!18+MDNI! AU, Jack Abbot/Andrew Cody(not a veteran in this AU, but is still an amputee due to other circumstances), OFC, strong language used, no use of y/n, no smut (yet), no descriptors other than long black hair. Jack (37&50) deals with a lot of mental illness struggle. OFC Morgan Vaughn (24&37) has some struggles as well. !!WARNING: speaking of death bad relationships and nightmares!!
Although it's been years since the two have seen each other it's like they never lost sight of one another. Morgan Vaughn is a waiter by day (some nights) and a mural artist in her free time. She's 37 in the present but will be younger as chapters progress during flashback scenes.
Jack Abbot isn't who everyone thinks he is but Morgan knows the real Jack. Only difference is that she used to know him as Andrew "Pope" Cody.
Through their reconnection, the two will relearn each other as they are now.
ao3
masterlist
wc: 2,572
divider credit: @uzmacchiato
Sirens blaring, a 4:30 a.m. alarm going off for the third time, the street lights peering through the crack of the sheer curtains; this was a typical wake up call for Morgan Vaughn. But, there was a new development in her morning routine.
Dreams, more likely nightmares, had been taking over her normally peaceful nights of sleep. Her mind went to a thousand different places.
Why did this have to start now? Why did the nightmares or whatever they were have to be about HIM? Am I really sure it’s him, I can barely see his face… But it’s his voice…
All the while her duvet was cascading down from her mid torso to the floor of her five hundred square foot studio apartment. Her body and the covers were drenched in sweat. She kicked off her duvet and it fell the rest of the way to the floor.
Morgan snapped into a seated position before shoving herself back into the headboard. She shook her hands out at her sides while taking a deep breath. Her hand slammed into the off button for her alarm. The thirty-seven year old woman’s body went into autopilot. She sat at the edge of the bed before shoving herself up by her hands, made her way out of bed, feet shuffling on the carpet and then sticking to the vinyl flooring of her bathroom. Her fingers on her right hand found the light switch and flipped it on. With both hands on either side of the sink she made eye contact with herself, her hair, now long dark tendrils matted to her neck and face from the nightmare.
“Fuck, I need to shower…” Morgan whined to herself. She reached her hands up to her face, pushing her hair out of her face before turning to rip open the shower curtain and leaning down to turn the water faucet to scorching. As she pulled the plunger to switch from the bath to shower head, it sputtered, as always. “Mother fucker!” She reached up to rap at the pipe until the water was a steady stream.
It wasn’t long before she’d stepped out of the shower, wrapped the towel around her body after drying off and going back to her room. She turned to look at her alarm clock, it read, “4:45a.m.”
“Fuck,” she dragged it out in a rush, “fuck fuck fuck fuck!” She beat her personal record getting ready this morning. Out the door by 5:00 a.m. and on her way to the dinner two blocks from her little apartment building.
When Morgan arrived at work, she was greeted by Kathleen, the night manager of the Mama’s Diner, in the West End of Pittsburgh.
Kathleen the much older, greyed, slightly downtrodden woman had worked at Mama’s for twenty some odd years. Her and Morgan created a bond over the past six of those twenty something years. Kind of like a distant aunt and her reluctant niece.
“Morning, doll, rough night?” The older of the two asked, looking at Morgan through her brows, as she was bussing tables before the morning rush of drunk college students made their way in.
“‘s that obvious?” Morgan’s voice heavy and torn. She rolled her eyes and tilted her head toward the floor. Raising her arm she slapped it to her thigh before walking through the lift-gate of the counter. She went through the kitchen waved at the line cooks and made her way to the break room to set her bag down.
“Good morning, Doctor. How was your shift?” Kathleen’s voice could be heard by Morgan through the kitchen door.
“Morning, Leenie. Could’ve gone better, but when do the night crawlers ever let up?” A raspy tired voice followed. A voice Morgan wasn’t familiar with or so she thought.
“The regular?” Kathy’s voice was more quiet as she pulled the pot of drip coffee off the hot plate on the machine and poured the man’s first cup.
The soft tink of the glass hitting the counter as Morgan made her way back through the kitchen door.
She got back behind the counter and grabbed her apron off the hooks next to the cash register. The younger woman wrapped the fabric around her waist before placing her order pad and pens inside the pockets, along with some straws and napkins.
When she was done she looked up to see an older man sitting at the counter looking with a coffee on the countertop and a menu in his hands. He was wearing all black scrubs, a badge hanging from his chest pocket, the most outer collar of a white shirt peeking through that of his scrub top.
“Andrew?” Morgan whispered under her breath. Then once more, a little louder while stepping closer to him. “Andrew?” He didn’t move, it was him though, it had to have been.
“What’s that?” His brow raised slightly but he still wasn’t looking in Morgan’s direction.
She walked in front of him making sure Kathy wasn’t anywhere near the two of them. “Pope? Is that you?” Her voice soft and timid. Her brow furrowed as she focused on every wrinkle, freckle and scar on the man’s face. Morgan felt that her mouth had fallen open slightly and could feel the quake of her heartbeat in her neck.
“Andrew Cody, I know it’s you. Why ar-“ she was cut off when he looked through her. His head shot up, the menu slapped down but not loud enough to disturb anyone else. He looked at her through his brows, hungry, angry, but softer than she’d remembered this kind of stare.
“Maze?” His face completely softened, his sunburst eyes turned into those wimpy pathetically delicate ones she’d seen so many times before.
But this time they were paired with grey hair framing his beautiful face, always perfectly placed curls but never this peppered with age. He smiled wide, she’d only ever seen it once, but good god was it something to behold. His eyes were accompanied by lines of years’ old stories she hadn’t been around for, obviously. She looked down at his hands that were resting perpendicularly to his body on the counter. Her eyes trailing down his incredibly toned arms to his hands to find a wedding ring. When did Andrew get married?
“Morgan?” His mellow graveled tone brought her out of it and her focus shot back to his face.
“Maze, huh, I haven’t heard that in what? Thirteen years?” She tried to come off like the old her, sarcastic and confident, but she knew Andrew could see right through her.
“It’s been that long, hasn’t it?” Pope reached up with his left hand to his face to rub the stubble on his cheek a bit, he looked exhausted.
“Yeah, long enough for you to become a doctor?” Morgan’s face tightened a bit in confusion as she pointed with her whole hand, moving it up and down to present his own appearance to the man.
“Oh, that. I also don’t go by Andrew, or Pope for that matter anymore.” He bit his lower lip exposing his top teeth just a bit and sucking in air to make a sort of trilling sound. Before looking down at his identification badge, taking it off and laying it in the counter face up and pushing it toward Morgan.
She picked it up with hesitation. It had a picture of Andrew on the left side and to the right the emblem of the hospital PTMC and read:
PITTSBURGH
TRAINING MEDICAL CENTER
JACK ABBOT, MD
ATTENDING PHYSICIAN
Morgan set the badge back down. “Doctor of Medicine, huh? And an attending? You know we don't get a lot of you here.” She smirked but she could feel the confusion coming off in her voice and wasn’t quite able to manipulate her voice the way she wanted to make it come off smoothly.
“Maze, I come here at least twice a month, I just make sure I’m here and gone before you come in. I, I didn’t want you to see me and remember ev-“ Pope, no, Jack? Who knew at that point, was interrupted by a small group of four or five college students coming in after a rowdy night at the local pubs.
Well what do I call him then? Jack? I mean I guess, since that’s what’s on his badge…
She watched his eyes avert to the group of young adults with that soft menacing glare he gave her before. But Morgan’s attention went straight to the group as they all sat along the counter three chairs away from Jack.
“Good morning, kiddos, what can I get for you?” She grabbed menus and slid them to each one of the new guests. All of the students asked for the same thing, orange juice and a slugger, the number one selling combo at Mama’s.
As the food came out and people started flooding in, the sun started rising. Jack had moved from the counter to a booth on the corner by the giant windows covering the east wall of the diner. His eyes would shift from his phone to Morgan and the guests rotating in and out of the restaurant.
Every now and then she’d check on him, not refill his coffee or ask how he was doing, she let the other waitstaff do that, she was too busy with the west side of the diner. She was too nervous anyway. So, she’d just shoot him a glance every now and then, occasionally catching his eye contact. It made her that much more anxious that he was there.
Why did he change his name? Why didn’t he ever try to contact her? How the fuck did he get the courage to ask a woman to marry him? How did Andrew Cody become a doctor?
Morgan had no clue who this man was, she knew Andrew Cody, but her mind couldn’t even begin to wonder who Jack Abbot could’ve been.
The morning rush had slowed by 8:15 a.m. Jack was still there, sitting in the corner booth, but he looked uncomfortable. His face was twisted up half the time and was constantly readjusting. So, Morgan sauntered over to him from behind the counter.
“You good, Po- Jack?” She looked at him hoping he hadn’t caught her slip up, but who was she kidding? Of course he did. Morgan pursed her lips and put her hands on her hind as she sat in the booth seat opposite Jack.
When she was seated Jack shifted in his spot. His back straightened, elbows resting on the table, fingers fiddling with his wedding band. The other man’s eyes focusing on his hands then trailing over to meet Morgan’s, whose were locked onto his thick digits.
“I’m alright, Maze, sorry if that name bothers you, please let me know if it gets to be too much.” His voice was so much softer than she'd remembered.
When Morgan met Andrew she was a scared twenty-four year old and he was thirty-seven, the age she is now. He was always so soft with her, but never this soft. What happened to Pope?
“No, Jack, do I call you that or?” She trailed of a bit before continuing. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, well not you, but Andrew,” she felt a dry ball grow in the back of her throat and swallowed hard. “I’ve, fuck, I’ve been having nightmares about you, I thought you’d gotten caught, thought you were in jail.”
Why am I just spilling my guts out to him? I haven’t seen him in over a decade…
Jack’s face dropped, but not in a disappointed or upset way, it was the face of concern and guilt. “Morgan, I’m so sorry, I have a lot of explaining to do. We can’t really discuss anything here and I truly want to get to know you again before we have those discussions. I’ve thought about you quite a bit throughout the years and fuck has it torn me up.” He looked so defeated, not just from his night at the hospital, but from the years of life that had passed. He’d definitely been in turmoil more than once, Morgan could clearly see the wear on the parts of his body that were exposed.
“An- Jack, I’m just happy to see you safe. Changed, for what I can only hope is for the better,” as she said her last few words Morgan reached into the two pockets of her apron pulling out her order pad and a pen and set them on the table. “Here’s my number, so we can catch up,” she quickly wrote down her number and instinctively drew a small heart next to it, then tore off the page and passed it to Jack.
He picked the piece of paper up and focused on the small heart long enough for the younger woman to notice. “Thank you,” he sounded a little choked up and Morgan had wondered if he was thinking about all the things that they’d gone through together all those years ago as well.
