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whore-era · 1 year

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never meant to be

☁︎ ellie x fem!reader ☁︎ summary: in which you and ellie go through the heartbreaking realization that love is never fair. ☁︎ warnings/themes: cheating (ellie cheats on current gf with you), dina is your sister, heartbreak/forbidden love, not a happy ending, familial issues | fingering/thighriding (r!recieving), use of strap, fem anatomy ☁︎ a/n: hi. don't hate me lol. sometimes i write stories like this to feel a little something. also it's 2:30 am and i have to be in class by 7:00am so this is not proofread lol. there will be NO part two. ☁︎ word count: 9,800 words aka my longest fic yet

for as long as you could remember, you were always in dina's shadow.

despite you being the youngest daughter, dina was your parent's pride and joy. she was the smartest and prettiest daughter, who never failed to win the family's attention.

dina was the 'perfect' daughter in your parent's eyes. she followed in mom's footsteps and won prom queen 3 years in a row and was crowned 1st place as miss wyoming since she was 14 in the annual pageant every year. last year, she got accepted to yale university with the intention of going to law school and becoming a criminal lawyer just like father.

your parents were set on having two extremely intelligent daughters who attended ivy league colleges and strived for an above-average career like an award-winning surgeon or a ground-breaking research scientist.

but that wasn't you. at all.

from a young age, you were always attracted to art — such as sculptures, paintings, murals, and various types of music. you had a keen eye for things more abstract, which always set you apart from your own family.

sure, math and science were subjects that came easily to you, and you had no difficulty with keeping straight A's at school, but you always knew you wanted to do something different than what was set for you.

despite being the black sheep of the family, you did find yourself envying dina. she had the bigger room, nicer clothes, a car, and always got money whenever she asked mom and dad for it. it was hard not to be jealous.

especially since she started bringing ellie williams around.

dina met ellie during her freshman year at yale, and the two hit it off. they officially became a couple this summer, and with the approval of our parents, ellie followed dina back home and agreed to stay the entire summer with her and the family.

from the first moment you met ellie, you were smitten.

it was the first week of summer, and you were relishing in all the much-needed vacation time, knowing by the time summer was over, you would be on your way to los angeles for college.

you were relaxing in bed with your copy of 'pride & prejudice', reading it for probably the 70th time. from your bedroom, you can hear a car pulling up in the driveway followed by your mother's loud voice yelling "welcome home!!", and then slamming car doors. getting up from your comfortable position, you drew the linen curtains to the side and took a peek out your window, down at the driveway.

from above, you could see mother taking dina in her arms, giving her a hug and placing a kiss on her forehead.

your eyes drift to father, and to the girl he was shaking hands with.

she was unlike anyone you've ever seen. her short brunette hair was cut short, hanging right at her neck in the style of a mullet. her slender arms revealed one tattoo on her right forearm that was visible underneath the folded flannel layered over a plain white t-shirt.

she held this charming aura about her, evident by how your father let out a hearty laugh as he gently nudged her on the shoulder. this woman must've been impressive because it was a rarity to see your father laugh, let alone when first meeting someone.

as dina grabbed the girl's hand to drag her inside the house, her eyes flickered up toward you, lingering on you for a little too long.

"so, ellie, tell us. what are you studying at yale?" your father's deep voice resonated throughout the dinner table.

"ugh, daaaad, please. no more interrogating my girlfriend," dina groaned out, "you're gonna scare her away, and we've only been together a month!"

"i was just asking a question, sweetie. no need to fret," your dad interjected as he took another bite of chicken.

ellie cleared her throat before putting her fork down, "uh, i'm actually in a computer science program— i'm in the works of developing my own software."

father's eyes widened, "wow! how impressive! what kind of software is it?"

"it's actually a type of software used by government agencies to store highly classified government documents, sir," ellie added, "it keeps unverified users locked out of the servers so they don't access the documents unless they recognize the IP address, and the software reports any unknown addresses back towards us to be monitored for criminal activity."

your ears would usually tune out the boring conversations held at the dinner table, but you couldn't help but be completely absorbed in everything ellie was saying and it only left you wanting to know more.

"how exciting! glad dina found someone who's doing something significant with their life," your father complimented, "unlike our youngest."

"such a shame. you graduated top of the class this year, yet you want to attend art school." your father's eyes bore into the side of your face as you pretended not to notice his words, distracting yourself by poking at the cold piece of broccoli on the expensive china plate.

"art school is cool too," ellie complimented, "what are you majoring in?"

you picked your head up, surprised by ellie's sudden interest in your studies. you were used to everyone else asking about dina and talking about dina and would compare you to dina. it was exhausting.

"um— fine arts. i'm also minoring in graphic design," you managed to squeak out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"and what are you planning to do with that, young lady?" your dad prodded in his signature stern voice, "you're 18 years old, almost 19, you have to start thinking about your future seriously."

you take the glass of water, and take a sip from it, suppressing that urge to cry from his words, "okay, father."

your mother places a hand on your dad's shoulder, attempting to calm him down, "honey, not at the dinner table."

he doesn't say anything else, and continues eating his dinner, whereas you lost your appetite a long time ago, and are no longer feeling in the mood to be around your family for another second.

the fork falls from your hands, creating a clinging sound against the ceramic dish. "may i be excused?" you tremble, ignoring the burning gaze from the brunette's eyes. you couldn't put into words the humiliation you felt at this moment, and you couldn't bear to look at dina's mocking smirk or at ellie's pitiful stare.

"okay, sweetie. goodnight." your mother murmured. you got up from the chair, and scurried out of the dining room, wanting nothing more but to curl up under your covers and lay in dark silence.

as you ascend up the stairs, you can hear dina continuing the conversation as if nothing ever happened, laughter and jokes ensuing in your absence.

the past two weeks with ellie in the house was an adjustment you had to get used to.

there have been a few occasions where you'd forget to lock the bathroom door, and bam, ellie barges in. luckily, she was a gentlewoman and always covered her eyes even though you were fully clothed. but it was extremely awkward, to say the least.

one morning, you thought the house was empty and took the opportunity to blast your favorite pussycat dolls song and belt out the chorus while shaking your hips around in the living room, only to find ellie looking down at you from the top of the stairs with an amused expression on her face.

needless to say, you put an end to your one-woman concerts and kept them in the privacy of your bedroom.

it was currently 2:45am, and you just wrapped up a painting you started this morning. the house was still and silent, and no one else but you were awake during this time of night.

feeling the gurgle and rumble of your belly, you take off your headphones and tiptoe down the stairs. with your socked feet pitter-pattering on the cold tile of the kitchen, you opened the door to the fridge and scanned the shelves for a tasty late-night snack.

"hmmm...." you hummed, "strawberries and cream might do the trick." you pulled out the bowl of strawberries and a tub of cool whip, and sat down on the tile, opening the lid, and dipping the berry in the creamy topping.

you were about 5 berries deep before you heard a voice clearing their throat, causing you to jump in your spot.

"isn't it a little too late to be eating dessert?" ellie queries. she was in a grey hoodie and plain grey sweatpants with half of her hair tied up. it was evident she probably just woke up, and a part of you felt a little guilty that you possibly were the reason for that.

unable to speak with a mouthful of fruit, you slowly shake your head left and right, eliciting a chuckle from the brunette.

"alright, no judgment here." ellie puts her hands up, "can i join you?"

swallowing the lump of red fruit down your throat, you respond, "sorry, yeah. of course," you hold up the bowl of berries, "want some?"

the girl crouches down and sits next to you on the floor, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it in the cool whip, then taking it all in one bite.

she chews momentarily before shaking her head in satisfaction, "not bad, not bad. never tried this combination before."

"really? i've had this snack for years, ever since i was a little girl," you smile, "it was my dad's favorite snack growing up..."

your voice trailed off as you reminisced about the earlier years when life was easier and you didn't have the pressure of worrying about college or career aspirations. all you and dina worried about was grilled cheeses and finding your bratz doll's missing feet.

ellie spoke again, "were you close with your dad growing up?"

you bit your lip, the sweet taste of strawberry and whipped cream present upon the skin, "yeah. we were," you laughed dryly, "we used to watch those cheesy law and order SVU shows all the time."

"yeah?"

"mhm," you hummed, "they were always entertaining to me. he thought that it'd eventually influence me to become a lawyer like him. he always said that we'd become the dynamic duo or whatever and that we'd kick ass in court."

ellie sat intently, watching you, listening to you as you told her this memory. from the moment she first met you when she got here, she knew you were quite the opposite of dina. dina was type A. she was occasionally uptight, a bit boring, and not really fit for ellie. ellie was chill and was a 'go by the flow' person, which was one thing dina hated about her. don't get her wrong, ellie liked dina, and she liked how dina was funny and smart, but she didn't really see them lasting long-term.

it was shitty. it was shitty how ellie didn't see herself being with dina for that long, and it was worse that ellie didn't have the guts to tell her.

but, for her own selfish reasons, ellie didn't want to tell dina, not yet anyways. she gravitated toward you and often found herself staring at you for a little too long during meals at the table and thinking about what you were doing in the next room over while dina was cuddled up in her arms.

ellie knew this was a bad idea. she could not get attached to her girlfriend's sister. it was nothing but a recipe for disaster.

but ellie was only human. she couldn't help her ever growing curiosity.

"you didn't want to be a lawyer?" ellie asked.

you shook your head, "hell, no. looks stressful and boringgggg," you sang out.

ellie laughed, "yeah, can't disagree with you there. dina tells me it involves lots of reading."

"yea, i'm good." you giggle, "what about you? have you always known that you wanted to work with computers 'n stuff?"

"i guess. i was always a 'nerd' and all that bullshit. loved watching sci-fi movies and shows and i'm also a huge gamer so—" ellie began, "i can't imagine myself not doing anything else other than techie shit."

you nod, putting another cream-covered berry in your mouth, "that makes sense. at least you're passionate about what you do."

"yeah, i guess," ellie snacks on another strawberry, "how 'bout you? you're an artist?"

you cover your mouth to muffle a laugh, "i wouldn't call myself an artist. but i do love painting. it's all i ever want to do."

"then it wouldn't be too much if i could ask to see some of your art."

your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the fruity snack. "what?" your voice almost comes out sounding shocked.

"yeah, i mean, i'd love to see some of your stuff," ellie looked toward you with a sly smile.

"um, no," you laugh, "my parents haven't even seen some of my work."

you were hesitant to show anyone any of your artwork, and only allowing your best pieces to be kept in the security of your personal portfolio, only to be viewed by colleges for applications and such.

"aww, c'mon. i wanna see."

you huff, "maybe."

ellie smirked, "i'll take what i can get," she continues, "besides, think of me as....an art critic."

you let out a giggle, "oh yeah?"

the night progresses and you and ellie get lost in conversation, talking until 4am about life and whatnot. ellie was an easygoing person to talk to. she never seemed to judge you for any of your own opinions, and it felt like she was actually interested in what you had to say. it felt like you've known her for years, even though it's only been a matter of weeks.

you could already see the rays of orange peeking up from the navy, blue sky. it was already early morning.

"we should probably head back upstairs," you suggest, nodding your head towards the window, "the sun's gonna rise....and dina'll wake up soon."

it was like clockwork. dina woke up every morning at 6:30 am, never earlier nor later. you definitely did not want her to catch you and ellie here, alone and together.

for a moment, ellie forgot that she was here with dina. it was fucking terrible and she felt guilty, but she really liked spending the night talking with you and she knew she needed to do it again.

"uh— no, yeah, of course," ellie stood up first, holding out a hand to help you up next.

you took her warm hand in yours and hoisted yourself up until you were stable on your feet.

"thanks," you murmur.

"yeah, no problem."

ellie didn't pull her hand away, and neither did you. it was like your hands were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly in the spaces of each other's fingers.

realizing what was happening, you quickly pulled your hand away from hers, "uh—"

"fuck, sorry," ellie stammered, "i'm getting— um— awfully tired."

good excuse, ellie thought to herself.

"it's fine, no worries. let's head upstairs," you lead the way up toward the stairs with ellie alongside you. you stop in front of your bedroom door and ellie stops in front of dina's, her hand lingering on the doorknob.

"yeah?"

"um— just wanted to say goodnight, ellie." you smile at her, and she returns the favor.

"goodnight." ellie whispers, and you both head inside.

with dina still fast asleep, ellie crawls into bed next to her. she pulls the blanket close to her body, and turning away from her sleeping girlfriend, a small smile makes its way across her face as her mind drifts to you and how you were just a few feet away, a wall being the only thing separating you both.

and as you crawl into the comfort of your own bed, you couldn't help the wide smile that curls upon your lips as you thought about ellie, and how badly you wanted to talk to her again, ignoring the fact that she was probably laid up against your sister's body, holding her close.

it was an unfortunate thing — the slow formation of the connection between two people who were right for each other but were bound by the fate of knowing deep inside the chance of them being together was just not a possibility.

ellie could not get herself to fall asleep. she's been here for weeks, yet found herself tossing or turning in bed, never sleeping soundly for more than 3 hours at a time.

it happened again tonight. she fell asleep at 11:00pm, and here she was, wide awake at 3:00am.

she never knew how dina could do it— how she could make her body sleep at the same time, and stay asleep until morning.

ellie blamed it on the idea that her body wasn't adjusted to being at dina's house with her family. she thought that spending her summer vacation with dina's family would be fun and that it would be a good getaway from all the stress at school.

but ellie fucking hated your dad. from the first night she met him, she hated how he talked down to you. he was an asshole. it was obvious to ellie that he favored dina, and she knew it was only because she was following the same career path he was on. ellie didn't agree with how he felt about you at all, and desperately wished she could say something to him, but she thought it'd be best to not interfere...for now.

sighing, ellie took the covers off and quietly walked towards the door, slowly opening it and gently closing it.

she didn't know what the hell compelled her to walk over to your bedroom door, but before she had any time to even consider her actions, her fist planted three soft knocks on the surface.

ellie thought you must've been fast asleep by now, but a small part of her hoped that you would still be awake.

you swung your bedroom door open, unsure who would be knocking on your door at this hour, but was relieved to see it was ellie, "oh, hey."

ellie's eyes trailed up and down your body, taking you in and letting her eyes rake over the way your sleep shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder and how your cotton shorts stop mid-thigh.

she had to force her eyes back up on your face, and she was beating herself up for even letting her look at you that way, like a piece of meat.

