Truly."
"Iâm sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."Â
You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.Â
But to youâand those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked onâyou knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.Â
"Youâre a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasnât?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like theyâve seen better daysâis in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.
No one had acted as quick as Joel had.Â
Joel Miller was a good man.Â
"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.Â
And if you were being honest with yourself, you didnât know.Â
Couldnât answer that question with the full truth because you didnât know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldnât kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.
Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldnât take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.Â
So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.Â
"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because itâs not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and theyâve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least youâre not lonely, and your house smells really good."Â
The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joelâs face. See that heâs finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.Â
You do, and you wish you hadnât. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadnât imagined this being in your future when youâd walked into work. But youâre looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.Â
Thereâs a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and youâll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.
What you donât expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.Â
When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldnât speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything youâre feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"Â
"A whatâpity kiss?"Â
"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"Â
Joelâs breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone whoâd pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didnât just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, Iâm either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."
"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"Â
"Exactly."Â
There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.
"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was youâŠflirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please donât say Tommy."
"No. If I had listened to him weâd beâ" he doesnât finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.Â
And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasnât your forte, maybe you couldnât do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didnât hesitate.Â
"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.
An agreement.Â
"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know youâll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.Â
"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.Â
"Yes, maâam." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so youâre grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.Â
Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.
Your heart feels as if itâs beating a hole through your chest, like itâll fall into Joelâs hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. Heâs taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.Â
His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.Â
The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you canât stand not having him inside of you.Â
He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beardâscalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.Â
"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until itâs pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.
If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.
The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.Â
You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks heâs leaving on your inner thighâall a certain type of torture you donât think youâre strong enough to put up with right now.Â
You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but heâs speaking before you can.Â
"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.
The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.Â
It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didnât think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.Â
Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands youâve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until youâre panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joelâfuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.Â
Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joelâs fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until heâs reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.
The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.Â
"Youâre overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.
"Do you wanna change that?"Â
The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."Â Thereâs a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that heâs fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.
It can be all about you.
It is all about you.
You deserve nothing less.
His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.Â
Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless youâd rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."
"I caused?" His brows shoot up.Â
"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl awayâa problem you foresee in the near future.
The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.Â
Is this how itâs supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure firstâto tasteâand take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.
He wasnât thinking about himself after the fact. Wasnât rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.
You really did date assholes.Â
Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until youâve reached where heâs hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.Â
"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.Â
He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesnât actually want to push it past the points youâve already reached. Maybe itâs too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendshipâeven if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.Â
He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because heâs scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like Iâm some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I donât have-"
And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.
"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.Â
"Glad Iâm amusinâ to you."Â
Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far youâve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "Iâm good if you are."Â
Iâm clean.
I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I donât want any surprises.Â
Weâre protected.
Now take me already.
The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lipâspeaks for you.
Itâs all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until heâs completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.Â
And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when heâs grunting and youâre begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where heâs pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until thereâs no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.
"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way youâre learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you needâmore, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.Â
There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.Â
When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.Â
"Sound sâpretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice heâs already pushed you from. "Canât believe I held myself back from you."
"Joel."
"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, tânot love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.Â
"Thatâs it, sweetheart." Heâs encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swishâbit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.Â
And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spineâthereâs cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommyâs going to have a heyday."
"He owes me fifty bucks."
Thereâs faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"
"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."Â
"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.Â
"I ainât soft." He grumbles.
"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so youâre on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."
"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.
"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.
"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.
A/N: Katherine McNamara will be the face of Katalina. In some gifs she will have red hair but my character has brown hair.....confusing I know but Katherine has the face I imagine for Katalina.
Iâm an idiot, it was way to fucking cold to be walking home. I had a crazy day at the dinner. It was like everyone in the entirety of Santo Padre decided to eat at the dinner today and I was the only one on shift so of course I was busting my ass all damn day. Jane stopped by the dinner before closing to drop off some extra uniforms and had promised to make it up to me in return.
My day continued to be shitty when I tried to start my car only for it to crap out resulting in me having to walk home alone at 11:30 at night. My only hope was the Ez had decided to stay in his camper tonight so I didnât have to hear him yell at me for not calling him. He hates when I do anything alone at night because itâs ânot safeâ.
Once I finally made it to my front door I let out a sigh. It was a long day and all I wanted to do was take a shower and relax since I had the next 4 days off, however, the relaxation didnât happen because when I got in the house and turned around I got the scare of my life.
âHoly Jesus fucking Christ what the fuckâ I said as a placed my hand on my heart and leaned back against the door.
âYou should have seen your faceâ he chuckled turning his head away from my tv to look at me
âShut the fuck up you almost gave me a heart attackâ
âIâm almost always here I donât see how you didnât expect meâ
âYah I know itâs just been a long day, the dinner was full all dayâ I said kicking his feet of my coffee table and walking past him into my room.