“Of course, I’ve missed my friend,” she smiled softly and rose from the booth. “Go home to your wife Jack and get some sleep.” The wrinkles on Jack's forehead deepened and his brow scrunched as his eyes bored into Morgan’s.
That fucking ball of dryness found its home in the back of her throat again. She hadn’t seen that look of this man’s face in well over a decade and it terrified her, it wasn’t the softer version this time, no, it was Pope Cody looking at her.
“Jack? What did I do?” She could feel herself turning into that scared twenty-four year old woman again. Standing next to Andrew’s brothers while he raged at an old colleague or defended her from a nasty situation with a partner.
“She’s dead, Maze, she died five years ago,” his face immediately softened. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. You wouldn’t have known that,” he looked up at Morgan with those big gorgeous, tear filled, bluish hazel eyes of his.
“No no no no no,” she quickly sat next to him and put her arms around him, his head fell to her chest. She rested her chin on top of his head. “You don’t need to apologize,” she shushed him softly as he started to bawl in the mostly empty diner. Luckily the other waitstaff and guests were seated around the alcove on the other side of the building.
They stayed like that for what Morgan felt like an eternity. She hadn’t expected for the first time seeing Pope, in thirteen years, would be like one of the many times she had last seen him. She didn’t really expect to ever see him again. Maybe seeing her was the reason he broke at such a mundane misunderstanding.
After a Jack collected himself he apologized profusely, offering to tip Morgan over two hundred percent of what the bill was worth and telling her to let him do anything at all for disturbing her work environment. He’d been coming to this diner the whole time and knew she was there.
Why did he decide to come in on her shift this time? Did it just slip his mind? Was he having the nightmares too? Did he need to see her and talk to her too?
thank you all so much in advance for reading. it has been such a long time since l've written anything and this was just ready to get out of my brain and onto the interwebs. if you'd like to be tagged in new chapters just let me know and don't be afraid to critique or even show some love!
A guy in an entomology group I'm in got a confirmed brown recluse bite because he felt something tickle his neck and brushed it off, accidentally mashing the spider against his skin. This is how almost all recluse bites happen since they're very very unaggressive.
Anyway the bite was just a small nasty spot that cleared up on its own, but his hands and feet swelled up really bad. Then when the swelling went back down, all his calluses were loose and just fell right off leaving his hands and feet like brand new???????????
Warnings: !18+MDNI! NO outbreak AU, fem!afab!reader, no use of y/n, small age gap (reader is 28, Joel is 36, Tommy is 33), no physical description of reader, use of pet names, smut, crying, perv!Joel, Tommy and reader get frisky, aggressive clothing removal. joel trying to gaslight reader and it not working, tommy is mr. steal your reader. (if i missed anything please let me know.)
Pairing: best friend!Joel x reader & bestfriend!Tommy x reader
Liar Masterlist
credit to @saradika for the cute little dividers
Summary: You and Tommy explore things outside the lines of friendship and Joel can't bear it.
word count: 2.6k
Joel went back to the beach house - alone -the night of your disastrous birthday party. All throughout the next day he switched between the couch and his bed every few hours constantly checking his phone for a message or call from you. He knew he’d royally fucked up, but didn’t want to be the one to make the first move.
Why am I so fuckin’ stupid? What the fuck did you do?
Those two questions swirled in Joel’s brain like an F5 tornado. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what would’ve possessed him to kiss that bitch.
The sun was getting lower in the sky when he decided to slip on some shoes and head out for a walk. He needed to try to think about anything but the situation.
Joel found himself at the entrance of the hotel you and Tommy were staying in, he walked into the lobby and sat on a chair near the cafe. One of the receptionists asked him if he needed any help checking in but was cut off by Tommy taking a seat.
“She doesn’t want to see you, brother,” his expression was stern and somber. Joel could tell how disappointed Tommy had become.
“I need to see-,” Joel was captivated by your steps, he’d recognize them anywhere.
Before you noticed he mustered a greeting. “Hey, pretty girl.” His voice felt groggy. It was the effect you had on him.
“Joel, why are you here?” You’d rolled your eyes at him so many times before, but he could tell this wasn’t the normal playful roll.
“I wanted to apologize for what I did to ya. It was a horrible mistake, especially because of the circumstances. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby.” The words slipped from Joel’s mouth in pitiful haste. He wasn't one to beg or plead for forgiveness. But by this point, he was on his knees.
Your hand found its way to your hip and Joel’s eyes tracked every movement that came along with it. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl, I never ever meant to hurt ya. I should’ve known better than to drink and-,” he was almost in tears as he spoke.
“Please stand up and let’s go talk about this in the room or something, you’re just embarrassing me more, Joel.” You angrily whispered to him but without hesitation he followed your desires. He followed you to the room, Tommy not far behind.
As Joel followed you into the room, Tommy kept himself in the hallway and waited in case he had to rescue you from his brother again.
“I’m not doing this today, alright? There’s no way in hell that you think I’m gonna forgive you in less than a day,” you were so angry and he could tell, he’d never seen you like this and it was killing him.
You were pacing the room and his eyes were glued to you. Every inch of you ignited something in that man. Joel felt like he was about to have a heart attack from wanting to show you how sorry he’d been.
“No, not at all, baby girl, I just want to be able to tell ya how much I hate that I hurt you and that I couldn't sleep last night because of how worried I was about you.” His eyes were filled with tears.
You’d never seen him like this and it was rather amusing. Groveling at your feet was a man that’d been so emotionless until the last few days. It made you feel powerful against him and you were going to use Joel’s meekness to your advantage.
“Give me two days, Miller, then we’ll come back to whatever this is and have a serious discussion.” You repositioned the canvas tote bag on your shoulder and walked to the door, opening it and motioning for him to leave the room.
Joel stepped past the threshold and looked at his brother,”let me know if y’all need anything,” he pat Tommy on his shoulder and left with his lips pursed. You watched from the door as his heavy steps faded down the hall to the stairs.
You stood at the door for what felt like an eternity, feeling a pit in your stomach started to cave in. You loved Joel, but you needed to make sure that you didn’t love someone else just as much.
As you turned to look at Tommy, a pang of desire filled the cavernous knot in your belly. “Get in here, mister.” Tommy was quick to follow orders.
“I need you to do something for me,” your eyes were dark, pupils blown out, and it was having an effect on Tommy that he wasn’t willing to admit.
“What is it?” His eyes nervously fluttered around the room.
“Come here and kiss me, I need to know that this isn’t a fluke.” Since Tommy accidentally texted you the day prior and helped you in your heartache, there’d been this bubble of mystery peeking through your chest.
“I-I can’t honey, Joel’d kill me if he found out, and I tell ‘em everything.” He was so nervous, you inched your body close to his, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lips inches apart.
“Tommy, kiss me, please.” Your voice was close to breaking when you felt the wet warmth of his lips on yours. It was a tender kiss, but you bothe wanted more, as your eyes closed he took the lead. The pace had changed when your best friend put his hands on either side of your jaw, his tongue politely asking for entry past your lips.
His hands found their way to your waist and he helped move you to one of the beds, you leaned back as his strong arms guided you gently onto the mattress. Tommy’s denim-clad hips were grinding ever so slightly into that butterfly inducing spot between your thighs. A cold feeling from the air conditioning hit your parted mouths as he stood to take off his shirt. Christ, was it just in the Miller men’s genetics to be built like Greek gods?
“Are you okay with this?” A whine and nod is all that came from you. His eyes went dark the same way Joel’s did and it hit you like a ton of bricks.
What the fuck were you doing? Is this what you needed to process what this man’s older brother did to you? I mean it wasn’t like Joel was your boyfriend or anything.
You really didn’t care when Tommy lifted your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, he could see the outline of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric.
“I need you to tell me what I’m about to do is ok, baby.” His hands took a tight grip of the small piece of fabric between your breasts. You offered him a hesitant nod.
“Words, little girl, I need you to use ‘em.” Tommy was stern, far more than Joel.
“Just don’t hurt me, Tommy.” A small chuckle left his belly. With a fast pull of his hand, the small string holding the suit together at your sternum was in shreds. It sent a shiver down your spine, you knew Tommy was strong, but good grief.
“Fuck,” you whimpered as he carefully folded back the two triangles of material. The last two minutes had aided in the growth of a wet pool in between your legs.
“I’d never hurt you, baby doll.” The same smirk that his older brother possessed graced Tommy’s lips.
Tommy’s weight had cascaded upon you again, your legs parting involuntarily to allow him between them. His lips once again found yours. It was a sloppy exchange but you didn’t get this with Joel and fuck was it good, you weren’t drunk this time.
He repositioned himself so that his mouth was aligned with your chest. He peppered soft wet kisses from one nipple to the other. A soft whimper leaving your lips. Moans and grunts being exchanged like cash for goods at a farmer’s market.
“They’re so beautiful, darlin’,” Tommy took both of your breasts in each of his large calloused hands.
Your escapades were interrupted by a harsh knock at the door.
Rushing to put your clothing back on, you headed to the door as did Tommy. Before being able to grab for the knob, the visitor spoke.
“Hey, I know ya said two days, but I kind of need my phone,” you could hear the smile in his voice.
It was Joel, fuck.
You ran to grab your cardigan to cover your sheer shirt so not to expose your secret. You tried to catch your breath and opened the door.
“You alright?” He asked after seeing the flush on your cheeks and the rapid ascent and fall of your chest.
Tommy was standing closer to the bed, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
The air in the room grew thick, the pit was back and you didn’t know how to navigate it this time.
“I’m fine, just get your stuff and go please.” You sounded defeated but also relaxed. Joel could tell something was off.
As he made his way to his belongings he complimented his brother’s shirt. ”Hey, that looks nice on you, it’s inside out by the way,” the older brother had a smirk on his face. “There’s no fucking way, you dirty fucking bastard.” Joel finished with a stifled angered laugh. His tongue pressing to the inside his top molars, the smirk still ever-present.
You could practically serve the air with a spoon and sprinkles.
“Is this what you needed the two days for, sweet girl?” His eyes grew dark as he stepped closer to you. “Needed to fuck my brother to get the thought of me kissing that girl out of your head?” His voice became deeper, if that was even possible.
“Joel, I’m just-,” before you could finish Joel was in the door and his hands and lips were exploring your body. “Joel.”
“Hush, if you want to make this a competition, brother, we can,” Joel turned to look at his brother when the two of your mouths parted. You could feel the dominance radiating off of him.
“That’s not what this is and you know it.” Tommy was growing frustrated.
“Joel fucking Miller, I am not going to be cuckholding either one of you, now stop!” Shoving him off of you.