"uh- er- sorry, i was just—" ellie stuttered, "i couldn't sleep."

you nod slowly, and step aside to let her inside your room.

god, this was such a bad idea.

after letting her inside, you close the door and lock it. walking back over towards your bed, you plop down on the mattress as ellie awkwardly stands in the middle of your room.

"you can sit down, you know," you giggle, and ellie shrugs and chooses to sit on your swiveling desk chair.

silence fills the air for a moment before ellie speaks up first.

"were you busy?"

you shake your head, "nope, was just reading a book."

"ahh, okay," ellie was silent for a moment before speaking again, "sorry again, for uh— bothering you."

"you didn't bother me," you laugh, "i'm usually up around this time anyways, jus' doing whatever."

ellie nods and turns the chair to face your desk where she sees your black leather sketchbook. her fingers open the book to a random page, and it was a sketch of a cat napping on a window sill in incredible detail.

the sound of pages flipping caught your attention, and you immediately jump to your feet as the realization hits you.

"hey! my sketchbook!" your hands quickly try to snatch the book from her hands, but ellie was faster, and got up and held the black book up and out of your reach. to your loss, ellie had the advantage of being a couple inches taller than you were, which made it extremely difficult for you to get to your book.

"these are amazing! let me just look through them a little bit longer—" ellie says, flipping through the pages of all the sketches you made, "holy shit— is that— is that me?"

your eyes grow wider, and you could feel the sweat seeping out of your pores, "give that back!"

you jump and try to grab the book, but ellie has this annoying smirk on her face as she holds the book high above her head, knowing you wouldn't be able to grab ahold of it due to your shorter stature.

"ugh, seriously?" you whine, flushing red in embarrassment, feeling like she just read an extremely personal section of your diary. in a way, your sketchbook was your diary.

"let me take a picture of my sketch and i'll give it back to you, deal?" ellie attempted to negotiate with you, but you narrowed your eyes at her, really not wanting her to have any evidence of your sketch at all. but she doesn't seem like the type to take no for an answer.

luckily, you were quite the trickster yourself. it's a youngest child thing.

you huff, "fine."

ellie smiles with pride, and as she lowers her arm to put the sketchbook down, you act fast and seize the book. but before you succeed, ellie snatches it back, and suddenly she's falling back onto your bed. you fail to steady yourself, following suit and landing on top of her, your forehead thumping against hers.

"ouch."

both of your eyes meet, and for a second, everything stands still. you and ellie don't move, afraid that whatever happens next, it'll end up with you both in a compromising situation.

"i— uh—" you sputter, "sorry." you quickly scramble up to your feet, getting off of her, and standing back to create some distance.

the absence of your body made ellie feel cold, but she pushed that feeling to the side and stood on her own two feet, handing you your sketchbook.

"thanks," you take the book from her hands and stuff it in the top left drawer of your dresser, where it usually is anyways.

"you know, those were really good," ellie mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "especially the one of me."

heat rises to your face once again, "it was from the day i saw you in the driveway— when you first got here with dina."

she nods, "i can tell, 's really good though. i swear."

you blush, "thanks," you think of something quick to change the subject, wanting to stray away from your sketch of her, still reeling in the embarrassment of her finding out.

"wanna watch the office?"

4:58am

you know what? imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, so i thank you.

"god, i love dwight so much, dude," ellie laughs, throwing a chip in her mouth as she watches jim's character pull out the bobblehead and place it on his desk.

identity theft is not a joke, jim! millions of families suffer every year!

michael!

oh that's funny— michael!

you let out a sleepy giggle, cuddling your pillow. you and ellie had been on your bed with the show playing on your laptop for an hour already, while she munched away on a bag of chips you had in your room.

ellie turned her head to check on you, and she could tell by your heavy eyelids that you were about to knock out in any second, "you sleepy?"

"mhm," you manage to hum out.

she smiles, in awe at your cute, sleepy state.

"go 'head and sleep. i'll finish up this episode and let myself out when it's over," ellie murmurs. she unfolds the blanket that was sitting at the edge of your bed and places it over your body.

"you sure?" you ask, nearly half asleep.

"mhm. i'll be gone by the time you wake up." but you knew you didn't want ellie to be gone when you woke up and ellie didn't want to go either.

as the show continues to run, you close your eyes and fall into slumber.

you weren't sure what woke you up, but you did. you hear the sound of 'the office' theme song playing, causing you to stir slightly, but you were surprised by the pressure present around your waist.

you sit up a bit, and you see ellie fast asleep, with her arm wrapped tightly around your waist, spooning you.

you look at the clock next to your bed and read the time: 6:23 am.

the air is sucked out from your lungs. dina is gonna be up soon.

"ellie! wake up!" you whisper quite loudly in her ear, shaking her awake. she doesn't wake up, and just groans, pulling you back to hold you again.

ignoring the butterflies going rampant in your belly, you attempt to wake her up again, "ellie! please, wake up," you shake her arm, "dina's gonna wake up in any minute."

ellie's green eyes open, and for a moment she's glad it's your face she sees when she wakes up, until the realization dawns on her.

"shit, shit, shit," ellie curses, getting off your bed and standing up, "i have to go."

and she exits your bedroom, leaving you alone in your bed only with the memory of waking up in her arms.

as ellie slowly and quietly enters dina's bedroom, she's relieved by the sight of dina's body still fast asleep. she gets back in bed and turns away from her, trying to calm her fast heart rate down.

on cue, dina's alarm clock goes off at 6:30 am sharp. ellie can feel dina turning and shutting off her alarm clock, and then she scootches closer and wraps her arms around ellie's body, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"morning, babe," dina whispers, and ellie shuts her eyes, pretending she's still asleep.

ellie lets out a mumbled 'morning' sounding groan and nestles her face into the pillow. she feels dina get up from bed and head into the bathroom to begin her morning routine, leaving ellie alone, wishing she had you wrapped up in her arms instead.

two days had gone by and you barely talked to ellie, sharing nothing but longing glances and brushes of fingers when you handed her a plate during meal times.

you didn't purposely intend to avoid ellie, but your mother had filled your agenda with errands for your 19th birthday party this weekend. you had to go talk to the caterers, talk to the florist, get fitted for a dress, buy new shoes, send out invitations— it was all so tedious and tiring, but you didn't want to make your mother upset by disappointing her.

the contractors were currently setting up the house with decorations and such for the party, and ellie was outside in the backyard with father, helping the rest of the workers set up a stage and other things needed.

you hated hot days, especially ones like these, where the air was scorching and dry. but you couldn't complain today, ellie was in a tight, white tank top showing off her muscular biceps and arms. you couldn't help but stare a little longer, trailing your eyes over the beads of sweat that would roll down her neck.

thank god for hot days like this one.

"honey, will you please do me a favor and bring out this tray of refreshments to everyone outside please?" your mother handed you a tray of cold drinks and fresh fruit.

"of course," you smooth out your sundress and take the tray from her hands, walking out of the kitchen and through the open doors leading to the backyard patio.

you walk over toward where they were working and set down the tray, "here are some cold drinks everyone."

your father and the workers mutter a quick thank you and take the offerings, sipping on the chilled drinks and talking amongst themselves.

however, what ellie needed wasn't a cold refreshment or a fruity snack. in fact, the only thing she could think of that would help ellie in this heat right now was you.

she couldn't tear her eyes away from the way your tits looked, the way the fabric hugged the soft, pillowy flesh. she definitely couldn't look away when you walked back towards the house, only wishing she can run her hands over the smooth skin of your thighs, grabbing on your ass.

the way you made ellie sweat was incomparable to the sun's radiating heat.

"excuse me, i'm gonna use the bathroom," ellie muttered, making her way back inside the house.

as you neared the kitchen, you overhear your mother's conversation with dina.

"yeah, we'll be leaving a little early. i have stuff to do back on campus," dina's voice remarks.

"oh, that's too bad. i really like having you both here," your mother pouts, "when are you and ellie leaving?"

"the day after the party," dina replies, "it'll give us time to rest and pack up."

your heart sank in your chest. ellie was leaving? and so soon?

you ran back inside the house, jogging up the stairs, not wanting dina or your mother to see the tears watering in your eyes.

"sweetie? you okay?" your mother yells out from the kitchen.

"uh, yeah! just need to get something from my room!"

you make a bee-line to the bathroom and shut the door behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and letting yourself break down in tears.

something like this was bound to happen. you knew ellie wouldn't stay here forever, and you would be leaving for college. but why did this hurt so bad?

you hear the bathroom door open, and you quickly wipe your eyes.

"e-ellie?"

the brunette was surprised to see you in the bathroom at first, knowing you did have a habit of leaving the door unlocked sometimes, but that all went away and concern washed over her as she noticed your tear-filled eyes and red, stuffy nose.

"hey, hey, hey," she whispers as she takes a few steps toward you, "what's wrong?"

you blink a couple times, a tear falling down your cheek. you hesitated to answer her question.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" ellie coos, her hands soothingly rubbing up and down your arms.

you nod, and bite your lip, thinking of how to word your response correctly, "d-dina said you both were leaving after my b-birthday."

ellie softens and an evident look of disappointment appears on her face, "yeah, we are."

you wipe your nose, looking up at her with glossy eyes, "it feels like you just got here and— and—" you sniffle, "you're leaving already."

ellie's heart soars understanding that you were upset because she was leaving. "i know and i'm sorry," she snakes her arms around your waist, pulling you close to her, "i wish i met you sooner."

ellie wished she met you first, she would actually have a chance at giving you both a shot without the guilt of betraying dina.

you bury your face into her shirt, the scent of her perfume wafting in your nostrils. god, there was just so much to do and so little time.

you pull your head back to get a good look at her face, to memorize her features, and sear them into your brain.

your eyes fell to her lips, and before you could even form a single thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers.

ellie instinctively pulled you closer by your waist, kissing back, moving her lips slowly with yours.

you slowly try to pull away from her lips, but she brings you back in for more, her grip on your waist never releasing.

"ellie," you breathe out, but it comes out sounding more like a moan, "w-we can't," you whine, "d-dina's here."

fuck. she stops, and pulls away from your lips, leaning her forehead against yours for a brief moment.

ellie plants a small kiss on your forehead, before letting you go and exiting the bathroom, leaving you alone once again.

"happy birthday, dear," the lady greets, leaning to give you a kiss on your cheekbone, "19 is such a fun age, don't take advantage of it, alright, hun?"

"sure," you hum, smiling back as the lady retreats back to the party, getting lost in the sea of people.

you had no idea who she was. actually, you didn't know a lot of the people here. a bunch of them were your father's associates from the law firm, some of your mom's book club members, and dina's friends from high school.

it was your birthday party, but your parents never turned down the idea of hosting a celebration if it was an excuse to mingle and network.

you head upstairs toward the balcony and step outside to the cool, summer night, leaning against the railing. you took a deep breath in, briefly closing your eyes in an attempt to gather your thoughts and clear your head.

"not enjoying the party?"

the sound of the voice causes you to spin in your spot, and you're met with ellie standing at the doorway. she was dressed in a white, collared dress shirt that was slightly unbuttoned at the top, with black slacks. her hair was down, in her signature mullet. you could tell she'd been drinking, as her eyes appeared dazed and she seemed more relaxed.

"uh— it was getting hot and stuffy in there," you tore your eyes away from her, "i just needed some air."

ellie sauntered over, standing next to you and placing her arms against the rail. her eyes raked over your body, drinking in how absolutely gorgeous you looked in your dress.

"you look beautiful tonight."

heat rose to your cheeks, and luckily the blush you wore today camouflaged the deepening crimson fading on your cheeks, "thanks."

"you always look beautiful, but you know, it's your birthday tonight and i had to remind you."

it was possible that ellie's words just fell from her lips because she was slightly inebriated, but it was true. ellie thought you were the most beautiful thing this earth could offer. you were the closest thing to heaven on earth.

but ellie couldn't have you, and without you, she was in her own personal hell.

you cleared your throat, attempting to wave off the tension in the air, "are you enjoying the party?"

she shrugged, "yeah, it's okay. i mean— dina's been introducing me to all your dad's friends and shit, trying to show me off like some kind of fuckin' trophy or something." she lets out a harsh laugh, "have you met my girlfriend ellie? she's a computer science engineer at yale! she's already done work for google and apple! isn't that so cool?"

ellie mocks dina's voice, and you can tell she has this slight bitterness to her. but you couldn't blame her for how she felt, dina only cared about the superficial things.

"oh...i'm sorry," you turn your head to face the view, "she's always been like that. trying to compete with everyone else and prove that she's better."

"yeah, i fucking hate that."

silence falls between you two again, and the elephant in the room couldn't be more obvious. it's been two days since the kiss in the bathroom occurred, and neither of you had even acknowledged it since then.

ellie would occasionally find herself thinking about the way your lips molded onto hers, and how she'd risk her relationship with dina just to experience it one more time. hell, she'd break up with dina.

it was hard for you to think about ellie without having the guilt bubble in your belly. you couldn't get ellie out of your head at all, and frequently spent those late nights fantasizing what it'd be like to be in dina's position, as ellie's girlfriend.

but, those feelings of shame always came to the surface and you tried to suppress them, pushing them into the dark corners of your mind, but as the day's progressed, it got harder and harder to do.

even being next to ellie made your body feel like it was on fire, and the urge to kiss her again was coming full throttle. you had to leave before you did something you both would regret.

"umm, i'll see you down there," you quickly sputter out before turning your heel to leave, but you felt ellie's hand grip your arm, stopping you.

"wait."

you force yourself to look at ellie, and your eyes connect with hers. your heart rate picked up, and suddenly the oxygen left your lungs. it was insane how one person could make you feel like this— like you could die if you were to let go.

"i—" ellie was about to let her heart speak for herself, and she was going to tell you everything. she was going to put her heart on the line and risk everything, for you."