âAlright well now that youâre here Iâll go get us some food while you showerâ
âGet tacosâ I said peaking my head around my bedroom door
âI know what you want Kat, you donât have to tell meâ he said with a chuckle
âYah yah yah just hurry the fuck up im hungry I havenât eaten since breakfast and donât even try to yell at for it cause I didnât have timeâ I said going back into my bathroom and starting my shower
It only took a few minutes before I heard Ez come back in my room and standing by my bathroom door and it was then that I realized the lecture about walking home was gonna start because of my lack of car in the driveway
âKatalina ?â The use of my full name was never a good sign, he was upset and I was undoubtedly about to get a lecture
âYes Ezekiel ?â
âWhere the hell is your car?â He asked
âAt the dinner, it wouldnât start so I just walkedâ
âYou walked home at 11:30 at nightâ he paused and sighed before countinuing âKat we talked about this, you should have just called meâ
âI know but I didnât feel like it and Iâm clearly fine so just go get my foodâ
âJust call me next time okay, I know you refuse to ride on my bike but Iâll borrow dads truck if I have toâ
âI know you will but I donât get what the big deal is, the dinner is only 2 miles awayâ I said getting out of the shower and wrapping my towel around me before exiting and entering my room.
âItâs not safe at night and I just want to keep you safeâ heâs caring nature is what I love and hate the most about him. Heâs so caring that I know I can count on him if I ever need him but on the other hand he was overprotective. Heâs even gone as far as meeting me at work when Iâd work super late just so he could drive behind me. Sometimes he forgets I know how to take care of myself.
âI know you do Ez and I appreciate it but we both know I can take care of myself I did have an older brother you knowâ I said while grabbing my shirt and shorts from my bed.
âAlright Iâll be back in 30 minutesâ he said walking out the door before stopping and saying something else.
âIâm taking your keys tooâ
âYou gonna lock me in or something?â I said pulling the shirt over my head and walked over shoving him out the door.....or trying to anyway, the man is a fucking brick wall.
âDonât tempt meâ
âWhatever Iâll be here when you get backâ
ââââââ
3rd person pov
Ez walked in the house, closing the door and hanging up Kats keys by the door. From the light in in the kitchen he knew thatâs where she was, most likely putting away the dishes she had washed this morning before heading to work.
âIâm backâ he called in hopes of not scarring her this time. âI got salsa tooâ he said as he walked into her kitchen
âThis is why you are my best friendâ she said as she placed the last dish in the dishwasher.
Ez and Katalina had an odd relationship. To the outside world they looked as if they were together however they werenât. Ez and Kat had become friends 6 months ago when he came into the dinner. After a month of then being friends Katalina found out that he was living in a camper and she refused to let him constantly stay there so she offered him her couch for the times he didnât want to be in his camper.
Now months later itâs rare that heâs not sleeping on her couch. Only on nights that the club has him out late does he stay in the camper so he dosent wake her up. They spend so much time together that some club members think they are together just donât want to tell anyone.
âSo how was your day, hope it was better then mineâ Katalina asked after grabbing Ez a beer and her a water out the fridge.
Truth was Ezs day most likely wasnât better than hers. He had spent the day running around with the club and then spent a few hours after bishop let him go looking over stuff about Happy. Lying to Katalina after she had be there for him was something he hated. He couldnât tell her anything and he hated it. He trusted her more then anything but he wasnât going to put her in the line of fire. Of course Katalina being the woman she was she understood that he couldnât tell her about club business or about happy.
âIt was okayâ he said
âJust okay?â
âYupâ he said and they sat down to eat.
âââ-
It had been a few hours after EZ went to get food. After they finished they sat down on her small couch to watch tv when she ended up falling asleep. It was 30 minutes later when she turned over and her head ended up on his shoulder causing his heartbeat to skip. This wasnât the first time she had fallen asleep on him. He could move her to her room if he wanted too but the risk of waking her up after a long day was too great so he settled for wrapping his arms around her pulling the blanket from the side and covering them both.
Ez would never admit it to anyone but he had started to develop feeling for Katalina in the last 6 months. He would never act on them, he had this overwhelming need to keep her safe in anyway possible. Just being his friend could put a target on her back for club shit she has nothing to do with. He cared for her greatly and even though he had these feelings for her he would much rather suppress them then to risk the chance of her getting hurt because of him. At least this way if it came down too it he could lie and say she was just a friend and that she meant nothing to him even if it wasnât true.
There was also the Emily situation. He thought after helping her with her son that she would leave him alone but here he was declining her call for the 6th time tonight since he had got back with the food. Whatever it was that she wanted could wait, right now all EZ cared about was not waking up the girl sleeping in his arms.
The first part to my story...it probably sucks cause my brain hates me sometimes but I wanted to go ahead and get this part over with.