He grabbed your arms, rough, he didn’t hurt you. But, you could feel the wet spot turning into a small river. It didn’t help that Tommy was standing there watching the whole thing.
Was this who you’d become? A girl who thought about the small possibility of your best friends fucking you?
Your train of thought derailed when Joel told his brother to come kiss you.
This can’t be fucking happening…
“Joel, you’re fuckin’ sick.” Tommy spat,” I’m not gonna fuckin’ do this shit again, we aren’t in college anymore. Grow the fuck up.” He was furious.
“What does he mean by, 'again,' Joel? This isn’t new for you? Are you fucking joking?” Your heart was racing. Face red and hands turning to mini saunas.
“Honey, wait, I-,” Joel tried to stop you but in your fit of emotion, you walked to the bathroom, locking the door.
What a birthday week. I can’t believe I thought he was different. You’re so fucking stupid.
You sat in the tub and wept, like a fucking baby. The pit was back at the depths of your abdomen. All the things Joel had done for you, with you and around you - played in your head like a tiltawhirl.
It felt like forever, sitting there waiting for some kind of come to Jesus moment to happen. You pulled your cardigan across your chest as you stood to get out of the bathtub. When you got into the room, both of the Millers were sitting on opposite beds, facing the bathroom. Tommy was in the far bed, eyes searing into the back of Joel’s skull.
“Darlin’, I can explain everything if you just give me a chance. Please.” Again with the fucking pleading, it was getting old and you were fed up with his fake puppy dog bullshit.
“No, I’m gonna tell you something and you’re gonna shut the fuck up,” upset couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling you were experiencing.
Joel’s mouth snapped shut while Tommy’s lips curled into a devious smile. He was happy about this?
“I don’t know where you get off, Joel. I thought I loved you yesterday, really thought we could’ve turned this into something worth my time. But, I was sorely mistaken. Don’t speak to me for 48 hours, like I asked you earlier.” There were tears of disgust welling in your ey6es and the tension in the air was even thicker than before.
“Love? You love me?” Joel’s face dropped. Was he fucking serious?
“That’s all you fucking took from that? Is this who you really are, huh? Someone who fucked up some young woman’s life because of your grief? A fucking player, who likes the thought of getting into a battle of the best sexual partner with your brother? You make me sick.” The rage, not only audible but visually apparent to both the brothers as you inch closer to Joel’s face.
“And you!” You point moving toward Tommy. His eyes grow wide.
“You fucking knew the shit he’s pulled and you didn't wanna tell me about it? How could you not tell me about any of this fucked up shit sooner?” You dropped to your knees.
Both of the men leapt off their respective beds to meet you on the floor. Joel behind you, holding your elbows as your hands rose to your face. Tommy in front of you holding the sides of your head to place a long tender kiss on the top of it.
The three of you sat there long enough for you to stop crying and look at them both with puffy eyes.
Tommy spoke first.
“Baby girl, I know this hasn’t been the week you were hoping for, we’re both so sorry for how much shit has happened. I promise we can make it up to you.” Voice so soft but dominant as he looks into your eyes. He places a kiss on your forehead.
You look at Joel, his big beautiful brown eyes looking right back into your sore ones.
“Tommy’s right, pretty baby. You haven’t deserved any of the shit that’s happened. I promise - with everything that I am -” his hand coming up to your face to brush away a strand of fallen hair. “ We will never ever hurt you again.”
Your eyes drop to the floor with his words.
A ding comes from your phone, you take it out of your pocket.
Sarah: Hey, my dad said y’all were at the San Luis? Could Ellie and I come to the pool with y’all?
“You need to answer your daughter before we talk about anything.” Not a trace of fight left in your voice.
“Shit,” Joel takes out his phone and dials Sarah.
When he stands to take the call near the giant window you look at Tommy again.
What the fuck kind of magic did they put in these men’s eyes.
“Kiss me,” you say to the younger brother.
Joel darts his head in your direction and says goodbye to his daughter. He drops to his knees back to his former position.
“Both of you, kiss me.” Tommy gives you a soft peck on the cheek while Joel kisses the top of your head. It wasn’t what you were expecting but, you felt safe.
thank y'all for reading my silly little story! a goofy little reblog, like or comment is always welcomed and appreciated with the highest regard! <3- @papipascaaaal
so, as a little buffer, for myself, i think i'm going to start working on an original piece that i've been wanting to write for quite some time now. thank you all for the support!
Trying to come up with the absolute worst way to describe naturally occurring vaginal lubricant. I’m not a fan of “pussy juice.” I think the worst I’ve got so far is “coochie phlegm.”
Mucosal discharge? Crotch slime? Vagina drippings? I see your coochie phlegm and raise you: coochie snot. Little bit more on the slang-y side, but kitty drool? Is that anything?
Warnings: !18+MDNI! NO outbreak AU, dbf!joel, fem!afab!reader, softdom!joel, use of daddy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up for fuck sake, no use of y/n, big meaty age gap (Joel is 56 Reader is 25), if I missed anything please let me know
This one is for @pedroshotwifey I'm so sorry it took so long lovely!
credit to @saradika for the cute little dividers and to @cafekitsune for the adult warning divider
Summary: Your dad hasn't been the best lately and Joel is here to save the day.
word count: 3.19k
You had walked into the kitchen of your family home and saw your dad reading the newspaper while drinking his morning coffee. Usually when you would walk into any room he’d greet you, this morning was different for some reason and it had been happening more frequently when you stopped to think about it.
“Morning, Dad. What’s going on in our beautiful city today?” Nothing. Absolutely no response until you walked to open the fridge.
“What’d you say, sorry was reading this article about a recall on pancake mix,” you looked into the fridge for a beat and furrowed your eyebrows.
“Was just wondering what you were reading,” after you grabbed the jug of orange juice, you shut the fridge door and turned to face your father. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to go see that new movie with me today.” You sipped the juice straight from its container.
He tilted down the newspaper and looked at you confused and almost disappointed that his child would want to spend some time with her father.
Did he just fucking ignore me, what the hell?
Your heart dropped in your stomach, you put the orange juice back into the fridge and walked out the front door. You didn’t slam it but God, wouldn’t that have been such a nice feeling.
He’d been getting persistently more distant for the past month and you’d had enough of getting shut down and thrown to the side like you weren’t his only kid.
You contemplated going for a walk but decided on sitting at the end of the driveway with your knees to your chest and your head resting on them.
Joel Miller, your middle-aged neighbor pulled in about five minutes after you sat down. You didn’t see him pull in but you could hear the squeal of his engine when he turned the corner.
Shortly after, you heard the door of his truck shut, followed by footsteps to your right. Heavy boots crunch the warm grass as the steps get closer. The sound stops with a scuffing of the boot’s toe.
“Hey, honey bee, you doin’ alright?” That thick southern drawl snapped you out of your pout even further.
You look up from your resting place, shielding your eyes from the sun with your forearm to look at the brawny man above.
“Oh, hey, Joel. I’m good, dad’s just still acting funny, needed to get out of the house but didn’t want to drive while upset.” He huffs at your response.
“Do you wanna come with me inside and talk over some coffee or wine, maybe even a beer?”
Did Joel “Fine Ass” Miller, just invite you into his home for a morning beverage?
“Sure,” your voice solemn as you push yourself up off the concrete.
Joel leads you through the garage into his home, and Lord what a beautiful one it is.
“So, sweet girl, what’s that old man done this time?” He asks as he grabs you a bottle of wine out of the fridge and himself a beer.
“Ignored my invitation to watch a movie, just like last week when I invited him to go book shopping at the little store on Main,” replying as you lean your elbows on the kitchen island and sit in one of Joel’s handcrafted barstools.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. Would you like to sit in the living room and pick a movie? I’ve even got your favorite blanket out from last week.” He has the wine bottle and glass held in one of his massive hands as he walks to the couch sipping on his beer.
So, maybe this has become a regular occurrence and maybe your family’s lifelong neighbor has been consoling you for a little over a month now. It’s all been innocent, he’s just making sure his friend’s kid is doing alright.
“Baby girl? That’s a new one,” you looked at Joel and followed him to the couch.
The older man watched closely as you sat down, he poured you a glass of wine and sat it on the coffee table, “just in case you wanted it, honey.”
“Thank you, Joel.” You leaned forward a bit to reach the freshly poured beverage and then relaxed into the couch after you covered yourself in what was dubbed as your blanket.
“Do you wanna pick the movie now or do you wanna talk more?” He sipped his beer then set it in a cup holder embedded in the couch. You watched as he settled into the couch and stared into his eyes for a moment before snapping back to answer.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Can we watch that one you were telling me about the other day?” For some reason you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him today. It helped that he was handsome, but it was different, he had this sort of angelic glow to him.
“The Neverending Story?” You nodded. “Of course we can, darlin’!” He got up and went to the television stand and sifted through the shelves to find the VHS tape. After putting the tape in the VCR he sat back down and pressed play on the remote.
“Can I ask a weird question?” Before he could answer you asked,”would you have any problem with us cuddling during the movie?” Your face went red and as you awaited his response.
“Uh- yeah, I mean no, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, come over here.” Joel scooted himself to the arm of the couch and put his legs up, spread them out and patted the space between them.
You took the blanket with you as you walked to sit in Joel’s lap. After making yourself comfortable, your attention was back on the movie.
About forty-five minutes into the film you have to reposition a little and notice something putting pressure on your lower back. You brushed it off and kept watching the movie until Joel coughed and had to readjust his seating.
“Sorry, darlin’, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” Your lifelong neighbor had a fucking boner and there was no denying it.
“Joel, don’t get up, I can help you with your problem if that’s what you need. You’ve helped me with my problems, albeit not sexual, but helped nonetheless.” The worst part, you were right, he’d helped you out a lot through your young adulthood and maybe this is how you’d return the favor.
He paused his movement for a second and let out a deep huff of hot air, it cascaded down your neck. You felt the tiny hairs stand on end.
“We can’t do that, honey, you’re far too young and I’ve known you all your life. It’d feel like I was crossing some kind of line.” His eyes were soft when he spoke to you, he didn't speak down to you.
“I’m twenty-five, Joel.” There was a slight annoyance in your voice, but you tried your best to quell your attitude.
“And I’m fifty-six, missy. It ain’t right.” He shook his head and started to get out from underneath you again, this time making a full exit and going to his room upstairs.
He didn’t return for a good five minutes.
You sat up and grabbed your glass, chugging it and then refilled it, by the time Joel was back you’d drank half the bottle.
When your neighbor arrived back to the couch you tried your best to conceal the slight blush on your face. You didn’t want him to notice you were starting to feel intoxicated so early in the day.
Then, to your dismay he picked up the bottle, “good lord, how’d you manage to put half the bottle away that quick, honey?” A small chuckle left his lips as he shook the bottle then set it back down.