"ellie! elllieee! where are yo— oh! there you are!" dina appeared at the doorway, a wide smile on her face as she finally found ellie. "where were you? i have to introduce you to this guy who works for this video game company! come on!"

before ellie can say anything, dina grabs her arm and drags ellie away.

the party happened and ended. you blew out your candles and cut the cake, and soon enough all the people left by midnight. dina was fast asleep on the couch in the living room downstairs, as the expensive, bubbly champagne had officially defeated your older sister.

your parents were asleep. dina was asleep. the only two people awake in the house was you and ellie, a deadly combination.

ellie was in the next room, intoxicated, and thinking about what her next moves were. she was leaving tomorrow and she knew that soon enough that you would be leaving for los angeles too, for college.

the thought of you possibly meeting someone new during college made her skin burn. ellie wanted to be that person for you, to be the one who made you laugh, to be the one who you called at the end of the day to tell her all about what happened in class, to be the one who gave you butterflies and made your heart flip.

fuck it, ellie thought, and the next thing she knew she was walking to your room and knocking on your door.

you swung the door open, and ellie swore she could've died and gone right to heaven. you were still in your birthday dress, but your hair was down, and you just looked like the most beautiful thing she'd seen in a long time. it was impossible that you were a real person.

"....ellie?" you spoke softly, and the sound of your voice knocked her out of her thoughts.

"huh? yeah— uh— fuck. sorry," ellie stammered, "can— can i come in?"

"sure."

you could smell the mixture of whiskey and her sandalwood perfume radiating off her body, and it was an addicting combination. you just wanted to bury your face in her neck and sniff her, as creepy as that did sound.

you sit down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs, and ellie leans against your wall, with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her black slacks. she was still in her outfit, but the top of the buttons of her shirt were opened much wider, revealing a bit of skin.

silence falls in the room, and there was tension in the room. the room was beginning to feel humid and hot, and a small bead of sweat rolled down your temple.

ellie's eyes raked over you in your little dress, and how the dress bunches up just enough for her to get a peek of the sweet skin of your inner thighs, a paradise she's been dreaming of.

she wasn't sure if it was the little bit of alcohol still left in her system, but she could feel that familiar heat bubble in her core, making her feel even hotter.

"so, i was thinking, and i realized that i didn't say 'happy birthday' to you," ellie spoke softly, "i didn't even get you a gift."

your eyes widen, and you let out a small laugh, "it's fine, don't worry about it."

"nah, you've been so good to me, and— i mean— the least i could do is buy you something or take you out for dinner when me and dina come back for winter break."

your smile falters. when me and dina come back. the words echo throughout your head. me and dina. come back.

shaking your head, you try your best to respond without choking up, "i-it's okay..."

"what? don't be ridiculous-"

you cut her off, "it's f-fine, ellie," you breathe out, "i'm gonna head to bed now."

a pang hits ellie in the chest, and a look of hurt washes over her. "w-what? but i-"

you couldn't contain the jealousy that simmered in your belly, and it was partly due to the specialty cocktails you had tonight. you just had to have a midori sour.

"you and dina have to leave early tomorrow," you spat, with venom dripping off every word. it was enough to be noticed by ellie, and she received your message.

ellie doesn't say anything and her mind whirls in search of the words she wants to say.

after a few seemingly long minutes, she speaks up, "i think i'm gonna break up with dina."

your head snaps in her direction, your expression in utter disbelief, "what?"

ellie nods, "yeah."

"but, why?" you ask, "dina loves you and my family loves you—"

"dina is not who i want to be with."

you freeze, and your heart skips a beat.

"who do you want to be with?" you had an idea of who, but you played dumb, eager to hear her say the words.

"you."

time stops, and suddenly, everything feels like it's frozen in time, and the only two things that were present were you and ellie. for a moment, you let yourself imagine how things would be if she did break up with dina and went with you instead. of course, you would be over the moon being ellie's girlfriend, but at what cost?

dina would surely hate you if she already didn't and she'd make your life a living hell. and your parents? your dad would think you were a bigger disappointment, especially for ruining his perfect daughter's relationship.

you and ellie would face ultimate backlash, and wouldn't be on the receiving end of support from those close to you.

it pained you to think about it, but you had to be realistic.

"ellie......" you whispered, your voice coming out slightly strained, "i don't think we could be together."

ellie shakes her head, "we can. i'll break up with dina and— and— we'll have a long distance relationship and we'll come back—"

"and we'll be here? together? in front of dina and my parents?" you cut her off, hurt evident in your voice.

her demeanor faltered, and she was quiet for a moment. ellie understood your point of view, and how it'd be difficult to continue a relationship with her ex-girlfriend's sister.

"just stay with her."

ellie sighed, "no, even if we can't be together, there's no way i'm going to stay with her. no fucking way."

"but—"

"no. i don't want to be with her," ellie comes closer to where you were, causing you to stand on your feet and back up, "everyone is talking about how everyone else would feel. what about me? i can't fucking stand not being with you. you think i enjoy thinking about you while i lay with dina? do you even understand how hard it is for me to just look at you? do you know what you do to me?"

you feel the cool surface of the wall press on your skin as you were backed up against the wall. she had you cornered and you couldn't do anything about it, and a small part of you enjoyed this.

ellie's voice is low and raspy, "do you have any idea how much i think about you? having you as mine? thinking about the things i would do to you?"

you swallow hard, and you shake your head left to right, "ellie, you're just d-drunk."

she shakes her again, "i'm not. i'm one hundred percent sober."

"you're talking nonsense—" you try to convince her, but deep down inside, this was you trying to convince yourself.

"why can't you just face the fact that i want you?"

"because you're dating my sister!" the tone of your voice shocks the brunette.

"i can't— i can't have these feelings for you," you breathe out, "you're with dina."

ellie closes her eyes at the mention of her name, and again, silence fills the space.

"then let's forget about her, okay? for one night, i just want to forget about her," ellie whispers, "all i wanna focus on is you."

you search her face, and you bite your lip, actually contemplating the idea.

as you and ellie make eye contact, it was then you realize how close she was to you, you can nearly taste her lips if you leaned in further enough.

and in a swift move, ellie presses her lips against yours, pushing you against the wall. her hands cup your cheeks, kissing you with a sense of urgency and passion.

she takes control, and pushes her tongue in between your lips, roaming around in your mouth, eliciting a mewl from the back of your throat.

ellie's hands move to the back of your neck, and wrapped up in each other's lips, you both continue your way over to your bed, falling onto the mattress.

you pull away for a brief moment to flip her over, straddling her and sitting on her thighs.

ellie bunches your dress around your hips, fully exposing your thighs for her enjoyment. her cold hands send a shudder up your spine as they make their way to your thighs, "so fucking gorgeous."

ellie whispers, and she reconnects her lips against yours, and you couldn't help but grind your core against her, eager for friction as you feel a pool of wetness gather in your panties.

you let out a small whimper against her lips, and ellie grows more greedy, and slides her tongue inside your mouth again. the burning heat forming in your core begins to be harder to control, and you couldn't help but grind your pussy harder against her again.

the brunette smiles against your lips, and she takes hold of your hips, guiding you and placing you securely on her right thigh, "there, baby. grind that pretty fuckin' pussy on my thigh."

desperate for more, you place your arms around her neck for security and begin rubbing your panty-covered pussy against her pants, the fabric providing some friction on your swollen clit.

you couldn't suppress the soft whimpers that leave your lips, and ellie presses her lips against yours, drinking in every single moan that reverberates through your throat. she has you right where she wants you, wet and desperate for her.

"ellie.." your parted lips whine, "want more."

your pleas come out sounding as pathetic moans, and she smirks at the sight of you, eager for more.

"yeah? you want more, baby?" you nod frantically.

the brunette flips you over, takes you off her thigh and lays you on your back. using her knee to part your thighs, her fingers slowly trail down your inner thighs, and she uses her index finger to slide your panties to the side, sliding her finger down the wet slit of your pussy.

"shit," she curses, "so wet for me."

your hips buck up, craving more and more of her touch against your sensitive cunt, "ellie, please."

smirking, ellie pulls down your panties, the damp fabric pooling at your ankles, and she uses two fingers to spread your lips, the wet skin creating a slick-sounding echo throughout the room.

she uses one finger to rub your soaked, swollen clit, drenching her finger with your wetness.

"hmmph," you whimper, gripping her arm tight. ellie takes your lips in hers, muffling your pleading moans with her mouth as her fingers rub agonizing slow circles on your pussy.

she briefly pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily, "god, you're so beautiful when you moan."

ellie continues the circles against your clit, and you grab her wrist, stopping her, "e-ellie, please, i-i want more.."

the brunette pauses and thinks for a moment, "alright, baby, give me a second and wait here."

ellie places a kiss on your forehead, pulling her fingers out of you and quickly hurrying out of your bedroom. seconds later, you hear your door open and you see her come back in with a black strap and a harness.

"do you use that with—"

ellie cuts you off, "no. this one's new."

she takes off her shirt, and her black pants, leaving her in a plain black sports bra and plaid red boxers. she quickly hooks the harness around her hips and attaches the strap.

coming back on the bed, ellie looks at you with soft eyes, "is this okay with you?"

you nod, "yes, it's perfect."

she smiles, and she leans in to kiss you again, this time the kiss being much gentler than the previous one before. her hands make their way down your hips, and taking the hem of your dress in her hands, she slips it off of you.

pulling away, she takes the chance to gaze at your body. there was nothing but absolute adoration in those pools of green.

"you're beautiful, have i told you that?"

"only a couple times," you reply shyly, and ellie smiles, kissing your cheek.

her hands gently part your thighs, and she lines her cock up at your entrance. "we'll start off slow, yeah? you let me know if anything hurts, and i'll stop, baby."

looking up at her with glossy eyes, you nod. ellie takes the base of her strap and slowly slides it inside of your pussy, slowly filling you up.

"oh my god." was all you could muster.

"fuck," ellie curses, "you're so fuckin' wet for me, sweet girl."

filling you up almost completely, she grabs your waist and begins thrusting her hips, the strap easily sliding in and out of your wet pussy.

your eyes roll to the back of your head and you grab onto her arm, your grip tightening around her limb with each striking thrust.

the sound of clapping skin and wet slick fill the room, along with a combination of your soft whimpers and ellie's groans.

"keep your eyes on me, babe, wanna see those pretty eyes as i fuck you," ellie groans out, tilting your chin to look up at her.

how can something so wrong feel so right? she had your legs spread apart, with her strap buried deep inside you as dina slept soundly just downstairs.

it was hard to feel guilty when she was hitting every sweet spot inside you.

ellie leaned her forehead against yours, her thrusts never losing rhythm as you coat the black silicone in your white, cream.

as her strap slides in and out of your pussy, that familiar knot begins to form in your belly, and you feel almost as if you're nearing the edge.

"god, ellie— i think i'm about to cum," you stammer out, feeling your pussy tighten around her cock. ellie's eyes never stray away from yours, wanting to make sure you kept your eyes on her.

"yeah? come on, pretty girl, cum on my cock," she coaxes you, and her words cause that feeling of euphoria to wash over you, as you tip over the edge and writhe beneath her.

"ellie," you cry out, "i-i l-love you, fuck." you whimper out, as your pussy clenches around her, the black plastic strap squelching as your juices drip all over it.

"i love you, baby," ellie groans out, as she does one last thrust inside you, falling over in exhaustion onto the bed.

moments later, ellie gets up and takes the strap off. she cleans you up with a clean, wet rag, and climbs into your bed, the both of you still without clothes.

she drapes the blanket over your bodies, and she pulls you close to her.

"you okay?" she asks.

"mhm, i'm more than okay," you hum.

a comfortable silence falls, and you speak up again.

"i just wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," you whisper, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

ellie kisses the top of your forehead, and rubs your back soothingly, "me neither, baby."

and you and ellie both fall asleep in each other's arms, just for this one night.

you really didn't want to have to see dina and ellie off.

it was sad enough that the girl you were in love with was dating your sister, but for her to go to university almost halfway across the country was something close to heartbreak.

luckily, ellie woke up early and got ready and packed up her things before dina woke up. but unfortunately, you woke up alone.

and for the rest of the morning, you stayed cooped up in your bedroom, not wanting to endure the sorrow of seeing ellie leave.

but she had to.

from your upstairs window, you watched as your father and ellie both began loading up the car with suitcases and other bags.

you didn't even want to say goodbye to her, knowing that the minute you saw her face, you'd burst into tears.

so, you just decided you wouldn't say anything to her at all. it was easier that way and it made a cleaner cut.

you hear a knock on your door, and your mother's head peeks out in your bedroom.

"hey honey," she coos, "come downstairs and say goodbye to ellie and dina."

you sigh and turn your head away from the door, "no, thanks. they'll be good without me."

you hear your mother sigh, and she shuffles into your room, closing the door behind you and sitting next to you on the bed.

"don't you wanna say goodbye to your sister, before she leaves?"

you shrug, "dee will be fine without my goodbye."

and for a moment, your mother is silent.

"well," she begins, "don't you want to say goodbye to ellie?"

you were stumped and you didn't reply.

"after all those late night conversations and such, i think ellie would want you to say goodbye."

your eyes widen in surprise, and you turn to look at your mother. "hold on, you know about that?"

she scoffs, "i may be your mom, but i'm not stupid." she laughs, "i can see things from a mile away, and my motherly intuition is telling me that...you like ellie."

you sigh and tear your eyes away from your mother, feeling ashamed, "i know, and i'm a terrible sister for that."

your mom soothingly rubs your back, "no, that makes you human. you can't help who you get feelings for, hun."

she tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles at you, "ellie is an amazing girl, and i'm glad she realizes how wonderful you are."

tears fill your eyes, and you completely break down. your mom looks at you with sympathy, her heart cracking seeing her daughter experience heartbreak, "i love her, mom."

you let out these muffled sobs, and your mom takes you in her arms, comforting you as you cry.

as soon as you come back, she wipes your tears, and takes hold of your hands, "listen to me, sweetie," she coos, "if you love her, let her go, and if she comes back, she was always yours. but if she doesn't, it was never meant to be."

you laugh a little bit, "ugh, mom, that was corny."

"it is, but it's also true," she says, "which is why i think you need to say goodbye to ellie. life will take you in two different paths, and you'll regret it if you don't say anything."

absorbing her words, you nod and wipe your face with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. you get up from your spot, and hurry outside, nearly sprinting to the driveway, seeing dina already in the passenger seat and ellie about to get in the driver's side.

"wait!" you call out, and ellie's head snaps in your direction, a wide smile curling on her face.

first, you jog over to dina, "bye, dee. have fun at yale and stay safe."

you kept your words short and sweet.