Itâs short and sweet because itâs just a little introduction đ
PROLOG
The day was slow for Katalina at the dinner. So slow that she had told her coworker to go home. She only had 2 tables taken up at the moment. One table held an elderly couple, Raymond and tess, they were regulars at the dinner and had become a second family to Katalina. They came in everyday only skipping days when one or the other had a doctors appointment and even then they let Katalina know ahead of time. They always got on to her about her habits of overworking. Ray and Tess never had children. They had tried for many years but were never able to get pregnant so when they started coming to the dinner 4 years ago they decided then that Katalina was their adopted daughter. Ray even went as far as running off anyone who tried to hit on her if he didnât think they were good enough for her.
The other table was taken up by a man who had caught Katalinas interest. He sat alone at the table focusing on whatever papers he had brought with him. He had only ordered a water which was odd to Katalina because nobody ever just ordered a drink. The leather he wore when he first came in was now draped over the side of the seat he sat in. The leather had told her that the man was a prospect of the local motorcycle club the Mayans, which only peaked her interest more.
Katalina had noticed that whatever the man was focused on was causing him stress. He had been there for a little over 2 hours. He had been there so long that she had decided to have the cook in the back make him so food anyway. When she had brought it over to him he had looked up at her confused.
âI didnât order anythingâ he had said
âI know but I figured that whatever got there that youâre trying to figure out you should at least do it while eating. The meal is completely on me of course â
âThatâs really nice of you but I canât-â
âyou have been here for 2 hours and havenât eaten so just take it besides thats 6 bucks out my paycheck so if you donât eat it youâll look like an assâ she said with a smile. They looked at each other for a moment before she was pulled away.
âHey Tess and I are heading out but I wanted to say bye and give you your tipâ the elderly man said handing her a $50
âRay I canât accept thisâ
âKatalina you take care of that girl in Los Angeles and never take care of yourself, we tip you like this so you have more to spend on you my dare so youâre gonna take it or Iâm gonna give it to Jane to put in your paycheckâ
âFine but you guys have to stop giving me so muchâ
âNever gonna happen, now itâs a slow day you should relax why donât you sit down with this young man right hereâ
âRayâ
âWhat Iâm sure he dosent mindâ
âI donât mind I could use some company actuallyâ the man at the table said heâd being lying if he said the short brunette with blue eyes hadnât of peaked his interest either.
âSee he said it himself now sit down and relaxâ
âOkay okay but if I get yelled at Iâm telling Jane itâs your faultâ
âLike she would ever yell at you. She has you down to inherent the dinner when she passes on.â Tess said finally joining in on the conversation and giving Katalina a hug like she always did.
âThatâs not for a long time Tessâ
The older lady just rolled her eyes before shoving her husband out the door so they could get home to her dog. After a few seconds Katalina looked back at the man sat at the table.
âI donât have to sit you knowâ she said
âI know but I really donât mind, these papers are racking my brain and I could use a break from them.â
âOkay Iâll sit but only if you promise to eatâ
âDealâ he said and then Katalina sat across from him
âGot a name then?â She asked with a smile.
âEzekiel but everyone calls me Ez and from what I heard, your name is Katalinaâ
âOh god no.....I mean yes thatâs my name but please call me Katâ
The two spent hours talking there. Katalina had only received one more customer who had ordered a pick up meal so her and Ez had all the time to talk. He stayed with her while she cleaned and locked up. Then being the gentleman he is and knowing damn well his mother would have slapped him if he didnât, he walked Katalina to her car before wishing her a good night and waiting until she was in the car before climbing on his bike and leaving after she did.
Johnny Depp deserves better. AH was caught on tape admitting she started physical fights, mocking and calling him a baby when he peacefully walked away. Thereâre medical records, uncensored photo of his severed finger after she threw a bottle at him and it sliced off the tip of his finger. Imagine if the genders were reversed and JD were a woman and AH were a man, the media wouldnât have sided with AH. Itâs messed up that we live in a society where âmen canât be victims of domestic violence and women canât be abusers.â Abuse has no gender. Men can be victims and women can be abusers. Iâm saying this as a woman, AHâs lies harm not only Johnny but also every other victim of domestic violence, her lies make it harder for victims to come forward with their stories and be believed. She should be ashamed.
Johnny Depp deserves justice. Every victim/survivor of domestic violence deserves justice.
i just wanted to say that I finally got a computer which means ill be writing more. i may be a page dedicated to Mayans but I want to start writing for other shows, characters and people. I want to be able to write for more then one show. Here is a list of who I WILL write for.
Mayans
Sons of AnarchyÂ
Outer banks
The 100
supernatural
The royalsÂ
Harry potter charactersÂ
the WitcherÂ
BTS
BigBang (minus you know who)
Got7
5sos
Rio from good girlsÂ
There are many more I will write for but I didnât want to make this extremely long.
please feel free to request for whoever you want. if Iâm not familiar with who you want i will ask you to explain and try my best.Â
i hope you all are having an amazing day or night!
titsay
romaincrisis
snowghoul
janainaart
discoholicmusic