When he returned it was with a giant plastic cup practically spilling over with ice water. He handed to you and spoke to you like you’d wish every other sexual interest would’ve. “Drink, now.” You shook your head. “Girl, I said drink the goddamn water or we ain’t cuddling anymore.” That got you to obey, you downed as much as you could to please him.
The older man picked up his beer and chugged it then made his way to the kitchen, when he returned it was with a glass of straight whiskey half filled. He set it down before shoving his broad form behind you. Once again his arms were around you.
You laid your head on his chest after taking a few more mouthfuls of water. Joel’s hand found its way to your hair, soon enough his fingers were combing through your hair. Then you felt a spot of warm pressure on the side of your head.
He kissed me…
Not knowing what to do, you laid there, frozen, listening to the most calming heartbeat.
1…2…3…4
You kept thinking to yourself, soon enough you were calm. Calm enough to turn over on your front and straddle your neighbor. This time there was no protest as you pecked his lips.
The first time you pulled away to assess and then on the second peck, Joel put both his hands on the side of your face. His lips parted to meld with yours in one of the most passionate kisses you’d ever experienced. After what seemed like an eternity, deep rumbles escaped his chest. Your lips were practically numb from the stubble on his face.
“Joel,” you pulled away and looked into his eyes.
Hesitation had grown over you and panic was setting in. Truthfully, the furthest you’d gone with anyone was oral and some very mediocre fifteen second sex with your high school boyfriend. Your knowledge was nowhere near Joel’s and that was making for a hell of a problem alongside the alcohol.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” His voice was soft as he began running his hands through your hair.
After a beat passed you took a deep breath,”I just don’t know what I’m doing, this is new-ish for me.” Before you could continue your rambling of inexperience, Joel’s lips found their way back against yours.
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about that, I’ll be right here with you every step, scouts honor,” his eyes met yours waiting for some type of response. You gave him a nod.
“Words, baby girl, I need to hear you say that you understand before we go any further, understand?” Another beat passed before your response.
“Yes, sir?” It came out as a question, you didn’t know what he wanted you to call him.
Daddy? Sir? Joel?
“Sir, huh? Why that one?” A soft chuckle left his beautiful plump lips.
“Well, I don’t know, do you want me to call you daddy instead?” Your cheeks started to warm.
“Oh, that one’ll work just fine baby doll,” with one swift motion he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist.
“Joel!” You chirped at the quickness of his movements.
“You thought I was gonna fuck you on the couch?” He placed a kiss on your nose and walked with you to his room upstairs.
Once in the giant bedroom, he sat you on the bed and took off his company shirt, exposing the most amazingly toned tanned upper body you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d seen him in the pool, sure, but you’d never looked at him as more than your father’s friend and neighbor.
“Nervous, darlin’?” He smirked at you as he unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans.
“Very.” Your voice was shaky as you took his lead in undressing yourself, everything but your underwear and bra met his bedroom floor.
“Lay back, baby.” Joel wasn’t asking, he was demanding. You could hear the change in his tone, it wasn’t mean or aggressive, but stern and it made your stomach and groin flutter.
As you laid back the broad man made his way to the bed and grazed his fingertips up your legs to the waistband of your underwear. When he pulled them off it was slow and methodical, he watched as they flowed over every curve and goosebump that graced your legs.
“You doin’ okay, honey?” His voice was rough and dark, he wasn’t making eye contact with you, all his attention was being pulled to your core. You were practically trembling as he started to spread your legs open.
“Yes, daddy,” was all you could muster.
“Good girl, now just relax and bend your knees for me, feet flat on the bed and close your eyes, hands above your head and breathe, understood?” You followed his every wish and he rewarded you with wet slow kisses all the way up your thigh to the top of your pulsing mound. His tongue found its home in the top center of your slit. It was so soft and wet, the warm sensation sent shivers up your spine and made you squirm.
“Fuck…” Your voice faint as Joel’s mouth worked its way through the folds of your pussy.
A hum rang through your body as Joel moaned into you. “God, you’re doin’ so well, baby girl, you taste so good.” He returned to his work and added two of his long thick fingers into you pulling an airy deep moan from your lips. The hair on his face only added to the intensity.
“Joel, fuck, please, I can’t take much more, I need you in me, please,” You were begging, more than you’d ever have in your life, fully begging for this man to put his cock in you and make you forget about all your problems.
“Already, baby?” He removed his mouth from you and fingered you harder and faster, relishing in the wet sounds coming from your tight center.
“You need to cum for me, just one time, I know you can do it for me. Cum for daddy, baby.” His voice and the motions of his thumb on your clit, and the fingers he was pumping inside you made the spring in your core tighten and snap faster and harder than you’d ever felt.
You huffed and squeezed your eyes as your hips bucked into his hands. “Fuck, Joel, oh fuck.”
“That’s it, what a good fucking girl you are.” He stood and took his boxers off, throwing them to the floor then returning to you. Joel crawled between your legs and let his cock rest on your core. You made eye contact as he put a hand under your head to lift you into a kiss, his other made its way to the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts from their restraints. You helped by taking it off the rest of the way and throwing the garment near its counterparts on the floor.
Joel reached to his nightstand, “fuck, uhm, I don’t have any-” you cut him off.
“I’m on birth control,” the smirk on his face was more telling than it should’ve been.
“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.” He went in for a sloppy kiss and reached down to grab his cock, rubbing its head between your soaking folds for lubrication. He found your tight entrance and slowly started to guide himself inside you.
His eyes met yours once more, “fuck, baby girl, how long has it been since anyone’s been in this tight pussy?” Joel almost looked like he was in pain from the squeeze of you.
You didn’t respond, you hadn’t yet seen his cock but by the way it was quite literally splitting you in two, he was massive.
“Speak to me, baby.” He was almost all the way in and it was killing you.
“Fuck me, Daddy, fuck my tight little pussy please please please.” Joel groaned as you spoke.
“Oh, she’s a filthy little slut, now huh?” In one movement he slammed his large rod deep into you. He started furiously pumping into you.
Every thrust elicited some of the most enticing moans Joel had ever heard from one of his partners.
“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum, fuck, yes, fuck.” You were a mess underneath him, but he wasn’t anywhere near done with you.
He pulled himself from you which drew a whine out of you. “Flip over, baby girl.”
You did as he said and made sure to arch your back.
Within seconds he was back inside you. “You’re gonna cum as many times as you can and then I’m gonna cum inside this tight pussy.”
“Yes, sir.” His hands found your waist and gripped harshly as he started to fuck you again. He was hitting the perfect spot.
“You know I’ve seen you play with yourself through that window,” he grabbed your hair and pulled to make you look through the curtains of his window. Your bedroom window was in your eyeline.
“Right there, pretty girl, goddamn it feels so nice to finally feel what it’s like to be the one to make you cum. From now on you’re gonna call me every time you touch this little cunt, you hear?” He wasn’t just saying all this to get you there, he wanted to be the one to pull orgasms out of you.
“Yes, daddy,” you moaned over and over again as you came.
“Give me two more just like that, baby girl, let daddy feel this pussy soak his cock.” His thrusts became harder and more rhythmic. Your next orgasm came only seconds after the last.
“That’s it, good fucking girl, give me one more. I’ll countdown from ten and you’re gonna cum on my cock and I’m gonna fill you up, baby.” He slowed just a bit.
“Yes, sir. Fuck me , Joel. Give me that big fucking cock.” He began counting as you spoke.
“One, two, three…” His strokes were increasing in speed as he counted.
Once he reached five, you were a babbling mess, no words came from your mouth until he reached eight.
“Nine, ten. Cum for me, baby girl,” he thrusted a few more times as you came on him.
“Cum inside me, daddy, please!” Once again you found yourself pathetically begging for him.
“I’m cummin’, goddamn this pussy - feels - so - fucking good.” His last few strokes were accompanied with his cock jolting inside you. You could feel the amount of spend filling you.
Joel pulled himself from you and laid next to you on his back, hand on his chest as he caught his breath.
You curled yourself up to him with your head on his bicep. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Joel, this isn’t a one time thing right?” You asked nervously.
“Absolutely not, honey, I’m gonna make sure we start seein’ a whole lot more of each other from now on.” He turned over and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Will I still be able to come over and just talk to you?” You kissed his chest and prayed he’d say yes.
“I will always be here for you to talk, baby.” He graced your forehead with another kiss before the both of you drifted off to sleep.
Very strange when you can see that someone liked then unliked your post 😕 like did I do something wrong, did I offend you? What can I do to make this right?
SUMMARY: Our main character gets further involved with her other love interest. Javier gets jealous.
WORD COUNT: ~9k
RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.
CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mentions of religion, i'll say it once and i'll say it again: slow burn, officer!Javi P because i think that's like really hot, Jealous!Javi too, some lore is explained, love triangle, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.
DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.
A/N: hiiiii here's this week's chapter! i just love love LOVE this world and these characters, i rlly hope you all feel the same (: if u see any typos... uhhh... pretend u didn't :p anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3
♰ read on ao3. ♰
♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰
True to her word, Paloma fulfills her promise and chauffeurs Sloane home the following afternoon. Their journey is smooth sailing, filled with belting out songs and animated chatter, so much so it seems as though they reach their destination in the blink of an eye.
Nestled far into the horizon, the house resides amidst a vast expanse of parched grassland. Its isolation strikes her immediately, as if it's purposefully distanced from any signs of civilization. The last notable landmark has faded into the rearview mirror, easily twenty minutes behind them.
“ It’s so far from everythin’, how did August know this woman again? ” As they draw nearer, she casts her gaze upon the home, curiosity guiding her observations.
Initially, the house appears unassuming, boasting a generous Southern size. Yet as her eyes trace its contours, the subtle hints of antiquity emerge, revealing its longstanding presence in the landscape. The intricate detailing, weathered by time, whispering tales of decades past. A testament to its timeless appearance.
Amidst her admiration, a wave of relief washes over her; it’s a stark improvement from the dreary confines of the motel where her friend was staying at.
“ He looked after her way back when she lived in Fayette. ” Slo answers plainly, releasing her seatbelt as the car halts, its engine settling into a quiet then nonexistent hum. With a fluid motion, she swings the door ajar and gracefully steps out onto the gravel, stretching her limbs.
Paloma mirrors Slo's action, sliding on her sunglasses as the sun casts its unyielding rays upon them. The sky stretches endlessly, devoid of any clouds to offer respite. Already, the heat sears against her skin causing beads of sweat to form, clinging to her like a damp embrace.
Immersed in her surroundings, she takes in the scenery when August's familiar voice draws near. Her attention shifts and a radiant smile illuminates her face as he closes the distance and envelops her in a heartfelt embrace.