"thanks, kid. go crazy in LA, okay?"

smiling, you nod at her and make your way over to the driver's side of the car, where ellie was standing and waiting.

you stand in front of her and you take a deep breath, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for a tight hug.

you take this opportunity to whisper in her ear, only for her to hear, "maybe in the off chance we see each other again, and things are right, we can give us a shot."

"you better stay true to your words, pretty girl, because i plan on seeing you again," you can hear the smile in her voice as her arms wrap around your waist.

before anyone notices the prolonged hug, you pull away from her and stand next to your mom and dad, where you all wave goodbye to them as they pull away and disappear into the road.

maybe in another life, in another time, in another dimension, you and ellie were together.

you would have this big house overlooking the hills, and you'd have this amazing studio with huge windows to paint whatever you wanted and ellie would have her own office, dealing with her own ordeals. you would have a dog running around with a grumpy cat trailing along with them. you and ellie would always end the day with dinner together, and by the end of the night, you would be curled up in her arms and life would be perfect.

but this wasn't another life. for now, you and ellie were just two souls who are merely passing by each other in this lifetime. from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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whenlostinthedarkness · 11 months

Text

Afterglow: Chapter 2 / Part 1 - In My Way

Leader Singer!Reader x Lead Guitarist!Ellie Williams

Photo by @abbysthighs ; edited by me

Summary: You and the band attend a party after the show, which leaves you social exhausted. Ellie takes note and you both decide to head back to the hotel for some much needed come down time from the surplus of social interaction

Warnings: Social anxiety, Weed smoking, and mentions of reader & Ellie’s past relationship; I believe that is it.

A/N: If you haven't caught on by now, each chapter will be named after a MUNA song that is fitting for the situation. Listen to ' In My Way' here.

Intro | Chapter One |

A soft towel was thrown around your shoulder by Dina as you and the rest of your bandmates exited from the stage, leaving a crowd still screaming as they begged for yet another encore, even though you'd already given them two on top of the one you did every night of every show.

"Well, they were fucking crazy", Jesse laughed while dabbing his forehead with his own towel.

"Seriously! I think that was the highest energy we've gotten from a crowd so far," Ellie said, mirroring Jesse as she too held the towel against her forehead that was dampened with a few locks of hair.

The thundering crowds noises were quickly dissipating the further your band walked into the back stage area, until you all had finally made it to the large, shared dressing room.

"God, it's fucking hot!," you exclaimed while dramatically fanning yourself as you stood in front of a table top revolving fan that was turned up to high.

"Yes, yes you are," Dina teased as she began undoing her button up shirt, joining the rest of the group that had already started undressing out of their sweaty clothes.

In a flirtatious manor, that you both knew held nothing but friendly intentions, you turned around with your hand on your hip.

"Don't tease me D."

"What if I'm not?"

Both of your coquettish expressions caved into humored ones the minute you made eye contact.

"We've already been down that route in college, no need to revisit it," you joked with a pointed finger as you began undoing your top.

"God, don't remind me. It was like fucking my sister-no offense." You nodded in agreement with Dina as you voiced your mutual feelings about the night both of you had drunkenly hooked up after a party in college.

Thankfully, It wasn't a completely bad experience. It was the reason the both of you had become friends after all. What better way to bond than after a hook up that neither of you felt a romantic connection with, yet still enjoyed the others company.

As Ellie began zipping out of her jeans, she couldn't help but listen in on yours and Dina's conversation and reminisce about that night.

You, Ellie, and an apartment that was much too small for the amount of people that were walking in through the back door.

A local college band was playing in a space that no doubt was originally a living room that had been moved around to arrange a space for the band and others to gather around them.

You held on tight to the back of Ellie's-aka your roommate who you had met just a couple days ago- shirt as you allowed her to guide you through the mass amount of bodies that were somehow fit into this space that couldn't have been more than 1,000 square feet.

As college parties go, you and Ellie ended up talking with cheap beers in hand for awhile as you watched the people around you, until you saw Dina walk in. She was clearly the life of the party, which is what caught your attention in the first place…and she wasn't bad looking either.

Ellie remembered you whispering how hot you thought the dark haired girl, who you would come to know as Dina, was. Urgently, Ellie turned her head to look at you with furrowed eyebrows that begged to ask a question.

"Are you gay?"

Present day Ellie laughed quietly in the dressing room as she recalled you saying "do I look like I'm straight?", in a way that was so deeply offended, you would've thought you had been mistaken for the worst possible human being one could imagine.

Suddenly, there was a feeling of fear and hope spun together in a braided ribbon. Because now that she knew you liked girls, that meant that her immediate attraction to you wasn’t something that she could shove off in a corner. No, now her mind would conjure up all these scenarios and universes where it was you and her tangled up in sheets as your bare skin touched her bare skin, all because it was something that was possible.

Sure, it wasn’t definite and, at that time Ellie had no idea that you had felt this immediate attraction to her as well, but now, it was easier for her to picture herself with you because it wasn’t like the crushes Ellie had on straight girls in the past. This time it was real and raw and vulnerable.

"What so funny?"

Ellie hadn't noticed you, snuck up on her as she changed with her back to the rest of the group.

Quickly she peaked over her shoulder as she continued getting undressed.

"Remember when you were offended that I didn't know you were gay?"

A warm, comforting feeling filled you as you thought back to your very first outing with Ellie.

You nodded, "Yeah! I'm still pissed about it."

Ellie chuckled, "You're dumb."

You didn't reply, merely just watched silently as one by one, Ellie's legs slipped out of the denim, leaving her in plain colored boxer briefs and an undone button down shirt while her back was still to you.

You knew better than to allow your eyes and imagination to linger too long-that was dangerous territory; a been there done that type of territory.

The group continued chatting as each of you finished changing into less dampened clothing.

"You guys going to that party tonight?"

At Jesse's words your eyebrow raised in question, until you recalled the big name popstar's birthday gathering you all had been invited to that was happening tonight. Quietly, you sighed as you finished grabbing all of your personal belongings.

"Not sure. You?"

Jesse 'pst' his lips, "Ah c'mon! You have to come. It'll be a nice way to decompress. We haven't had a night off in ages."

You couldn't disagree. It had indeed been a two week spread of shows every single night...maybe a party wouldn't hurt.

But on the other hand, you knew you dreaded any sort of social gathering that was bound to leave you overstimulated and exhausted by the end of the night.

"I don't know.."

"Babe cmon, you deserve it. I deserve it. We all deserve it! Besides, we can ditch if we're too exhausted or if it's lame or something," Dina said as she turned around, joining the rest of you and your bandmates as you all naturally gathered in the center of the changing room.

You wagered your plan of staying in the hotel in stretchy clothes with takeout in hand and a shitty movie on the tv as you snuggled into the fluffy blankets…but the looks you were getting from your bandmates pretty much prepared an answer for you.

"Fineeee," you dragged your words as Dina took the initiative of leaving as she opened the dressing room door.

"Who knows, maybe you'll get laid."

You shook your head, shoving Dina playfully on the shoulder as you followed behind her. "Shut up slut."

Ellie followed behind you, and Jesse behind her as he chuckled at the usual banter between you and Dina that continued for the entirety of the walk to the black vehicle that was ready to take your band to the party.

----

You'd been at the party for only an hour before you felt your threshold being pushed to it's farthest limit.

Dina and Jesse had been loved up on the dance floor, shouting the words of a song that was unfamiliar to you as Jesse had both of his arms around his love.

Ellie had caught your eye as she talked with other people throughout the party, always having some sort of whiskey drink in hand as she fidgeted with the small black straw she was swirling around her drink.

You knew how awful Ellie was in conversation, or rather following along with a conversation. Her thoughts always seemed to take over, making it hard for her to be fixed in on the entirety of a conversation as she, instead, resorted to zoning out or fixating herself on some sort of habit like she was right now.

With your back lent against a crisp white wall, you raised your drink to your mouth as you took a sip while still watching Ellie attempt conversation, until her eyes locked with yours.

She knew this version of you too well. The crowds, the socializing, the various amount of different noises all going on at once, none of it was ever your forte.

You quickly averted your gaze downwards into the honey colored drink in your glass, which made you oblivious to the fact that Ellie had already dismissed herself from her conversation and began making strides towards you.

"Over it already?"

Her familiar tone made your eyes glance upwards briefly before bringing them back down to your drink. You shrugged, "You know how I am at these things."

Ellie indeed knew too well. She also knew how much you resented yourself for not being able to handle a party without feeling like shit before, during, and after.

"Wanna head out? I'm kind of over this too." Ellie said as she mimicked your position of back resting against a wall with nearly empty drink in hand.

Your eyes remained low as you talked. "You don't have to leave because of me."

"I'm not," Ellie assured, "you're the one who can't do social gatherings, I'm the one whose bored of superficial small talk with people that I couldn't give less of a fuck about."

At her words, you chuckled, your neck now raising as your tipsy squinted eyes finally made contact with Ellie.

"Promise it's not because you feel sorry for me?"

Ellie's face lit up with a familiar, warm grin as she held up her pinky to swear her promise was true. "Promise."

You wore a lazy, but genuine smile as you extended your own pinky and gently hooked it around Ellie's. "Let's get the fuck out of here then."

---

The drive back to the hotel was silent except for the easy listening radio the Uber drive had been playing in the vehicle. You were thankful they were playing music that was appropriate for the 3am hour that it was. The last thing you needed was heavy bass to fuel your already slightly aching head.

Both you and Ellie made your way into the hotel once the uber had reached your home for the night. Thankfully, your manager had taken care of check in so your room key was already tucked inside the palm of your hand, leaving the only thing to do was slide your key through the appropriate suite numbers door so you could fall face first into a fluffy, white bed.

Your mind pulsed with the room number as you got closer. '208, 2010, 2011, 2012."

A literal weight seemed to fall off of your body when you mentally read the 4 digit number.

"This is me. What room did you get?"

'Fuck', Ellie thought as she did a double take on the room number that was written on her key card and the room number engraved in a gold plaque on the door you were both stopped in front of.

"Me too. Guess we’re rooming together."

Ellie didn't mean for her words to come out with a grimace expression, but you understood why the second she said it.

Annalise. You'd told her once about not wanting to room with Ellie due to your past with her and it was never a forgotten thing..I guess not until now.

It wasn't that you didn't want to hang out with Ellie. Ellie was your best friend first, ex girlfriend second. Despite the past the both of you shared, you always made it your mission to never let it interfere with one of the strongest friendships you've ever had with a person.

Not rooming together was more of a...preventative measure. You and Ellie had dated for a couple years, obviously you also slept together during that time. Keeping separate sleeping arrangements was just a way to keep certain situations less likely to happen.

Without either of you making eye contact, you slid the card in, then out of the slot in the door as a light flashed green, signaling the release of the lock.

You could feel the very dim way your hands shook as you grasped the metal knob in hand, allowing you and Ellie entry into the spacious suite that, thankfully, had two queen sized beds in it. You couldn’t imagine what would happen if the hotel somehow made a mistake and gave you a suite with a single bed; at least one thing was on yours and Ellie’s side. Though it didn’t make the situation at hand any better.

The tension was thick like a humid august day in Florida.

You and Ellie had taken to silence as you both worked on unpacking the few essentials you had on your person - thank god your team had already managed to put both yours and Ellie's luggages by each of your bedside, leaving not too much work to be done tonight unpacking wise.

Once your shoes had been tucked away in the small closet, your phone charger plugged in with your phone attached to it, and your pajama's in hand, you set off for the bathroom in the still silent hotel room.

A quick shower paired with freely brushed teeth, a clean face, and much more stretchy clothing had you feeling almost fully recovered post show and post social gathering.

As you walked out of the bathroom, you couldn't help but follow the trail of clothing that was sprawled sloppily on the floor and on top of the bed that was Ellie's for tonight.

It was like a mouse hunt as you followed along the fabric and items Ellie had no doubt shoveled out of her bag instead of putting them away neatly - typical for Ellie. She was never the cleanliest of the band members.

The humored smile remained on your face as you walked from the area in the suite that contained the beds, over to the small hallway that led to the living room area.

Ellie was sprawled along the couch with nothing but a table side lamp on as her eyes were glued to her phone while her finger moved along the screen.

Thankfully she hadn't caught wind of your entrance or else she would've seen the way you ran your eyes up from her sock clade feet all the way up to the athletic shorts and hoodie that was branded with your bands logo. She only looked up when you sunk down on the opposite side of the couch she was on.

Startled, Ellie looked up at you, looking as if she had forgotten you were even here, and for a minute she honestly did. Ellies eyes had been zoned in on the text exchange between her and her girlfriend, Cat, since the moment she flopped herself onto the couch in a living room that wasn't hers- this was somewhat of a routine she had subconsciously started doing ever since the tour began.

Your eyes naturally followed along to Ellies screen as curiosity got the best of you, but when you saw the name and photo labeled at the very top of the text exchange, you felt that same god damn feeling. That drop, that warmth, that surge of an energy that was anything but positive.

It was as if Ellie could read your mind as she followed your eye line and quickly locked her phone before setting it on the arm rest of her side of the couch.

Clearing your throat, you tried your best at creating a diversion.

"I see you're still messy as ever." Your eyes remained low as you fiddled with the hem of your sweats that sat on top of your ankle bone.

Ellie smiled, mimicking your lack of contact gaze as her vision zoned out on the grey colored couch cushion.

Her mind began to dump through memories upon memories; when you and Ellie were roommates, you were always complaining about her side of the room, which quickly morphed into the entirety of the room as the floor was filled with various clothes, personal items, etc.

You only genuinely got upset about it once- finals week, freshmen year. You were stressed, Ellie was stressed, thus ensued the first of many fights that the both of you would have over petty things.

But the both of you were grown now and surely you could have a conversation over something like that.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Ellie made the move to get up from the couch until you spoke with a waving hand.

"I'm fucking with you El. You're good," you said with a calmed smile and warm tone.

"You sure? Cause I can-"

You were nodding quickly, having to fight back a large grin and laugh at how quick Ellie was willing to get up and tidy the space. You couldn't help but interrupt her quick thoughts that you could tell were piling up a mile high in her mind.

"Ellie."

At the sound of her name, Ellie felt her thoughts fall from their whirlwind as she instead focused her attention on one thing at a time and that one thing was you.