“ Looks like you hit the jackpot. ” She tells him once they pull away, banking on her sunglasses to conceal her admiring gaze as it traces the intricate tattoos adorning his bare arms. His thin undershirt offers a canvas for her to wander, inviting her eyes to linger on the myriad designs. A glimmer of gold catches her attention—a simple chain draping from his neck, the pendant dangling with a symbol unfamiliar to her.
“ I keep thinkin’ they made a mistake. M’waitin’ for the other shoe to drop. ” He remarks, his head subtly shaking as his blond hair catches the sunlight, casting a radiant glow around him.
“ Just enjoy it while it lasts then, ” She teases, her hands enfolding his arm as he guides her towards the house. “ But seriously, this is a blessin’. Now y’all can all be together again. ” He’s told her about the struggles his group has faced. Constantly displaced and unable to be together for months.
Their unconventional religious beliefs had made them outcasts in many narrow-minded towns, branded as some sort of demonic cult by most. It’s quite ridiculous.
“ M’gonna go take a shower. You good? ” Sloane asks Paloma once they’re inside, a hint of a smirk on her face at her friend’s growing closeness with August.
“ I’m fine and in very capable hands. ” She jests, playfully nudging him.
With a gracious sweep of his hand, August leads her on the grand tour, showing her all around the property. The outward appearance of this home is deceiving, as its interior dimensions far exceed expectations. It’s fully furnished, with the majority of bedrooms already claimed by members of August's collective.
She still doesn’t know much about them, only acquainted with the sparse details he's disclosed to her.
Seeking purpose, these wandering spirits have weathered the scrutiny of their communities for deviating from societal norms. Many among them are runaways or troubled youth, adrift with nowhere else to turn.
August possessed a unique talent for uniting fragmented souls. He wielded his philosophies and unconventional perspectives like a beacon, illuminating pathways to security and a profound sense of belonging for those who agreed to walk alongside him.
Not quite family, but a bond akin to it—a group of individuals capable of rescuing one another.
“ Were you two related? ” She inquires with a curious tilt of her head as they descend the large staircase, her hand still encircling his bicep.
“ Nah. I used to work at the grocery store back home and she would come in all the time needin’ a lotta help. After a few visits, she asked if I wanted a side gig. Basically just mowin’ her lawn, fixin’ things around her house and what not. I agreed and did that for a few years till she moved away. Hadn’t heard from from her till recently when I was passin’ through Fayette. Her lawyer tracked me down and told me she left all this,” Gestures to everything around them, “ To me. With a small fortune, too. Turns out she had no other family so she wrote me into her will shortly after I started workin’ for her. ”
Paloma absorbs all this information, engrossed entirely. “ That’s quite the story. Crazy how an act of kindness years ago ended up in all this. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. ” She remarks as they step into the spacious central area of the house, offering a panoramic view of both the front and back yards.
“ What goes around comes around, yeah? ” A beguiling smile plays across his face as he leads her into the backyard, and her eyes widen in astonishment.
The landscape is strikingly manicured, adorned with tastefully arranged outdoor furniture and a meticulously crafted stone fountain serving as its centerpiece. Not far off lies a sprawling garden, brimming with an array of crops and vegetables. Adjacent to it stands a quaint barn, completing the picturesque scene.
“ This is beautiful. Add a few farm animals and this place could be self-sustaining. ” She understands the immense effort required to maintain a place like this, but judging by its current state, it seems to have been well cared for. Now that they're here, she's confident that August harbors ambitious aspirations to elevate this space into something remarkable.
“ We got some pigs, a cow and a few chickens in the barn. ” He reveals to her, as if reading her mind, and she’s itching to get a look. She wishes she and her father had the time and resources to have farm animals of their own. Hell they have the land for it.
Just then, a young girl, her demeanor hesitant, approaches August and tells him he’s needed inside.
Paloma's gaze holds onto her, her appearance suggesting late adolescence. A slight ache grips her heart as she recalls the weighty traumas that drew these individuals together. The realization that someone so youthful has endured immense suffering tugs at Paloma's sentimentality.
“ Be right back. Feel free to look around. ” She nods as he separates from her, following the soft spoken girl inside the house.
Driven by curiosity, Paloma wanders about, stooping down to scrutinize the garden's burgeoning offerings. The sight of the fresh produce ignites a twinge of envy within her. Vegetables have never been her forte, explaining why her home garden mainly boasts an array of flowers.
Suddenly, a flicker of motion catches her attention nearby. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes narrow in curiosity before widening with delight as she discovers a playful kitten leisurely exploring its surroundings.
A large, goofy smile tugs at her lips as she attempts to scoop the animal into her arms to no avail. It scurries away before she can even reach for it.
“ C’mere little kitty… ” Her voice trails after it as she chases it around, weaving through the area until it darts towards the cellar of the house. Paloma nearly grasps it, but the kitten slips away into the thicket of bushes. Just as she resigns herself to letting it go, a faint voice drifts from behind the weighty cellar doors.
“ Hello? Is someone there? Please help me… ”
Her brows crease in confusion, struggling to decipher the person's muffled words. She leans in closer, on the verge of speaking, when the touch on her forearm interrupts her impending words.
A sound of surprise pushes past Paloma's lips as she swiftly turns her head, her eyes locking onto August. His brows knit together in a puzzled frown as he regards her, then his gaze flicks toward the cellar.
“ Whatcha doin’, sweetheart? ” He asks, loosening his grip on her arm and she pulls it to her side, straightening her posture.
“ I thought I heard, uh, someone askin’ for help. ” She stammers, gesturing towards the basement, a sudden unease settling at the base of her spine.
He hums in acknowledgement, eyes not leaving hers. “ S’probably someone workin’ on the busted pipe this place came with. Gabriel! ” He calls for his friend, who appears seemingly out of nowhere. “ Go see if they need anythin’. Paloma heard someone callin’ for help. ”
The two men share a silent exchange, their eyes conveying a conversation of their own. Then, with a nod from Gabe, he departs as swiftly as he arrived.
“ There’s somethin’ special I wanna show you. ” August starts to speak, drawing her focus away from the imposing cellar doors and extending his hand toward her.
She nods in agreement, no longer feeling uneased, intertwining their fingers as he guides her back toward the backyard, but this time leading her to a sprawling greenhouse.
A soft gasp escapes her as the structure comes into view, its presence previously unnoticed. He chuckles softly at her surprised reaction, enjoying her astonishment.
“ You like? ” He queries as they step inside, and her response is an eager nod, her gaze sweeping across the diverse assortment of plants and flowers with fascination.
Paloma finds herself unable to contain her excitement, delving into a torrent of facts and anecdotes about his greenery. It's only when she's passionately discussing azaleas and the challenges she’s facing nurturing the ones she planted earlier in the season that she abruptly pauses, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she realizes she's been carried away, “ Sorry, I didn’t mean t’get all rambly…. ”
“ Don’t apologize little dove. You look so cute like this. ” As his fingertips delicately tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she instinctively leans into his tender touch. The endearment he uses makes her heart flutter, her thoughts briefly flickering to Javi as she nervously nibbles on the inside of her cheek.
Not now, Paloma.
“ Let me take you out one night baby. ” He suddenly says and her eyes widen in surprise.
“ You want to go out with me? ” She asks, for some reason not believing him.
“ Of course. Thought I had made it obvious with the way I’ve been throwin’ myself at you. ”
Her bottom lip finds itself caught between her teeth, not oblivious to the way he has been coming on to her. Since she had someone else on her mind, she hadn’t really reciprocated any of his advances.
But after the kiss that never happened and the silence that followed, she figures this is exactly what she needs to get over the sting of Javier’s wordless rejection.
“ I would love to but everyone in town talks too much and if my dad got word that I was out on a date… ”
An undertone of irritation seeps into her words, noticeable even to him, and something flickers in his eyes as he catches onto it.
“ Don’t worry about that, okay? I’ll handle it. You just worry about gettin’ all pretty for me, which won’t take much considerin’ how perfect you are. ”
A flutter of warmth dances in her stomach at his sweet words.
“ Okay… then yes, I’d love to go out with you. ”
A handsome expression takes over his countenance, “ Perfect. Gotta get some stuff straightened out around here but I’ll call you. Hope I can talk to you before then, though? ”
“ Slo has my number… if you call and daddy answers just hang up and try again later. Don’t want him goin’ on one of his little tangents. ”
A smirk dances on August's lips, his mischievous urge to test the limits and provoke the sheriff evident. Yet, despite his inclination, he restrains himself, recognizing the strides he's making with her and unwilling to jeopardize the progress.
“ Yes ma’am, anythin’ else I need t’be made aware of? I like my manhood and would like to keep it attached to my person. ” He jokes about being castrated by her father and she snorts, rolling her eyes.
“ S’all. Don’t take too long ‘straightening things out’. If not I might lose interest. ”
His eyes darken at her words despite her playful tone, “ You won’t. ” August says with a conviction that has her rubbing her thighs together.
“ Then it’s a date. ” She nods, and they exchange an amorous stare, “ I should probably head back. Got some chores I gotta get done but I appreciate you showin’ me around. This is a beautiful place, you’ve really been blessed, August. It’s only up from here. ”
“ Any time. M’glad you came by today... Oh, and Paloma? ” He begins and she looks at him puzzledly.
“ Yeah? ”
“ I think it’s best if we keep this visit a secret between us. We’ve finally got some peace and quiet to be ourselves without being ostracized by the community and we’d like to keep it that way. Many of us ain’t ever had a place to call home so losing this… feeling uncomfortable here would negate all we’ve been working towards. ”
She nods, fully understanding how big of a deal this is to all of them and she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin their solace.
“ Of course. I won’t tell a soul. The only person I’d consider tellin’ already lives here. ” She giggles and his lip quirks up into a small smile.
He leads her back to her car, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, sending a wave of warmth through her. They bid farewell, and as August leans in to place a tender kiss on her cheek, she can't help but become flustered in response, gazing up at him with a hint of playful affection.
“ Don’t forget to call. ” She tells him, sliding into the passenger seat.
He closes the door, leaning down to talk to her through the rolled down window, “ I won’t. Just make sure you’re around to answer. ” He winks at her, slapping his palm against the top of her car. “ Drive safe, little dove. ”
Departing from the house, she carries a blend of excitement and nervousness. It'll be her first genuine date in years, igniting both giddiness and apprehension within her. Throughout the entire ride home, her mind swirls with fantasies about his plans for the evening and the possible outcomes of their time together. Javier pushed to the back of her mind entirely.
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When she gets home, Paloma is determined to make the most of the remainder of her day. However, her plans are momentarily halted as she notices a vividly colored piece of paper taped to the front door.
POWER OUTAGE IN IMMEDIATE AREA.
RESTORATION APPROX. 9PM.