"You're good, I promise."

It was crazy how, just at the confirmation of your words, Ellie was able to calm herself down. There weren't many people in the world who could fully put her mind at ease and allow it to stop the overthinking, but you always could. You held a sense of magic over her.

"Wanna watch a movie or something?"

Though Ellie hadn't agreed yet, the remote control was already tucked in your hand as your thumb pressed down on the appropriate buttons. As if you already knew what a routine of assisting Ellie from an anxiety come down was like, which you did.

"Yeah that sounds good." Ellie's words were straight laced as she recognized her pulse for the first time and just how rapidly it was beating.

"Do you mind if I smoke? I usually do it after shows, but since we don't room together I wasn't sure-"

"Yeah your good." You interrupted, making Ellie let out a breathy laugh as she walked over to her bag that sat on top of her bed.

"What?" You asked with confusion.

"You've interrupted me like five times already." Ellie's tone was anything but malicious which assured you that she wasn't upset with your bad habit, but that didn't make you feel any less ashamed either.

"I'm soooorry," you dragged out, the sound of rummaging in the background as Ellie grabbed her trusty tin box that contained a single pre roll and her lighter.

"You know I'm fucking with you." Ellie made her way back to the living room area as she scouted out a source for proper ventilation to ensure the smell of the potent greenery wouldn't cloud up the room or the entire floor.

Thankfully the suite was equipped with massive windows that looked as if they were from the 1920’s. Adorned with different variations of swirls and florals that made the layer of cream colored paint anything but some plain colored windowsill.

Using two of her hands, Ellie grasped the bottom of the window and pulled it upwards as far as the rusted parts would allow. As if out of some sort of rom com, Ellie took a seat on the windowsill as she flicked the lighter with her thumb until it lit a small flame.

At the noise of the lighter, you turned your attention to Ellie just as the flame caught the tip of her joint- a line of smoke streamed from the now charred stuffed rolling paper. You watched Ellie’s chest as she deeply inhaled with her eyes closed, the end of the 'j' searing red as she did so, and held the smoke in her mouth for a few seconds before releasing the breath she was purposefully holding.

Even though Ellie was used to the weed, she never failed to let out a string of coughs after a deep inhale. After her second cough, you turned your body fully around to find Ellie with her mouth tucked into the crevice of her elbow as her body tried to rid itself of the irritant in her throat.

“Water?”, you questioned, to which Ellie nodded as she continued to blow out on last cough until you were standing in front of her with your steel water bottle in hand.

The way Ellie’s mouth wrapped around the tip of the bottle made your pupils dilate as you watched her gulp down several sips of water. She muttered a “Thanks” while handing the water bottle back to you while you scolded your mind for reminiscing on exactly what Ellie’s mouth could do in certain situations.

Once her throat had been cleared enough times for the saliva in her throat to break up, she leant her back against the window frame again, relaxing as the high in her mind began to build.

“Wanna hit?”, Ellie said with hooded eyes as she looked up at your standing form.

The fact that you had to stop and ponder your answer made you cringe. You were a far off version of who you once were only a year ago. Now, you got up early in the morning and did yoga just after you made yourself a hot cup of decaf coffee because, for some god awful reason, you needed a change and that change happened to be weening yourself off of caffeine.

It was funny how well you were convincing yourself and others that you were better and striding along nicely on the path of self love and content while being by yourself. What others didn't know is that you had never felt more lonely in your life. Even after Ellie and your's breakup nearly 4 years ago, you had never felt this bottomless pit that you only had to deal with once off that stage.

Maybe thats why you felt so addicted to performing. Maybe thats why you were the only one who didn’t complain when you saw how many shoes you would be putting on this tour. It took your mind off of reality..it was your drug.

"Sure," you answered Ellie as she reached her nearly limp hand out to you with a relaxed grin on her face.

The moment the joint was held between your pointer finger & thumb, it felt instinctual, despite a year or so without the substance.

As the smoke sucked down your throat, you could already feel your head beginning to float.

"Nice, right?"

You nodded, as you passed the joint back to Ellie just before taking a sip out of your water bottle that moments ago had been pressed against Ellie's mouth. You could still taste the vague cherry chapstick flavor of her lip balm. “I haven't smoked in fucking ages."

Ellie nodded as she took another big hit that made her shoulders slump even more against the window as she delved into a state of relaxation. "This shit is the only thing that calms me down after shows now."

"Seriously?"

With a nod, Ellie's eyes scanned you as if she were searching. For what? You didn't know and neither did she, but yet she allowed her eyes to linger until she landed on your arm. "How's the tattoo healing?"

Your eyes pulled down to your arm, but not without feeling a lag in motion due to the weed in your system. The amount of at ease you felt was something you hadn't felt in years. You couldn't help but question why the fuck you stopped smoking in the first place, until you came back to that self love journey, bullshit, blah, blah, blah.

"Tattoo is good. The shading on it is soo beautiful”, you dragged along your words more than usual as you prepared for your last statement that would inevitably bring her up. "Your girl is good."

At the mention of her girlfriend, Ellie felt comfort in her smile. "Yeah, she's great”, she answered honestly.

You knew her words held double meanings-yes, Ellie's girlfriend was a great tattoo artists, but you knew her and Ellie were good for each other, at least from your view it seemed that way.

"You seeing anyone lately?"

The hairs on your arms began to raise at Ellie's question. It seemed that anytime relationships or partners, whether romantic or sexual, were brought up..it always felt awkward to you. But maybe that was because you were just being you, and Ellie was matured past the college relationship you and her shared.

Not that you weren't stuck on the relationship itself entirely. You were more so stuck on the feeling of being loved like that and loving that person in return just as much. You craved it, yet no one ever scratched that itch for you after Ellie.

"Nah..I'm good," you lied through your teeth, but Ellie saw right through your faux satisfaction.

"C'mon, it's been, what? A couples years since your last relationship?"

Ellie hadn't intentionally meant to strike that nerve when the words left her lips, yet she could tell she managed to do just that according to the look on your face.

"Fuck, 'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring that up..I forgot that your last relationship was us."

You felt the urge to spit in Ellie's face out of pure spite that was bubbling inside you even though you knew she meant zero malice with her words. Deep breaths consumed your chest as you repeated a mantra to yourself: You were the one who had the problem. Not her. You were the one who had the problem. Not her.

"Yeah...it's been awhile," You chose to ignore the subject as best you could, yet it felt so damn difficult when your last relationship was sitting right in front of you, looking beautiful as a joint hung from her lips.

Ellie breathed the smoke through her gritted teeth before snubbing the end of the joint on the brick that sat on the outside walls of the hotel just outside of the open window she was relaxed against.

"So you really don't want to see any one?"

"Can we talk about something else," you huffed out with aggravation, taking Ellie by surprise, making her eyes fill with sorrow.

"Sorry."

"Don't be...", you trailed off for a moment as you took another drink out of your water simply just to give yourself something to do that wasn't sitting in silence. "I'm just sick of people asking me about it,” you shrugged. “Sorry to get pissy with you."

Ellie nodded her head as silence built between the both of you.

The longer you both sat in silence, the higher and higher Ellie felt as her eyes began to alter her perception, her brain began to cloud her judgement, and her filter on her words grew thinner and thinner.

"Do you ever think about us?”, Ellie said with a head tilted backwards and her eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Meanwhile, your lips hesitated as they forgot how to move in time with your tongue. You were finding speaking to me exceptionally difficult when it was a question like that from a person who used to be your everything.

—-

Part 2 coming soon

#ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #ellie fic #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #afterglow #MUNA

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

Text

hold on easy - a "you know you never stood a chance" bonus

you know you never stood a chance series

bonus: hold on easy (a father's day/pride month special)

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.9k

summary: joel miller spends father's day with (most) of his girls and the whole-but-broken pieced-together family he thought he'd never have. takes place about 1.5 years after the epilogue. (aka I'm a menace who cannot let these two go 😭)

warnings: discussions of father-daughter relationships, reader discusses her father, dead dads and dead daughters, grief, passing reference to era-typical bigotry, found family, implied smut but not explicit, Joel Miller is a Good Dad, technically tlou pt. ii spoilers but not really and the angsty events of the game never happen.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You’re in the mess hall. All of you. Your whole goddamn family, minus one absentee sister and the daughter you never met, would never claim as your own, but hold a spot for in your heart regardless. But even as that heart aches for the first little girl you raised and the first little girl Joel raised, this, what you've managed to grab a hold of and keep amidst the end of the world, is still an overwhelming feeling.

You never thought you’d have this. Not in all your lifetime.

There’s no real head of the table, not in the traditional sense, but fittingly, Maria’s sat there anyway. You sit to her left across from Alé, who is thankfully not too old at five to exchange silly faces between bites. Tommy sits beside her and across from Lulu. The girls usually sit beside one another or across, but Alé’s patience with your (almost) two-year-old has worn thin for the day. Understandably.

Joel is on her other side, coaxing food into her mouth while she tries to babble at Ellie, whose patience has blessedly not worn thin, never does, even as she tries to listen to Dina, who’s trying to tell both Ellie and Jesse about her unsuccessful attempts to induce labor that morning.

It’s been a very strange thing, Father’s Day. It was last year, too, but it was all still so surreal then. But your tiny baby is now a small person, no longer a squirming, shapeless swaddle but a little girl with her daddy’s eyes and scowl.

But Father’s Day hadn’t been a day you or Joel liked to think about, not before Luna. You’d never talked about it, no siree, not when it was a veritable landmine of trauma and easily ignorable in the apocalypse, where days and months slurred together like watercolors oozing from a dirty brush.

And now, somehow, you’re here. With people who understand your loss, a comfort swallowed down with a grimace like the crude liquor shared with Maria when you take a sharp moment to remember your fathers—a grief your flesh and blood sister had never understood, not really, having been too young when he passed.

And with this man, who has a little girl calling him daddy again, and a not-so-little girl who says “Joel” in the same fond way. And maybe he never wanted this. Never wanted his heart pried forcibly open by this swarm of incessant people who inexplicably took one look at him and saw down to his bones.

He thought he should feel worse today. That he should hurt the way he did last year, the way he had for twenty-odd years. For her. For the betrayal of loving another daughter—no, worse—daughters, like he was a greedy man unsatisfied with his first. Like he was scavenging still, out in the wilderness, tricking these nice folks into thinking he was more than a fraud and taking more than his fair share.

But he doesn’t. Something in the last year has settled in his chest. Luna grew sturdier and Ellie started to shed the flight instinct, swapping it for one of his old coats, and finding ground to hold. He must have done the same, since you look at him less and less these days like something you need to commit to memory.

And he thinks less and less these days about how Sarah would resent him for his new life when she would never have one and more about how much she would have adored her sisters. About how many more gray hairs he’d have if she and Ellie had met.

How she’d have goaded Tommy into helping her tease him to death for being “over the hill” with a baby.

So in the span of six years, you went from having no one to having a husband (the novelty hasn’t worn off yet, even if it feels a little silly), a brother and sister, a niece, a baby (shut up, she’s still one for another couple of weeks), an adult daughter, said adult daughter’s pregnant not-girlfriend, and the not-girlfriend’s baby daddy.

Suffice to say there are no more quiet days and no more empty apartments. Your home (a real home, with photographs and furniture and laughter) is full, your stomach is full, your heart is full. You feel complete and it’s even better knowing they all do, too.

At least, you thought so.

Everyone’s finished, just a few stragglers chasing peas around their plates to avoid putting their dishes away, when you catch the tail end of Dina’s story and the look on Ellie’s face. You start a countdown in your head for them to produce flimsy excuses to leave and only make it to three when Dina mutters something about her aching back and darts out of the hall to the quiet streets.

You start over and only make it to six before Ellie stands up. She’s less subtle.

“So,” she says loudly, staring at the other end of the table where you and Joel are sitting with a shit-eating grin. “We’ve all been talking, and we think there should be another kid to round out the group. Tommy’s going to watch Luna tonight, and I’ll sleep over at Dina’s so you guys can make me another sister, okay?”

Tommy groans and puts his hands in the air. “We have not been talking,” he protests while Joel splutters.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he says.

You bury your face in your hands for a moment before shooting a look at Tommy, who’s busy pleading his case to Joel’s deaf ear.

Joel’s starting in on Ellie, now, knowing she’s the true ringleader here. “I am 61 years-"

“Sixty-two,” you interject.

“I am 62 years old,” he tries again. “I ain’t havin’ any more kids.” He pauses and turns to you. “Right?”

“Right,” you say definitively, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

“Right,” Joel affirms, turning back to Ellie. “You want a baby so bad, you have one.”

“A grandpa with a toddler,” Tommy mutters, only for Joel to actually hear him this time and round in on him about conspiring.

Ellie is saved from Joel seeing how pink she’s gone in the face when he goes off on Tommy, and ducks out of the mess hall.

You don’t bring it up, but Joel does, on your short walk home. Tommy and Maria really had offered to take Luna for the night, and while you both loved your daughter dearly, you were also still, well, you.

And technically still newlyweds, even if neither of you put any stock in it. You had only agreed to the whole ordeal for the kids’ sakes anyway (and to shut Tommy up, which you’re realizing now is a good percentage of the reasons behind many things you reluctantly do). What did a bootleg marriage license from a fake local government matter at the end of the world?

But it was as good of an excuse as any to go home and fuck until you fell asleep by nine like proper old geezers, as Ellie put it.

“What the hell was she thinkin’?” Joel grumbled.

“She was thinkin’,” you copy his accent, “that it was a good distraction from her going to ‘help Dina induce labor.’”

His brow furrows, confused to the point of ignoring your mockery. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say with a sigh. “I’ve been tellin’ her to get that girl locked down before she pops so we can have a grandbaby.”

Joel stops in the middle of the street. “What’re you on about?”

You stop and turn slowly on your heel. “Oh, Joel.”

“Don’t you ‘oh, Joel,’ me,” he grumbles. “Jus’ tell me whatever it is.”

“You… you know they’re sleeping together, right?”

“They’re having a sleepover, yeah,” he says, but you can tell he knows he’s got it wrong. “That’s what she’s been saying.”

He’s not a stupid man. He feels like one, but you know he isn’t. He’s just a straightforward kind of man who takes people at face value. So when Ellie said she was sleeping over at Dina’s, that’s all he heard.