Well shit, that's still hours away, and Paloma refuses to suffer through this heat at home with no air conditioning. So, she gathers all the laundry from the house and loads it into her car, making sure to grab her CD player, a book and her journal to stave off boredom. She’ll hang out at the laundromat until tonight, maybe even stop by to visit her father at the station in order to kill time.
The mere thought of encountering Javier sends a whirlwind of thoughts swirling through her mind, momentarily disrupting her focus. Despite the anticipation of potential awkwardness, Paloma resolves to maintain her composure. She makes a silent vow to herself to hold an air of nonchalance, determined to act as if nothing had transpired between them and she wasn't the least bit affected by their days of silence.
She pulls into the small parking lot of the laundromat, doing her best to haul everything inside in one trip. She struggles at first, her progress hindered by a persistent strand of hair that’s fallen loose from her ponytail. Despite her efforts to brush it aside, the unruly strand stubbornly resettles in front of her face each time. Frustration mounts, prompting a colorful stream of curses to escape her lips.
Using her ass to nudge the door open, she stumbles inside, careful not to topple over entirely and make a fool out of herself.
Once she’s in the small building, a refreshing wave of cool air washes over her, causing goosebumps to form on her skin despite the perspiration from the scorching weather outside.
Turning around, she doesn't anticipate encountering anyone and nearly loses her grip on everything she's carrying when she locks eyes with a familiar pair of deep, brown eyes staring back at her.
Javier. Of-fucking-course.
Paloma maintains her silence, averting her gaze swiftly. She busies herself with locating a spot on the opposite side from where he stands, this time managing to move her belongings without difficulty.
The gentle hum of the washing machines and dryers in operation fills the space, accompanied by the soft murmur of a soap opera emanating from the small, boxy television perched high in the corner.
Despite the distractions, a palpable tension lingers in the air, accentuated by the weight of his gaze boring into her back as she starts loading one of the machines.
" It's rude to stare, y'know, " She finally speaks up, unable to resist addressing his intense scrutiny. Turning to face him after finishing her task, she meets his gaze head-on.
Javier knew better than to openly gawk at her the moment she entered, but her unexpected presence caught him off guard. Their lack of interaction since that night at the fair only added to the uneasy atmosphere.
Immersing himself in his work, Javier threw himself into overhauling the department. With Romeo preoccupied by the missing persons case and other matters, Javier took it upon himself to revamp everything. Implementing a new filing system, acquiring better equipment, and updating certain procedures are just a few tasks amongst the many that became his primary focus. It was a deliberate effort to keep from pursuing her, however he found himself thoroughly enjoying the reorganization because he is good at it.
He had convinced himself that distancing from Paloma was the wisest choice. Initially, the flirtation had been manageable, but as their connection deepened and the lines of intimacy blurred, it became overwhelming.
While it was the rational decision, it wasn't without its challenges. Despite having plenty to occupy his mind, there remained a palpable void in the absence of her presence. Javier found himself yearning for their casual conversations and lighthearted banter, missing everything about their relationship beyond its romantic aspect.
Amidst his conflicted emotions, Javier grapples with a sense of guilt for harboring feelings towards the daughter of a man he now considers a friend. He witnesses firsthand the toll that the unsolved cases have taken on the sheriff, observing his friend's weariness and frustration. Javier dreads the possible fallout if his involvement with Paloma were ever to come to light; it would undoubtedly wreak havoc.
Yet as he stands there, captivated by the sight of her in her denim shorts and tied-up blouse, he finds himself unable to look away. Despite the weight of his conscience, he can't help but admire her beauty.
“ You’re right. Sorry querida. ”
She feels a flutter in her chest as he speaks to her, frustrated that she still reacts like a smitten teenager.
“ I’m surprised you even remember me. Figured we were strangers again. ” Her words drip with sarcasm, a tinge of bitterness creeping in. That little vow she’d made to herself to keep things nonchalant now swiftly tossed out the window.
“ I've been tied up at the station. ” He begins to explain, which isn’t a lie but also not the entire truth.
Paloma's soft hum fills the air as her eyes trace the contours of his figure, from the crown of his head to the tips of his boots, and a sigh as delicate as a whisper escapes her. The sight of him clad in the effortless ensemble of a plain t-shirt and denim jeans ignites a warmth within her, stirring a faint pulse between her legs.
How ridiculous it is for her to have vowed to keep her distance, agreeing to a date with another man just hours before; only to find herself standing here, unable to resist Javier's magnetic pull and being drawn back to him by the sheer force of his irresistible attractiveness.
“ So you’re not avoidin’ me ‘cause we almost kissed? ” Subtly be damned, she allows her words to linger, floating like weightless clouds in the space that separates them. Across the compact room, they share a gaze, locked in a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation where unspoken sentiments hover like ethereal whispers.
She can practically hear Sloane fussing at her, their last conversation about him still fresh on her mind.
It’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs–– a long trail of broken hearts follow that man.
A subtle twitch dances along his jawline as she acknowledges the fleeting moment, “ S’that what all this is about, hermosa? You think I’m ignoring you because we almost kissed? ” Despite that being the case, he maintains a composed facade, a humorless chuckle escaping him as he shakes his head. “ If you missed me, you can just say that. ” He teases, testing the waters in attempts to lighten the mood.
Paloma emits a soft snort, a reflex to mask the warmth flooding her cheeks as she averts her gaze, ensuring he doesn't catch sight of the gentle blush coloring her features.“ As if. Just kinda rude to be a part of a friend’s big moment then ice ‘em out after a heat of the moment mishap. ”
His tongue glides over his teeth, a simple gesture as his gaze remains fixed on hers, unwavering. “ I wasn’t icin’ you out, princesa. ” Javier states smoothly, his words flowing effortlessly despite it still being a lie, “ I've genuinely been busy as hell. Redoin’ the infrastructure of the department, helping your pops out with the cases. Shitty timing but I’m not dodging you on purpose. ”
Paloma contemplates his words, her gaze fixed on his features, searching for any telltale signs of deception. A growing sense of embarrassment floods over her as she reflects on how wrongly she had interpreted his silence. It dawns on her that Javier had merely been occupied with his responsibilities—it was his job, after all. Considering her father's recent transition to overnight shifts, she can envision how deeply absorbed Javier must be in the process of reevaluating everything.
She conceals her embarrassment. Though inwardly, she chastises herself for allowing her emotions to cloud her judgment, berating her heart for leading the way instead of her (sometimes not so) rational mind.
“ So things aren’t weird between us? ”
“ Not in the slightest. ”
“ Water under the bridge? ”
“ Water under the bridge. ”
A smile curves Paloma's lips as she pushes herself away from the running washing machine, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her denim shorts. She saunters over to him, each step purposeful, exuding a quiet yet growing confidence.
“ Okay. I guess I mighta jumped the gun a bit… ” She admits and he flashes her a knowing smile.
“ Just a little. ”
It's unexpectedly simple for them to lie to themselves and each other about the nature of their connection. Whatever the manner it takes to get them to this fragile sense of peace; he’ll take
Finally, Javier can free himself from dwelling on the petty dysfunction between them, self-conscious about his recognition of how much he’s missed having her around.
It was only a week of silence. Can they be any more pathetic?
As she approaches him, however, Javier can’t help but let those pesky explicit thoughts infiltrate his mind. How he’d love to pull her flush against him, cover her mouth with his and kiss her until they’re both breathless. Grab a handful of her plump ass and perch her on top of one of these machines, feeling her fingers run through his hair as his dug into her hips.
He’d be content with just that, feeling her inviting lips, tasting her lip gloss and nipping at the soft skin until the flesh is swollen due to the passionate exchange.
It’s thoughts like these that make it hard for him to conceal his feelings. Why he initially sought to create space between them, only to find that maintaining distance was more challenging than simply being in her presence.
“ Y’know, I actually missed makin’ fun of you. ”
“ Is that all I am to you? Someone to poke fun at solely for your entertainment? ”
“ Uh, yeah. I thought that was a mutual understandin’? ” She snickers and the tension dissolves entirely as they fall back into their usual limbo.
Javier reassures himself that he can handle this situation with normalcy as he engages in conversation with Paloma while they attend to their laundry. He convinces himself that he can exercise self-restraint and maintain a romantic distance while remaining close to her in a platonic sense. Recognizing their mutual maturity, he sees no reason to let something as trivial as a crush disrupt the budding friendship they both clearly cherish.
He can totally just be friends with a captivating and irresistible woman like her. He can shed his reputation as a womanizer. Think with something other than his dick for once.
“ Do you dance, cowboy? ” She inquires, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she presses play on the CD player, flooding the room with the twang of a country song.
“ Yeah, why? ” He responds, his gaze fixed on her as she gracefully maneuvers in the confined, open area at the rear of the shop.
“ ‘Cause they’re havin’ a little line dance event on Saturday before I play. Figured you’d swing by and join in on the fun. ” She explains, her movements syncing with the rhythm of the song as she executes a simple two-step before spinning. Javier finds himself unknowingly grinning as his thumb brushes against the corner of his lip after gliding over his mustache.
“ I dance but not line dancing. S’not my thing. ” He admits, though he'll make an exception, just to watch her have fun.
“ Well it can be your thing for one night. Get that stick outta your ass, viejo. ” She giggles softly, her feet effortlessly finding the beat as she kicks them out in perfect rhythm. With a fluid motion, she sways her hips, his attention drawn to the exposed skin of her midriff before looking back up at her.
“ You gotta teach me then, ‘cause I don’t know a single fucking one of those dances. ” This has her halting her movements entirely, extending her arms outward and motioning for him to join her.
He approaches her with deliberate steps, and she guides him to stand exactly where she desires, her touch on his bicep igniting volts of energy to flash through him.
“ It’s very easy. I’ll make sure to request one of the beginner songs just for you. They usually reserve those for the kiddos. ” She jests, licking her lips.
Javier chuckles, releasing a breath through his nose and shaking his head in amusement.
She takes the lead, gently leading him through each step of the country dance, her giggles tinkling like music when he stumbles. Their occasional collisions only deepen their shared laughter, weaving a tender bond between them with each clumsy misstep.
Her presence has a revitalizing effect on Javier, coaxing forth a lighter, more carefree aspect of his personality that had become obscured during his years in Colombia. Once cynical and self-centered, he had morphed into a man driven by ambition, his reputation tainted by arrogance and a propensity for hedonism. He was known as a whore and a volatile agent, his temper often preceding him like a dark cloud.
Despite his notorious reputation, he made unparalleled strides, surpassing all others in his field. Though he grew increasingly daring toward the end, it was the sacrifice of his character and morals that enabled the DEA to take out Escobar and propel their efforts towards dismantling the Cali cartel.
With the turmoil behind him, Javier stands at a crossroads, presented with the opportunity to reconstruct himself anew. He's determined to chart a new course for his future, to discern how he desires to navigate the remainder of his life. Aspiring to become the man he knows he is capable of being.
It’s going to take a lot of fucking work, requiring him to confront the discomfort of self-reflection head-on. Yet, he realizes that the initial stride involves acknowledging the imperative need for change. Without it, he risks being ensnared in a future filled with cynicism and dread.
Inadvertently, Paloma aids him in this rediscovery journey of his; finding and polishing all the good aspects of his character, valiantly putting them on display.
She evokes feelings of joy and normalcy within him, a stark contrast to his usual reserved nature. It’s why he finds it challenging to suppress his feelings for her, why his heart and mind become entwined in a beautiful chaos whenever she crosses his path.
–––––––––––––––––––
“ Peña! Over here! ” She exclaims the moment she spots him, beckoning him eagerly from her position by the pool table
In the midst of the crowd, Paloma effortlessly commands attention. Her hair is elegantly tousled into a stylish updo with wisps of hair gracefully framing her face, her oversized hoop earrings glisten in the soft glow of the bar lights. Adorned in a snug denim jumpsuit, it contours to her every curve, accentuating her figure. As he draws nearer, he finds his gaze irresistibly drawn to her captivating silhouette, particularly to the gentle curve of her ass.
His eyes quickly shift as he notices her father poised over the velvet-covered table, cue in hand, striking the white ball amidst a chaotic scattering of others.
Fortunately, he hadn't caught Javier openly eye-fucking his daughter. That would have undoubtedly led to an uncomfortable conversation.
“ Wasn’t aware you’d be here, Romeo. ” Javi says as the two men greet each other in a friendly handshake.
“ First weekend off in ages and this one convinced me I needed to get out and relieve some stress. ”
Paloma leans over, her concentration evident as she assesses her next move, closing one eye to refine her aim. With a confident swing, she propels the cue ball forward, skillfully sinking two of her own colored balls into separate pockets. She celebrates her achievement with cheerful exuberance.
“ Though ain’t no stress bein’ relieved with the way she’s whoopin’ my ass. ” The older man grunts.
“ You literally taught me how to play. ” She retorts with a playful roll of her eyes, chalking her pool stick.
“ Maybe he’ll have better luck at it then me. M’goin’ to get somethin’ drink. Y’all want anythin’? ” He asks, handing the cue stick over to Javier.
Paloma orders her usual mocktail and Javier orders a plain beer, deviating from his typical whiskey neat.
He casually removes his leather jacket, revealing a red button-up shirt with the top buttons left undone, a habitual style choice. She quickly averts her gaze, preempting any chance of him catching her admiring stare and sporting that smug grin on his devilishly attractive face.
“ Don’t get your hopes up, I’ll probably beat you at it too. ” She rounds the table, nearing him as he takes his turn, just barely missing the corner pocket.
He blames her close proximity.
“ Oh, so close. ” She teases, patronizingly nudging him aside to take her position. As she leans forward, she brushes against him, and he takes a lengthy step back before his hand instinctively comes down to grab at her waist.
Paloma purposefully arches her back as she’s bent over the table, feeling his gaze on her. It’s fun riling men up because it’s so easy–– as if she hadn’t just been on the verge of drooling when he shrugged his jacket off.
Another success as her balls fall into the pockets, she flashes him a victorious grin over her shoulder.
“ Told you. ” She repeats his words back to him, remembering how smug he’d gotten after knocking down all the bottles with the baseball.
“ You’re playin’ a dangerous game here princesa. ” They gravitate closer, as if entering a trance that keeps them from remembering that this is what they’re both trying to avoid.
“ Am I? ” She challenges, gazing up at him with a playful glint in her eyes, framed by her thick lashes.
Romeo reappears with perfect timing, distributing drinks as they settle into the rhythm of their evening. The first part of their night unfolds amidst friendly competition, with Paloma emerging victorious in nearly every game against the two men. However, there's a solitary exception when she graciously allows them a victory. A mercy win of sorts
By this point, the bar begins to buzz with activity. When the familiar strains of country music fill the air, Paloma's face lights up with a wide smile as she beckons Javier to join her with an inviting gesture.
“ Alright now, cowboy, hope you’ve been practicin’ those moves I showed ya. ” He exchanges a look with the sheriff, an amused expression on his face.
“ She’s roped you into it, huh? Feels good to no longer be her only victim, ” The sheriff jokes which prompts her to roll her eyes and for Javier to genuinely laugh.
“ Both of you are no fun, but I reckon this one here has no choice but to join me. ”
He allows her to pull him towards the open area of the dance floor, a crowd gathering around them but he’s only focused on her.
They synchronize their movements, the steps simple enough for him to have retained in the days that followed her little lesson at the laundromat. He acknowledges internally the genuine effort he's putting into dancing with her, despite his initial reluctance.
The radiant smile on her face makes every effort worthwhile.
Across the bar, Sloane observes the affectionate scene with interest, prompting her to excuse herself momentarily to make a phone call.
When the song ends, Paloma turns to him. “ See? That wasn’t so bad. You did really good! ”
“ Well, I did have a great dance instructor. ” He quips, and she suppresses a grin by biting her lip. She's probably beaming like the damn Cheshire Cat right now.
Upon rejoining Romeo, he's teasing Javier about his dancing.
“ Oh daddy, don’t be such a bully. ” Though her attention is diverted by the fresh tray of loaded fries resting on the edge of their pool table, and she takes a forkful; practically scarfing them down.
“ Slow down, they’re not goin’ anywhere. ” Her father comments as she devours the entirety of the appetizer.
“ I haven’t eaten all day and loaded fries are the best thing to ever be invented. ”
“ Just like fried oreos? ” Javier can't resist the opportunity to tease her, shooting her a playful glance over the brim of his beer glass as he takes a sip.
She shoots him a sharp look, “ Don’t. ” Though she smiles softly, part of her wishing she could relive the entirety of that night. Sans the ferris wheel ride.
Shortly after finishing, Paloma heads off to prepare for her gig.
“ Been meanin’ to ask… ” The older man begins as they make their way to the usual table they sit at, “ How was the trip to Dallas? You got back damn near the next mornin’. ”
Javier tenses briefly but recovers, reaching for his trusty pack of cigarettes so he can puff on one while he does his best to recount that night without incriminating himself.
“ It was great. She had a lotta fun… would have been back earlier but she insisted on staying to enjoy the fair. She can be very persistent. ” He lights the stick, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out through his nose.
“ Tell me about it. M’just glad she enjoyed herself. She deserves it, my sweet girl. ” The adoration on his eyes is clear as day, that guilt Javi feels for pining after his daughter intensifies in the moment but it’s quickly dispersed as Paloma joins the stage.
The night unfolds in its usual manner, with her infectious energy and unmatched talent captivating the audience. Amidst a break between songs, she takes a sip of water, her gaze drifting across the crowd until it lands on August. A smile tugs at her lips as she realizes that he's never seen her perform before. With her heart racing at the thought, she caps her water bottle and steps up to the microphone, clearing her throat in preparation.
“ This next song has become one of my favorites after bein’ introduced to it by a very special friend. ” Her eyes meet August’s and they twinkle underneath the stage lights. He raises his hand in a subtle wave as they acknowledge one another. “ This is Creep by Radiohead. ”
♫
The song commences, and as expected, she delivers it perfectly. Javier becomes utterly entranced by her, mesmerized by the power of her voice. He's so absorbed in her presence that he barely notices when the sheriff and some of his friends step outside, leaving him alone at the table with a fresh cigarette nestled between his lips.
Whatever makes you happy.
Whatever you want.
You’re so very special.
I wish I was special.
In the midst of the crowd, a man emerges, clutching a vibrant bouquet of flowers that he carefully places on the stage near Paloma. Their eyes meet, and a surge of butterflies fills Paloma's stomach as she realizes he's brought her azaleas, recalling her disappointment since her own hadn't bloomed properly.
A trace of her excitement seeps into her singing, a gentle giggle interwoven with the lyrics as August winks at her before departing.
Javier finds himself frowning as he observes the exchange, a dangerous wave of jealousy sweeping over him. It's only when the man begins to depart that Javier recognizes him.
Augustus fucking Dixon.
–––––––––––––––––––
For the remainder of the night and well into the following morning, Javier's mind is consumed by that interaction. He replays it over and over again – Paloma's mention of August as a "special friend," the bouquet of flowers he had left for her.
The memory of her smile, her laughter directed at him, and the song she sang, seemingly just for him, echoes relentlessly in his thoughts.
Javier can't shake the pinched feeling in his chest. He berates himself for his irrational jealousy. After all, he has no claim over Paloma in any way, shape, or form. She's a young, beautiful, and talented woman, free to be with anyone she damn pleases.
But to get involved with August? Javier can't help but feel a surge of frustration. He's pored over the guy’s file, seen the litany of petty crimes and the years he's spent behind bars as a result. In Javier's eyes, Paloma deserves better – so much better. Someone who will treat her with the respect and admiration she deserves.
It's unfair of him to react this way, he knows. Yet, try as he might to quell the rising tide of envy, he finds himself struggling against the tumultuous waves of the emotion.
Paloma needs to be adored like the shining star she is, to be with someone who'll kiss the ground she walks on and and treat her like fucking royalty.
What she doesn’t need is to be entangled with a petty criminal adorned in tattoos, sporting a questionable haircut, and roaring around on a motorcycle.
What–– was he going to be the one to treat her as well as she deserves? The man with a jaded past and inability to commit? Yeah, right. He’s delusional for even letting that thought cross his mind.
Javier lets out a soft scoff, exhaling a stream of smoke through the cracked window of his cruiser. He sits parked in front of the church building where mass is currently being held.
He finds himself here after finding out that Gabriel Torres is employed as a groundskeeper for the property. It gives reason as to why he was around the day of Nina Thorton’s funeral, but doesn't quite explain why he paused to stare at her picture in deep thought before leaving.
A nagging sense of intrigue gnaws at Javier as he considers the situation. There's an underlying connection here, he senses it, yet he struggles to pinpoint exactly what it might be. Nina and Gabriel come from different towns, and Gabriel's nomadic lifestyle suggests he's been traversing the state for a while. From what Javi has gleaned about the deceased girl, Nina wasn't one to associate with the ‘wrong crowd’. Still, he acknowledges the disparity between stating she wasn't that type and the possibility that appearances can be deceiving.
Driven by his spark of jealousy, Javier intends to delve deeper into the group that includes Gabriel, August, and Sloane. Returning to his place last night, he poured over their files and any other pertinent information he could find at that moment.