“Not that kind of sleepover, huh,” he says.

The look on his face makes your stomach drop. “No, yeah, I thought the same thing,” you lie. “But they’re sort of dating. Maybe not officially.”

Joel scowls at the placation. “Don’t.”

You rub a hand over the back of his shoulders. “Sorry.”

He starts walking again, tugging your hand from his back to entwine with his own. “Does she…” he sighs, closing his eyes just long enough to betray the hurt behind them. “Does she think I’d be… weird about it?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “You are a Texan from the 1900s.”

He looks at you, mouth agape. “Don’t word it like that. The hell is wrong with you? The 1900s…”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “It’s true,” you tease.

“Shut it. I feel old enough already tonight.” He sighs and shakes his head. “You’re 'from the 1900s,' too. Why wasn’t she worried you’d be like that?”

“Well, probably because I told her about my first girlfriend apropos of nothing to try to get her to fess up.”

He stops again. His mouth opens and closes once, twice. “You never told me that. Did you think I’d be an asshole about it, too?”

“No. It just never occurred to me to tell you.” You feel guilty about it, now, but the truth is, you really haven’t talked about much from before. Neither of you have.

He scowls again but starts walking, still holding your hand.

“Joel,” you say quietly. "I am sorry. I didn’t think you were a homophobe or anything; I just… you know. I had one girlfriend and then one boyfriend, and then my dad passed, and, well, you know what happened after that, at least.”

He grimaces. “Yeah, I get it.” He thinks for a few minutes. “So you got her to talk because you had that to go on. How the hell am I supposed to make her feel like she can talk to me?”

You hum and think, falling into silence beside each other on the way home.

It’s not until you’re fucked out and falling asleep that you have the idea.

“You gotta give her the talk,” you say abruptly, rising up on your elbows and accidentally jabbing him in the gut.

“Wha?” he grunts sleepily, and you take a moment to admire how soft his eyes are when he’s like this.

You run a thumb over his beard, watching him get with the program. “You have to give her the talk. You know. The talk.”

“She’s nineteen. I ain’t givin’ her the talk. Reckon’ she already knows.”

“No, Joel, listen! I never came out to my dad, right? He just suspected. So he sat me down and he said ‘you may not be able to get pregnant but you can still get STDs.’ and that was that.”

He sits up a little, propping his head up on a folded arm, elbow sinking into the ancient mattress. “That easy, huh?”

“Yeah. Well, until I brought a boy home, and he had to give me the talk a second time. He didn’t quite get it, y’know, liking both, but he tried.”

Joel snorts and thinks for a minute. “You really think that’ll work?”

“She’ll be so mortified you’re talking to her about sex that she won’t even realize until it’s over. And,” you pause, having to wrestle with the way the grief feels almost fresh after so many decades buried deep, “I don’t know what she’ll feel, but I’ll tell you what. I never felt so understood until then. You know? Like… there had still been a little part of me scared that he wouldn’t love me the same. But he made it so normal.”

In the warm June twilight, tucked under the covers, Joel smiles.

“I gave Sarah the talk,” he says quietly.

“Yeah?” you prompt with a soft smile of your own. These moments are rare but less so with each passing year. Just the other day, you came home to find him on the floor with Luna, rolling a soccer ball back and forth, his gentle voice spinning a story of her sister from way back when.

“It was awful,” he admits. “I didn’t know what the hell I was doin’. I fumbled it so bad, and she didn’t look me in the eye for two days.”

You laugh. “I think that’s just how it goes.”

“I’ve never said penis that many times in a ten-minute period, and I forgot what the fallopian tubes were called. She had to correct me.”

You can’t help but laugh harder. “Sorry, I just—that’s so fuckin’ embarrassing.”

“Shut up,” he says, shoving your shoulder before wrapping his arm back around to draw you in. “Like you’d do any better.”

“I guess we’ll see,” you say, but fall quiet. There’s an ever-present shadow, being older parents. Even before the apocalypse, the chances of seeing your little girl grow up would have been slim. But now?

Joel picks up on your train of thought and nuzzles his beard against your neck, laying scratchy kisses down his path. “Stop it. You’re going to live to be an old crone and embarrass our girls for a long, long time,” he murmurs.

“And your stubborn old ass will be right beside me.”

“You’re goddamn right I will.”

Your lie-in is disturbed not by the dry heat rolling through the open window but by the cacophony of voices from down the stairs. Lazily wrapping up in a robe made from an old blanket, you wander down to find Joel and Ellie both red in the face and not looking at one another.

Ellie is staring up at the ceiling while Joel has two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. She looks up first when the landing squeaks.

“Oh good, someone sane,” she says. “Please explain fourth-grade anatomy to him. Please. Spare me.”

Joel groans and scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t need a fuckin’ biology lesson—“

Ellie ignores him. “He’s all—“ she puts her hands on her hips and drops her voice into a deeper drawl, “‘You need to be responsible, Ellie,’ and ‘A child is a major commitment, Ellie.’” She drops her arms dramatically to her sides. “I didn’t get her pregnant!”

“I know you damn well didn’t—“ Joel tries, but he’s growing too flustered.

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh.

“I only came over to tell you that Dina’s in labor,” Ellie groans. “I’m going back. I’ll let you know when the baby is here.” And she bolts before Joel can make another attempt.

You take his wrist gently, prying his hand from his face to uncover the flush in full bloom. Unfortunately, you can’t hold your laughter any better than you can hold your tongue, and he shoves you away with no real force or malice.

“Where’d you go wrong?”

Joel groans and sinks onto the sofa. “Right from the start,” he grumbles.

“Poor baby,” you tease with a pout. “Well, at least she knows you know, now.”

“Shut up,” he grunts. He tugs you down onto his lap, letting you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Now that he’s growing it out, it curls at the ends, and he’s more than content to let you toy with it.

“I’m not doin’ it next time. I’m ‘oh’ for two.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s tradition now. Those girls will bond over the mortifying ordeal that was the sex talk with Joel Miller.”

His exasperation comes in the twist of his lips and heavy brows plus a light, scolding pinch to your ticklish side. You swat at his shoulder with the same levity, and laugh.

“Don’t worry, honey,” you croon. “I know you know what sex is.”

He rolls his eyes.

“On second thought, maybe you don’t. Maybe I’m starting to doubt you…”

His eyebrow twitches, and so does his cock. “Oh yeah?” He rumbles, the sharp predatory glint back in his eye. “Maybe I gotta show you, then.”

“Maybe you do,” you whisper. “Maybe you should prove it.”

By the time Tommy comes around to drop off Luna and tell you about baby JJ’s arrival, Joel’s proven himself several times over. Enough so that Tommy wrinkles his nose when he comes into the house, Luna on his hip.

“Open a goddamn window,” he gripes.

“Watch your fuckin’ language around her,” Joel snipes back, but they’re both grinning.

“Hang on,” you say with a frown. “You said the baby’s name is JJ?”

“Yep,” Tommy crows. “And based on how everyone over there was acting, I think y’all might be grandparents.”

Joel’s distracted by the implication, but you don’t let up.

“No, Tommy, hold on, you can’t keep giving other people’s kids new names. First Lulu and now JJ?”

He suddenly looks smug, a grin breaking across his face and a wink. “They called him JJ, not me. But I’ll let them tell you what it stands for.”

Later that night, when Ellie confesses the seriousness of her relationship, she buffers the news that she’s moving in with Dina by handing the little bundle over.

And her scheme works. When she looks you both in the eye to say, “Meet Jesse Joel,” your husband weeps.

“Happy belated Father’s Day, or whatever,” she mumbles, shifting her weight back and forth as she struggles with the burden of his emotional display.

“You little shit,” he grunts, undermined by tears and a baffled smile, and she grins.

*title from "my little girl" by Tim McGraw ("gotta hold on easy as I let you go")

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #tlou fic #fic: you know you never stood a chance

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Blue Sunday

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: I love a big happy family <3

Summary: “You are here to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart.” - Louise Erdrich aka Ellie calls you mom for the first time

Warnings: fluff, time jump (Charlie is 5, Ellie is 21, and JJ is 2), talk of deceased loved ones (Anna, Sarah, Jane), Charlie being curious, Ellie being a good mom, Jesse’s alive!!

"Bellie, I have a question," Charlie announces from her place next to Ellie at the dinner table. Joel smiles at the nickname and leans forward to watch his girls interact.

"I have an answer," Ellie says.

"Why do you call mommy and daddy by their grown-up names?" She asks, and the table freezes. You knew this question would come up eventually, but you didn't think it would hit you as a rapid-fire question from your five-year-old.

"You know how sometimes we talk about how you lived in my belly, and JJ lived in Auntie Dina's belly? Well, Ellie didn't live in my belly. She lived in someone else's belly." You explain. Charlie nods as she listens and looks between you and Ellie.

"Who?"

"A very nice lady named Anna."

"Anna," Charlie tries the name on her tongue. "Anna is Ellie's mama?"

"Yep."

"Why doesn't Anna live with us?" She asks, her eyes full of curiosity. You look to Ellie, unsure of how much of her story you're allowed to tell. Ellie puts her fork down and folds her hands together.

"Do you remember how we talked about Sarah and Jane?" Ellie asks, and Charlie nods. "Do you remember how we talked about the tattoo Cat did for me?" Again, Charlie nods, before reaching out to trace the ink on Ellie’s forearm with her little fingers. "Well, my mommy got hurt in the same way I got hurt when I was little, but my mommy got really sick, and she died."

"That's sad." Charlie frowns.

"It is, but she made sure I was safe. When I got hurt, your mommy and daddy found me and brought me all the way here to Jackson to get medicine. Then, they got married, and then they had…" Ellie trails off and points to Charlie for dramatic effect.

"Me!" Charlie yells, and she laughs.

"Yeah, that's right. So, even though my mommy died, I was okay."

"Because my mommy and daddy were your mommy and daddy for a little bit?" She asks, and Ellie takes a deep breath, looking at you and Joel.

"Yeah. Yeah, they were. That's why we're sisters."

"Do you remember…" Charlie trails off, scowling as she searches her brain.

"Anna?" Joel supplies, and Charlie lights up.

"Yeah! Anna! Do you remember your Anna mommy?" She asks, crawling into Ellie's lap to play with her bracelets. Ellie takes it in stride, tucking Charlie's hair behind her ears.

"No, I don't remember my Anna mommy, but I know she was funny and kind and a badass just like me," Ellie says. You don't have the heart to correct her swearing, especially in such a sweet moment with Charlie. You just sit and watch.

"So, you call mommy and daddy by their grown-up names because you have an Anna mommy in Heaven just like I have Sarah and Jane sissies in Heaven?"

"Mhm."

"Does your Anna mommy take care of my Sarah and Jane sissies?"

"I hope so." Ellie hums as she wipes crumbs from Charlie’s shirt.

"Oh," Charlie says. "When are Auntie Dina and Uncle Jesse gonna come over with JJ?" She transitions seamlessly, and you laugh. The mind of a five-year-old will forever be an elusive one. You get through the rest of your family dinner without a hitch, although you have to admit that you miss Dina, Jesse, and JJ, too.

It's hard to get everyone together, especially with Ellie splitting her time between her own little family and us. Every Friday, the motley crew of parents switches off where they go for dinner. Some Fridays, JJ, Dina, Ellie, and Jesse go to Dina's mom's house. Some Fridays, they all go to Jesse's parent's house before finally coming to yours and Joel's. It's pretty complicated, but they have a system. The other three couldn't come this time because Jesse unexpectedly got assigned a patrol shift, JJ got the flu, and Dina didn't want to risk giving it to Charlie. But Charlie practically begged to see her sister, so she made the solo journey out.

Once you're done with dinner, Joel gets Charlie ready for bed while you and Ellie do the dishes together. You didn't ask her to, nor do you expect her to when she comes over, but she always takes a place next to you at the sink. She tells you about JJ's birthday party coming up and how difficult it's been trying to find a time that fits all sides of the family. You tell her about how Charlie's doing at school and how she's taken a particular interest in music, one you're sure was influenced by Ellie and Joel.

"I'm sorry for what Charlie asked about at dinner. I had no idea." You say as you walk with Ellie towards the front door once the dishes are all dry and put away. She waves you off.

"No, it's okay. She's smart. I didn't realize how much she understood," she says, and you nod, tucking your hands into your back pockets. "She has a point, though."

"About what?"

"Maybe… I should start calling you and Joel my parents. At least until she's old enough to know the whole story. Same thing with JJ. I mean, he already asks for Grandpa Joel." She explains hesitantly, wringing her hands as she talks. You smile at the nervous habit and take a deep breath, processing her request.

"I'd really like that," you say, and she smiles back. "But do I have to be Grandma? I mean, I'm old but not that old."

"No. I'm sure Jay will come up with a cool, non-old name for you. Plus, he's already got Dina and Jesse's moms," she says, furrowing her eyebrows as she thinks. "And two moms and a dad. And an aunt that's really not that much older than him. Oh, god," she scrubs a hand down her face, and you laugh. "I'm going to have to explain so much to him."

"Welcome to the club," you grab her jacket off the hook and hand it to her. "You're a really good mom. I hope you know." You say, and Ellie blushes as she pulls the jacket over her shoulders.

"I've learned from the best." She says, and your heart feels like it could burst. You pull her close and hug her tightly like you always do when she gets ready to leave. You never thought you'd miss the days when she was just down the hallway, playing guitar loudly or gossiping with Dina in the late hours of the night. You kiss her temple and squeeze her.

"I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too, Mom."

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel tlou #ellie williams #look for the light #tlou fluff #the last of us fluff

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soda-gremlin · 2 months

Text

The Newer Thea Sisters Books Aren’t as Good as the Older Ones, and Here’s Why

Yes yes, I know I am beating a dead horse here, but I have noticed quite a few patterns when it comes to the newer books, specifically why I don’t like them. So here is my comprehensive list of traits that make the newer books so lackluster.

1. No Continuity

And no, I am not simply referring to small details, like the name of a celebrity that has already been established. What I am referring to, is both the lack of reference to previous books even when relevant, and the complete absence of background knowledge. Let me explain.

So, y’all have read Mystery on the Orient Express, right? If you haven’t, major spoilers ahead. The villains turn out to be a set of identical twins, Dimitri and Leon. But first, before discovering that fact, the Thea Sisters had to tangle with the conundrum of Dimitri’s hand, and why the burn kept disappearing and reappearing. It took them quite a bit of time to work that out because, well, they’d never seen that before. And they’re still new to mystery-solving.

However, in a later book, (spoilers for Phantom of the Orchestra) they are confused by a character named John’s seemingly contradictory behavior, like greeting them like old friends one minute, and acting like they never met the next minute. But here’s the thing. They’ve seen this before, in Mystery of the Orient Express. That shouldn’t have been a huge twist. They shouldn’t have taken that long to figure that out, because they’ve seen it before.

Need another example? So, a common trope in the newer books is that one of the side characters aiding them mysteriously goes missing. Then it turns out, they were kidnapped/led away. It happens almost every single time. Riddle of the Ruins, Niagara Splash, you get the idea. But every single time, the girls dick around like, “Oh no, I wonder where John Doe could have POSSIBLY went” GIRLIEPOPS. THIS AINT YOUR FIRST RODEO. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS.

I get it, they want the series to be episodic and all that, but when it’s actively hurting the story’s writing, and when quite a few readers have read previous books, it ends up detrimental instead of convenient.

2. The Forgettable Side Characters

Have any of you read the Mouseford series, or the graphic novels? If you have, you’re probably familiar with Vanilla (Ruby), Vic (Ryder), Shen, Craig, Tanya (Tanja), and Dina (Elly). All pretty well-established side characters, some even making an appearance in the beginning of the original series’ books.

Clearly, they have a very diverse cast of side characters in their roster. Shen being a sweet, bookish nerd, Craig being a himbo jock, Vic being a chaotic neutral rich boy, Vanilla being your average spoiled rich girl, you get the idea.

So I bet they bring one along on the girls’ adventures to spice up the story, right? Bringing in a fresh new perspective on the story’s events and a refreshing deviation in recurring character dynamics, while also expanding on the side characters themselves. Right?

WRONG

Instead, they make up a character to use as a plot device. I hesitate to even call them characters, because they have no personality. They’re all the same cookie cutter cardboard cutouts again and again. Especially the new male characters.

Can you tell me a SINGLE unique trait about Didier, Ioannis, Mateo, or Akhun?

Can you even tell me which books they’re from?

Of course you can’t! You probably don’t even remember they existed! (Unless they’re your blorbo, in that case, you have my sympathies…)

So instead of using the more interesting and established side characters from Mouseford, they just stick in a plot device of a character and call it a day.

In the older books, the new characters were memorable. Take Ashvin for example, aka, the only character’s name in this category I didn’t have to look up. He had an actual character. He was impulsive, reckless, but had a strong moral code. Contrast that to the new books’ Forgettable Twink #12.

3. Less Emphasis on Culture

This section will be shorter, due to me not really being any of these cultures, and being American, but I still think it’s worth covering.

The idea of the Thea Sisters exploring new countries and cultures is not new. I’d wager that’s the very purpose of the books, to expand the worldviews of impressionable children.

However, in the newer books, it feels a lot more shallow. As in, “a leaflet you got at an airport” shallow. They just barely scrape the surface, and call it a day. Only covering well known foods and internationally known traditions/practices. It’s like if Cherry Blossom Adventure only had the Thea Sisters eating sushi and learning about ninjas or origami. It does that country a massive disservice, especially if you’re native, or even if you’ve just lived there.

This is due to the newer books having the girls see the country through the eyes of a tourist rather than getting immersed in the life of a local.

Take Mountain of Fire for example, they are thrust headfirst into Nicky’s home country. They’re not put up in a hotel in the touristy part of the country, they’re in Nicky’s ranch, experiencing the wildlife, as well as what it’s like to live so far from the city. They see the natural wonders of Australia, as well as learning from the Aboriginal peoples living around the area, including Nicky’s family.

4. Boring Conflict

This one is pretty straightforward. The conflicts in the newer books feel so boring, almost sanitized in a way. There are no real stakes. In the older books, there were many consequences laid out if the villain succeeded. An important link to a dying art would have been lost, the livelihood of Pam’s family business would have been compromised, and not to mention, PEOPLE COULD HAVE DIED.

But now it’s like, “Oh nooo, a single piece from a model is missing, and it’s gonna lose the contest, whatever shall we do 🥺🥺 It’s not like we can recreate it or anything”

There is nothing compelling about the conflicts or its villains. We have no reason to be at the edge of our seats like with Mystery of the Orient Express, where Pam and Nicky LITERALLY CLIMB ON TOP OF A TRAIN TO CATCH THE THIEF BEFORE HE CAN GET AWAY

But now it just feels like a fetch quest of clues, and a wild goose chase for good measure. And just lot of fapping about in general.

I also have to bring up villains. They’re having the same issue as the side characters. They’re all the same greedy, shifty characters that are so obviously up to something.

Final Thoughts

I think all of these flaws can basically boil down to the fact that every book feels like the same story, over and over again, just with different names. (There are some exceptions, but my point still stands)

And just one more note I have is that, I wish the Thea Sisters got more personality to them. Like, I wish they acted like an actual friend group, not like how kids shows love portraying friend groups. Which is a group of girls all nice to each other all the damn time. There’s no depth, there’s no added dynamics that make the friend group feel real. The dialogue is all so flat. I need banter, I need inside jokes, I need playful jabs at one another, I need each sister having a different relationship with one another. We don’t want perfect, we want interesting. (But this isn’t exclusively a newer book issue, so I didn’t put it in the main list)

Aaaannndddd that’s about all I’ve got for you today! Hope you enjoyed this little rant/analysis!!

#geronimo stilton #thea sisters #soda’s ramblings #god how many words even is this

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cassymblr · 2 months

Text

finally got around to watching the livestream

things i'm noticing:

the designers corpsing over their own sexual roleplay box/outfits. unable to stay serious at all, which is probably good

EYELASHES and an eyelashes category, with a new texture space so they don't interfere with glasses or rings - bg update

a COPY ALL ACCESSORIES BUTTON or copy to only specific categories - bg update

gender-inclusive household member titles (e.g. spouse instead of husband/wife), except they didn't change "sister/brother" to "sibling", which is a big oversight for nonbinary sims - bg update

jealousy tag for romantic boundaries, worked with a specialist to create the boundaries, and they can changed their boundaries in-game via dialogue - bg update

can autonomously choose to break up or divorce

aspiration for polyamorous relationships

"totos" aka turn ons and turn offs, and there's actually 6 types in total; shallow and non-shallow

mexican cc builders made the builds

a mexican mural artist made the art on the walls

3 new recipes including mexican hot chocolate

curved pools - bg update

new relationship category in conversations - (maybe bg update?)

sims are very honest when they tell you you're very unattractive to them

the devs literally hate this dude they made and they're trying so hard not to say so. to be fair, he does suck lmfao. "he's sad, but we don't care, because he's diego. we hate diego in this house." ok nope we said it lmfao

"romance style" seems to be their words for "love language"; e.g. gift giving

the devs kicked this awful dude out and deliberately didn't give him any money XD

a "new motel"...i think you mean the ONLY motel???

bella and mortimer having a cute date

"scan the room" with the romance skill allows you to see hot people who fit your attraction preferences

dina caliente came to a LOT of blind dates which ALL failed

you don't appear to be able to lie on the dating profile

dating profile images are based on your photography skill

you can save 15 sims in your dating profile or add them to your contacts

activities for your dates can involve other packs

relationships are now difficult

"we wanted to eliminate the 'high fiving your way to marriage'"

they cheated her sadness away with ui cheats

new interactions in romance

date actions to extend date or change venue

i will say this livestream could NOT have been an email

unlike previous ones we will not name 👀👀

#the sims 4 developer stream commentary

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hausofmamadas · 2 years

Text

| Always short to the gate |

⁂

Pairing: David Barrón & Enedina Arellano Félix

For my df, dear friend, and fellow writer @purplesong1028 - Candyhearts Exchange 2023

Word count: ≈ 7.8K

TWs: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence

✷Disclaimer - This is an AU version of Barron, to the point that mans is essentially my OC. So, for purposes of morality/sanity/all that is holy, we disregard Nmx - S3, ep8, Last Dance. For more details, refer -> here. On a similar note: if I have to say “not condoning/glorifying the real people” aka “I don’t sanction the real-life actions of drug cartels,” I implore thee, look where you are. You’re in the wrong place. Best take that elsewhere porque no hay bronca, for civility's sake, we will not be going there✷

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done? David Barron is in love. He's in love and he does care who knows it. Particularly, if the brutal, savage cartel-boss brothers of the woman he loves, Enedina Arellano Felix, know it. But what’s he to do when he's taken by another powerful cartel leader, in retaliation for Dina's secret side-project moving coke across the Tijuana/San Ysidro border with fellow drug baroness, Isabella Bautista? In the face of a potentially more imminent death para su rayo de luna, can Dina afford to keep both him, and the business she built from the ground up, a secret?

⁂

So, this is it. I finally made it. Staring at the crowd, all the bigwigs laughing and clinking their champagne flutes, and now that I’m here, I can’t figure what all the fuss was about. Because in my whole damn life, I’ve never been to a party like this. Frankly, I’d sooner hit up a barbecue at Chato’s grandma’s trailer or a tailgate in Chicano Park, than show up willingly to a place like this.

The guest list is a family tree of Sinaloan-born narcos and an obnoxious who’s-who of Mexico City elites. Men come down from the ivory tower to grace all the thieves and plebes. Fat cats in pressed gray suits. Although, the champagne-glass pyramid is pretty cool. And somehow, this isn’t even as lavish as last year? At least according to Ramón. When we arrive, he explains that there was still all of well ... everything. But last year kicked off harder because Güero and Co rolled through with a life-size train and a tiger in a gilded cage. A fucking tiger.

“Pendejos only did it to kiss Miguel’s ass, que sean tan mamónes,” he growls, shooting a dead-eyed stare at Chapo across the lawn.

I laugh into the highball glass I’m sipping from. I don’t normally drink at events like this, and on the off chance I do, always a Corona with a lime ‘cause it reminds me of home. But thank you, no. I would not like to keep my tab open.

Except this time, the over-interested hostess practically forces a drink on me when we get there. No clue who she is either, except she must’ve been a high-roller herself or at least married to one, based on the obscene dress she’s wearing. Fuck if I know a thing about designer shit, but I can spot the difference between black-tie and fuck-you money. And I’m not in the habit of saying “no” to fuck-you money. Even if she is smiling and touching my shoulder too much.

My eyes wander, looking for Dina, brooding an invisible SOS into the night air, hoping she might swoop in and save me, but she’s nowhere in sight. Neither is Mín. I smack Ramón in the chest with the back of my hand. “Oye, dónde está tu hermana?” <'Hey, where is your sister?'>

He shakes his head.

The fuck did she go? The only reason I’m even at this glorified peacock-fest, and— oh wow, yeah, there are actual peacocks wandering around on the lawn by the lake. No tigers, but of course the night isn’t complete without some form of exploited wildlife. No, the only reason I’m here is because she asked me. Or rather, because of what came out when she asked me.

✺

Dina sat on Mín’s desk, legs dangled over the side, smoking a cigarette like always, and eyeing me slyly from across the room as I buttoned my shirt back up.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you?” I asked, readjusting my collar.

“What?”

“That it’s rude to stare.”

She threw her head back, laughing.

“Yeah, they must’ve had some lesson at whatever charm school you probably went to.”

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, “Charm school? No me digas esas shingaderas, hombre. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.” <Charm school? Don't give me that bullshit, man. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.>

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, “Ah, tu lo sabes? Tienes razón. <Ah, you know what? You're right.> Because the working-class shit I’ve heard outta your mouth?” and shook my head. “They wouldn’t have let you in the building.”

She snapped her fingers. “Sí, David. Now he’s getting it.”

“Well, then that would explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why you don’t know it’s rude to stare at someone like that.”

Her voice shot up half an octave into the range of feigned innocence. “Like what?”

“Like they’re dessert.”

“Es solo porque eres tan dulce. <It's just because you're so sweet.> Maybe I just can’t get enough. Maybe I have no choice.”

I looked up at her, smiling wide, all love-struck-stupid ‘cause I couldn’t help myself. “‘Can’t get enough,’ like you didn’t just get a three course meal.”

She kicked her heels against the desk, then hopped off and strolled over. I made a face when she flicked her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “Your brother’s gonna hate that.”

“Ya lo sé, y no me importa ni una mierda.” <Oh, I know and I don't give a shit.>

“Oh, sí? Pues lo haría tampoco <Oh, yeah? Well, I wouldn't either> pero the second he sees it, he’ll think I did it.”

Voice dropping just above a whisper, she came closer, “If he does, he can take it up with me,” and slid her hands under my shirt. “It’s as much mine as it is his. Maybe more even.”

They felt cold through the thin, ribbed fabric of my undershirt, gliding around my waist, creeping around to brush my lower back with her fingertips. At first, I thought she was going for my pant pockets, until her thumb hooked around the handle of the gun in my waistband. It startled me in spite of myself.

She smirked, practically presenting it, barrel pointed up at the ceiling. “Sorry, were you gonna need this? Or can we remove the ‘fire’ hazard.”

Taking the gun and grumbling, “You know there’s a safety, right,” I leaned over and set it on the filing cabinet against the wall.

When I turned my attention back to her, she tightened her grip around my waist suddenly and backed me up against the door. She tried bracing with her other arm so I wouldn’t fall back too hard. It didn’t work. A second thud, my head smacking the door, followed the first of it slamming shut. Still, the though that counts, right? My pained smile complemented a look of amused pity on her face.

Laughing, she winced and mouthed, “Shit, sorry!”

“So, this is how you treat your employee—“ she cut me off with a few well-timed, remorseful kisses.

She pulled back breathlessly, grinning, almost electrified. “Yeah, why do you think I took your gun away?”

“Mmm, yeah, would’ve been a hazard.”

“That, yes. But mostly I didn’t want you to feel like you were on the clock,” she murmured against my mouth, “this isn’t meant to be company time,” then caught my lower lip gently with her teeth.

I sucked in a harsh breath, not a chance in hell of suppressing the feral rumble already escaping the back of my throat.

It might’ve been fine. I might’ve been able to tear myself away, because we’d already been there too long, nevermind it was never long enough.