With sparse details at his disposal, he relies on the hearsay from the locals and a single notable arrest involving the trio. In this incident, they were apprehended for setting a cross ablaze in the heart of the woods. The resulting fire grew out of control, warranting all three of them to serve two years in jail.
Driven by a fierce determination, Javier resolves to unearth more information, to transform the whispers and rumors into concrete knowledge. He wants to unravel the enigma of August, to understand why someone as captivating as Paloma would choose to align herself with someone like him.
Javier remains steadfast in his pursuit, refusing to relent until he can definitively eliminate this group from his (almost nonexistent) roster of suspects. He won’t dismiss them entirely until he's thoroughly convinced of their innocence. Moreover, he harbors no intention of divulging his personal investigation to the sheriff. After all, he had dismissed them months ago without a second thought, and Javier sees no reason to involve him now.
Unless he finds something of use, that is.
He gets out of his cruiser in his full sheriff deputy getup, snubbing out the finished cigarette with the bottom of his boot. Javier readjusts the gun that’s tucked against his lower back, plucking out a piece of spearmint gum to rid him of the nicotine taste that lingers in his mouth.
He rounds the building until he’s at the graveyard nestled on the grounds, approaching the younger male who is in the midst of digging a hole into the ground.
“ Gabriel Torres? ” Javier announces himself, lazily chewing on his gum as the guy turns to face him with a skeptical look on his face.
No words are exchanged, but Javi catches the subtle nod of acknowledgment directed his way.
“ Javier Peña with Seminary’s Sheriff’s Department. Got a second to answer some questions. ” He states, his gaze focused intently on the man's face, searching for any subtle clues in his expression. After a beat of silence, he continues, “ You’re not in any kind of trouble or anythin’. I’m just curious about the things I’ve been hearin’ about this group you’re part of. ” Another analytical look follows, his amber-tinted shades not obscuring the intent behind his gaze.
Gabe drives the sharp end of the shovel deep into the soft earth, using it as a support as he leans against it. His gaze shifts to the officer before him, his expression thoughtful as he weighs the decision of whether speaking to him is wise or not.
“ What is it? ”
Javier’s hands fall to his waist, resting atop of his utility belt that has all his equipment on it.
“ You’re not really sacrificin’ goats and eating newborns, right? ” He chuckles dryly. As absurd as it may sound, it was verbatim to what a group of elderly woman had told him not long ago. Obviously, Javier treated it with a healthy dose of skepticism, but he realizes the importance of approaching this conversation with an open mind, not wanting to intimidate Gabriel into clamming up.
Given the number of arrests involving Gabriel and his two companions, Javier is acutely aware that they may not have the best relationship with authority. Consequently, he opts to adopt a more amicable approach, aiming to play the role of the ‘good cop’.
Gabriel dismisses the notion with a shake of his head. “ Nah, man, we ain't doing all that. ” He replies. August had practically drilled everyone in their group on how to handle police interactions. Normally, Gabriel would stay silent and brush off an officer altogether, but he's aware of Javier's significance, especially regarding August's interest in Paloma.
Sloane has kept them informed about her growing feelings for the older man and how that can be a hindrance to the overarching goal the group has.
“ Kinda fuckin’ annoyin’ that people spew that bullshit without knowin’ how we actually operate. S’like the second they can’t wrap their narrow-minded brains around somethin’–– the first thing they do is shout devil and other obscenities. Pointin’ fingers and grabbin’ their torches and pitchforks. ”
Javier remains silent, allowing Gabriel to voice his thoughts without interruption. Yet, behind his outward calmness, his mind is sharp, absorbing every syllable uttered and analyzing the subtle nuances of Gabe’s demeanor. Observation is a skill honed over years of experience, and Javier excels in deciphering the unspoken language of body cues.
As Gabriel speaks, frustration emanates from him like a palpable force, evident in the tension of his posture and the earnestness in his voice. Javier takes note of every detail, recognizing the authenticity behind the words.
“ It’s why we move around so damn much. Each time we think we found a place to settle in at, they’re runnin’ us off… Y’know, for claiming to be such compassionate people–– they sure are hateful. ”
Javier finds resonance in Gabriel's sentiment. Hypocrisy often cloaks itself in the guise of piety, a facade worn by many he has encountered. The irony is not lost on him as he reflects on the dichotomy between professed faith and heinous deeds.
In his mind's eye, Javier recalls the sanctimonious cartels in Colombia, adorned with religious iconography that belied their nefarious activities. Their clandestine operations, stained with bloodshed and violence, stood in stark contradiction to the sanctity they purportedly revered.
“ Pretty shitty that you all have had to go through that… Has anyone ever attempted to retaliate? Some kind of revenge for constantly being pushed away? ” Javi probes, earning a narrowed gaze from Gabe before their conversation is interrupted by another figure joining in.
“ Chattin’ up a narc? ” The insult rolls off August’s tongue with purpose as he approaches and Javier’s jaw ticks at the sound of his voice.
The two of them size each other up. August is a few inches taller than Javier though the discrepancy hardly matters given Javier's hardened demeanor and inability to appear weak.
Now that he’s got a closer look at the guy, he really can’t fathom what it is that Paloma sees in him.
“ He was just askin’ about the group. Tryin’ to discern if we’re actually killin’ babies ‘round here. ” They share a laugh but Javier remains stone faced, annoyed at August’s interference.
“ Ah, well, officer, I can assure you that none of that is happenin’. We’re a peaceful bunch... don’t bother no one. Keep to ourselves. Sure we’ve all done some pretty fucked up things but that’s all behind us. I created the Paragons of the Sacrificed with one goal: to unite and rehabilitate broken souls without the influence of organized religion. S’been workin’ so far–– most of our members have stayed outta trouble, others following through with their sobriety. ”
Javier remains skeptical of August's supposed rehabilitation, a sentiment perhaps colored by his personal dislike for the man. With little else to say, he simply grunts in acknowledgment. The name of the group now revealed and stored away in his mind.
“ Sounds like a good thing, then. Wonder why everyone is so insistent that you’re all trouble. ”
“ ‘Cause of the childish shit we used to do. S’quite simple. They also feel threatened by the worship of something that isn't their precious God. ”
“ So what is it that you devote yourself to then? ” Javier maintains unwavering eye contact with August as he poses the question, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Amid the tense silence, Javier's attention is diverted by a sudden commotion emanating from inside the church.
“ Seems like you’re needed elsewhere, Officer Peña. ” August remarks with a tilt of his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. Javier feels the temptation to reply with a snarky comment, but he restrains himself.
He's determined to maintain the fragile rapport he's building with Gabriel. He senses that he might be the one to provide the answers he seeks. Javier isn't confident in Sloane's ability to keep his sleuthing quiet around Paloma, and he certainly doesn't trust August.
With a pointed glance at both of them, Javi excuses himself, now determined to investigate the unfolding disturbance.
Upon entering the stuffy church, his stomach sinks as he witnesses the chaotic scene unfolding in the tranquil atmosphere of the Sunday mass.
Mr. Thorton, his face contorted with grief and fueled by alcohol, stumbles down the aisle, his slurred words echoing through the hallowed space. The congregation shifts uncomfortably in their seats as he spews venomous words about his deceased daughter, casting blame upon the town for its perceived failure to bring her justice.
With practiced calm, Javier steps forward, his authoritative presence attempting to quell the rising tension. He approaches Mr. Thorton, who sways unsteadily on his feet, his sorrow morphing into rage. Despite his inebriated state, Mr. Thorton's words cut through the air like knives, each one laced with pain and bitterness.
As Javier attempts to diffuse the situation, Mr. Thorton's desperation reaches a fever pitch. In a moment of reckless anguish, he lunges towards Paloma, his grip fierce and unyielding. The gasps of the onlookers mingle with Paloma's startled cry as Javier moves swiftly to intervene, his strong arms encircling Mr. Thorton and pulling him back with firm force.
The sheriff looks like he might kill the man for putting his hands on his daughter.
In that fraught moment, Javier feels for the broken man before him, his own frustration mirrored in Mr. Thorton's anguished cries. But duty compels him to maintain order. And so, with resolve in his eyes and compassion in his heart, Javier guides Mr. Thorton’s wrists behind his back to cuff him and redirect him away from the congregation.
His steps are heavy with the burden of sorrow that hangs heavy in the air. “ Alright, let’s go. ” Javier murmurs, dragging the babbling man down the aisle and out the door.
Concerned whispers fill the room as a few people gather around Paloma, their eyes reflecting worry and sympathy. She offers them a reassuring smile, her hand absently rubbing at her sore forearm where Mr. Thorton's grip had been firm and unforgiving. Beneath the surface, she can feel the faint stirrings of pain, a precursor to the bruises that will inevitably bloom in the days to come.
Despite the suddenness, Paloma's focus remained fixed on Javier through the entirety of the situation. His entrance had been a beacon of stability in the midst of chaos, his authoritative presence a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil. She watched as he moved through the room with practiced ease, his gaze sweeping over the congregation with a blend of vigilance and concern.
When their eyes met, Paloma felt a rush of gratitude wash over her. And though her arm may bear the physical imprint of Mr. Thorton's aggression, she finds solace in the man who jumped into action.
Because it’s his job, Paloma. Stop overthinking every little interaction you have with him!
Despite the chaos of the moment, Paloma couldn’t help but be entranced by Javier's presence. There's something undeniably sexy about him in his uniform, the way he rushed to her side with a sense of protective urgency that set her heart racing. As he strides out of the church, his silhouette framed by the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, her gaze lingers on the gun tucked into the back of his pants.
For a brief, exhilarating moment, she's overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that flood her senses. The sight of him, strong and resolute in the face of danger, stirs something deep within her, igniting a spark of longing that she struggles to contain. But then reality comes crashing back in, reminding her of the solemn setting of the church and the prying eyes of the congregation.
With a rueful shake of her head, Paloma pushes aside her fleeting infatuation, burying it beneath a veil of composure. She knows that now is not the time nor the place for such thoughts, not with her father and the watchful eyes of their community bearing down on her. And so, with a determined resolve, she squares her shoulders and turns her attention back to the proceedings, pushing aside her wayward emotions in favor of the solemnity of the moment.
The Thorton family's sorrow weighs heavily on Paloma's heart in the aftermath of their tragic loss. It's evident that the death of their daughter has left them shattered, each member of the family bearing the scars of grief in their own way. Mr. Thorton's descent into alcoholism and his wife's spiral into depression paint a poignant picture of their collective anguish.
She finds herself contemplating whether she should reach out to them, offering a small gesture of solace in the face of their immense pain. The idea of stopping by their house, perhaps with a comforting dish in hand, crosses her mind as she ponders ways to alleviate their suffering, even if only for a fleeting moment. Yet, she knows deep down that no amount of well-intentioned gestures can ever fully mend the brokenness that has consumed their family.
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