Until her lashes brushed my cheek and I heard, “Ah, how I love to hear you, guapo.”

My heart bottomed out in my stomach. I got ahold of the collar of her jacket on both sides. Rocking her back, easy and gentle, I slid it slow off her shoulders. Goosebumps followed the path of my fingertips across her neck, collarbones, down the backs of her arms. The metal buttons clinked against the floor. A bell announcing another round.

And all of a sudden, I couldn’t get at her fast enough.

I swept my arm around her waist, hand sliding into the curve of the small of her back, the other palming the spot between her shoulder blades to flatten her against me. If I could just bring her close enough for us to melt together and into the wood grain of the door, the better to freebase the air she breathed, the smell of her hair, the blood rushing to her face.

How many nights had I spent awake, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling of my cell, dreaming of moments like this. I’d lost count a long time ago. And okay, maybe not exactly like this. The feeling. The wholeness to it. But not the details. Like I never could’ve predicted the boxy radio with the giant antenna that played from its sketchy spot on the window ledge, too close to the edge; day in and day out while we worked. Or the way the sun lit the dust in the air like the office was an attic in an old house that wasn’t ours. And Dina, all nimble fingers now, working my belt buckle. No way I could’ve dreamt her up. She was too complete for that.

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done?

Suddenly self-aware, I wondered what it’d be like if just now, she could feel that inferno of memories at the tip of my tongue, burning through my lips to hers. If she could learn, inhaling every breath I took, things I’d share without saying a word. I wished she could. Maybe that’s why her kisses were so urgent now. Sharp, demanding, like she couldn’t get close enough. Like she’d occupy the exact same space if she could.

Don’t hide. Let me in. Anything. Tell me anything.

She was funny like that. Didn’t even know how far she’d gotten. So much further than most.

Lips still locked to mine like cross examining a witness, her hands grazed my jaw, my neck, practically mauling the collar of my shirt to get the buttons undone. I should’ve known not to bother earlier. This was the way it went with us. Part of the ritual, pretending we were done. Getting ready to leave, all raw nerves in the afterglow. Anxious awareness, never far behind not-near-enough satisfied. Because no matter how careful we were, there was a chance we’d be caught all the same. But we were never ready. Not really. So, we’d stall enough to justify starting up again. Living in each other as much as we could. Wringing out every last drop to bottle it up, a fail-safe supply for later. Another bump, another hit to tide us over. ‘Til next time. If we got one.

She’d only made it two buttons down when we both froze. A crashing sound, loud echoes of metallic clanging. Fuck. Someone on the main floor. We repelled to opposite sides of the room before we could think long enough to be disappointed.

I fixed my shirt, then grabbed Dina’s jacket from the floor and tossed it to her. “You said no one was supposed to be here till tonight?”

She caught it, draping it over one arm so she could get her cigarette holder out of one of the pockets. Trying her level best to look composed, she took one out and lit up. But I could see the tells; beads of sweat on her forehead; that too-quick rise and fall of her chest.

Eyes wide, she shrugged, at a loss. “They’re not. Pancho’s with Món at the racetrack. Apparently betting against some new horse Güero and Chapo brought up from Mazatlán. Mín’s taking Ruth to one of her appointments.”

I walked to the window and looked out onto the main floor. It was easy to make out a head of black hair bobbing just beyond the giant, industrial-sized forklift, partially blocking my view. My eyes followed it along the top of the forklift’s arm until Nestor came out from behind it, puttering around and practically strangled by a few long chains from one of the trucks. He swore, dropping them again. Poor guy. The links jittering against the cement floor filled the warehouse with what sounded like twisted, metallic laughter. Mocking him. Us.

“Who is it?” She asked it like she wasn’t looking out the same window.

Without a word, I turned and walked back toward the door. She followed, “Pinshe Nestor, este wey <Nestor, this fuckin' guy>,” waving her hand dismissively at the window.

I couldn’t resist. “Mmm right? Fuck that guy. Yea, go yell at him, chew him out, tell him why you’re annoyed.”

She narrowed her eyes but in that way she did when she was stifling a smile. When she knew I was right.

“You know, it didn’t occur to me until this moment.” Sighing and cupping my chin gently, she turned my face from side-to-side to examine it. “But I think I just realized why you’re so quiet.”

My eyebrow shot up, not a clue where she was going with this.

“It’s this smart mouth of yours,” she mused, grazing my lip with her thumb, “gotten you into too much trouble.”

I brought her hand from my cheek to my lips and hummed into her palm, “Mm, mhmm,” before nibbling a few besitos across. “Funny coming from you, always trying to get me to talk. But only when you like what I have to say.”

“Ay chulito pues, I didn’t say I minded it,” she winked. “Just not when it’s used against me.”

“Mm yea, don’t play that way. I’m an equal opportunity offender.”

At that, she laughed, eyes closed, full-out, no doubt loud enough to be heard on the first floor. Remembering Nestor, I let her hand drop but held onto the tips of her fingers. I couldn’t be sure how long we stayed like that, twining and un-twining our fingers in silence; every once in a while pressing palms together; two kids in the sandbox, comparing to see whose were bigger. If we’d never stopped, I wouldn’t have cared a lick.

Something must’ve hit her though because her face fell. Serious. Troubled. Thoughts descended in real-time, only I couldn’t make out what they were.

Until she breathed out, “Oye.”

It wasn’t like her to retreat but when I looked up, she said nothing else. Just chewed ferociously on the inside of her cheek. I waited, eyes drifting back down to watch our fingers and knuckles, still rhythmically locking and unlocking.

Breaking the silence, she gave it another shot. “Miguel’s party is on Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

There it was again, another retreat. What the fuck was she gonna say that she was so nervous to say it?

“And?”

It came out soft like a secret. “Go with me?”

Huh. Whatever I thought she might say, it sure as shit wasn’t that. Not … asking me to the dance? Disbelief chipped away at my usual poker face and without thinking, I blurted, “What? Why?”

Zero-to-sixty in four seconds flat and now she was fuming.

“Why? What do you mean ‘why?’”

Senseless. I knew it then. Should’ve walked it back. Found a better way to ask. But still, it was the only thing that came out of my mouth and all too matter-of-fact.

“I mean like ... why.”

Her jaw cocked to one side. She looked like she wanted to slug me. Because despite the fact that I wasn’t family, had never even met Miguel, had no business being there, somehow it was the dumbest question in the world.

“There’s—” I fumbled for words, raking my hand up and down the back of my head. “I just— why would I be there? You don’t need security. He’s the main man. No doubt he’ll have his own.”

“Because.”

“Because,” I shot back flatly.

“Because.”

“Think your brother, my boss, is gonna need more than ‘because.’ Even from you.”

“You’d be surprised.” She cracked a smile.

That’s right. Stubborn. Impossible. And she knew it. Like a reflex or muscle memory, my face settled into that thousand yard stare, the one she and so many others felt the need to decode.

She conceded, “Because. Okay?” throwing her hands up and letting them fall. They smacked her hips on the way back down and the rest came out in practically one breath. “Because even though he’s a genius and he’s technically family, Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo is the most insufferable man in all of Mexico. I can’t stand him and I can’t stand almost everyone else on that fucking guest list. Así qué quiero que estés allí porque ya todos los odio. Pero a ti te quiero. <So, maybe I want you there because I hate all of them. But I love you.>"

Wait, come again? She didn’t just— no, but she did.

Pero a ti te quiero.

“Oh.”

I turned around, fell against the door, pressing into it with my forehead, and didn’t say anything for a long time. Mind searching for an explanation: the timing, why now? What day was it? What date was it? What was different about now?

I’d woken up in the same bed in that cramped apartment just down the street from Parque Teniente, the first one I could find when I got to Tijuana months ago. Woken up the same damn person. As far as I knew, so had she. There was nothing especially extraordinary about today. If anything it was routine, sneaking into Mín’s office when we knew no one would be there, away from prying eyes: Alicia, Ruth, their mother, the gaggle of Arellano women who always seemed to be at the house. Away from Pancho, who’d made a habit of passing out, snoring until three in the afternoon, on the pull-out couch at my place.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it sank in how unremarkable the day was. Maybe something happened. Some earth-shattering event she hadn’t told me about yet, something that would explain the sentence that just left her lips and turned reality into something like the dimensions of a funhouse mirror.

Shit, how long had I been standing there with my head against the door? How long had she been waiting? No idea. Did it matter? Of course it did. This wasn’t something silence could solve. Or even put off. Not that there was anything to solve.

I turned back around to face her, half-wincing, anticipating her fury. A satisfied smirk had settled in the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t mad. Just leaned against the desk, puffing away, which was ... odd. I scanned her face for any indication, clenched jaw, flared nostrils, blazing brown eyes, some sign of impending apocalypse. But no, she looked serene. Smug even, tickled at how surprised I was. No, she wasn’t mad at all.

Oh.

And it hit me. I could see it so clearly now in the way she stood with her hip out and how she held her cigarette off to the side, wrist lax, nothing to worry about. Why she wasn’t mad. She knew there was nothing to worry about. This wasn’t a confession. No grade-school picking petals off flowers, ‘he loves me, he loves me not.’ She hadn’t said it in the hopes that in return, she’d hear the same. Because it was plain as day. Fucking obvious. Not a doubt in her mind.

It was funny too ‘cause that had been sealed away in a vault in some deep, dark corner of my mind, cordoned off by an electric fence, wrapped in several yards of barbed wire and caution tape. WARNING. POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS. I barely knew because I barely allowed myself to. That came easy as it always did. Or easier anyway than feeling and not knowing what to do, where to put it. So I barely knew. Maybe it was now that I only just realized it, in a fully-formed thought.

A ti te quiero también.

But it felt wrong, seemed to make the moment small somehow, if I were to say it out loud back to her. Forced for obligation, ceremony’s sake, and altogether pointless when she already knew.

So I just said, “Fine.”

Her eyes lit up, filled to the brim with, you really mean it?

“Yeah, fine, I’ll go.”

She beamed. My own personal sun.

“But you figure whatever fake reason to tell your brothers. I ain’t sayin’ shit.”

She squeezed my hand. Any tighter and it would’ve cut the circulation. Not quite the deliverance that launching at each other would’ve been, sweeping all the papers and supplies off of Mín’s desk, not giving a shit what broke as it hit the floor, buttons popping loose from my shirt and rolling on the ground as she tore it off, taking each other carnally hostage right there. But with Nestor still downstairs, it’d have to be enough.

✺

So here I am. And she’s missing in action.

A hand comes down on my shoulder. Ramón’s. “Mira nada más <Look what we have here>,” he chuckles pointing to Ms. Fuck-You-Money. “Esa chulita been eyeing you all night.”

I roll my eyes.

Món chokes out, laughing through a sip of champagne, “Ay qué duro, cabron. <Ey, tough fucker.> Good answer. Attention from a woman like that? That’ll get you killed, or worse.”

Lost, I shoot him a look of confusion.

“What’s the look for.”

“What’re you talking about?” I say shaking my head.

“Wait d— you don’t know who that is?”

I stare at him through half-lidded eyes.

He can barely contain his amusement and I could bust that Cheshire-cat smile wide open for it, the chistoso. See, ‘cause it’s something I’ll never understand but Ramón lives for shit like this. How many times I wished I felt the same or could at least access some similar well of couldn’t-give-a-fuck charisma that allowed the kid to cut loose, no matter where he went. Unless he was in one of his moods. Still, his glee is infectious if not foreign. So despite being miffed, I’m grateful he’s here.

“That’s— okay, that’s Miguel’s wife, Daniela.”

“Thought her name was like Marta? María? Something else?”

“Oh nooo, no, no, no.” Ramón jiggles his head back and forth. “That’s his first wife. This is his second.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Yeah, right?” Món shrugs. “Tío moves fast apparently. Upgraded to a new model already. Personally, I don’t get it. Should’ve stuck with the classic. And María,” he looks at me and whistles, “qué clásico.”

We both watch Miguel work a group of sleazy-looking politicians. I don’t need to be up close to imagine how badly they reek of too-expensive, tacky cologne, or how clammy their hands are, sweating because they’ve been mainlining too much sauce and blow. My eyes drift to Daniela who’s pointing around theatrically to the outdoor decor. Like her husband, she’s smooth-talking another group of guests.

That’s when it clicks. As she dances from a group of Senators, to a group of financial hacks, to a group of mid-level distributors, I can’t help but think how busy bees flit. Flower to flower, pollinating each one. Stroking the right egos, smiling, leaving a hand on a shoulder just long enough to make them think they might have a shot with the big man’s wife. From everything I’ve heard about Miguel, he might let them, for the right price. That fact fills me with equal measures of sadness and relief. Sad for her. Relief to know it’s a hustle, an award-winning performance. Though why she’s been wasting time on me, a friend of the Arellano family at best, low-level Arellano goon at worst, is anyone’s guess.

“Seems she’s like that with everyone.”

“Oh no, carnal. With you? That shit’s real. She knows you’re with us.” Ramón reaches for my face like he’s about to pinch my cheek. “Not some rich politician’s secret love child.”

“Ey, no mames, cabrón.” I swat it away with a smirk, so he knows we’re simpatico. “You and Pancho always fixin’ to get me in more trouble than I’m ever looking for.”

I think of Dina just then and how it’s possible for lies to lag like that sometimes. Feeling like truth ‘til the words are well outta your mouth.

As if anxiety’s summoned her to me, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dina walking toward us. On her way over, she grabs a drink from a guy standing by the bar holding two champagne glasses, someone she mistakes for a waiter. Based on the beet red look on his face, he turns to be a guest. He flips out and at first, Dina looks ready to apologize and move on. No big deal.

It’s not until he starts pointing his finger in her face, “Qué verga, vieja? No soy un pinshe mesero <What the fuck, lady? I'm not a fuckin' waiter>,” that I glance at the ground to hide a smile. I know what’s coming but this poor bastard doesn’t. It’s always satisfying to watch Dina work, handling men who make mistakes like that. No doubt it’d be a scathing indictment but never done in the same way. Refreshing, that kind of variety. I always respected it.

She leans back, eyeing the guy up and down, then walks over, purposely slow, all the time in the world, to a real waiter holding a tray. Grabbing a new glass, she walks back and shoves it into the guy’s hand, taking extra care to make sure it spills on his jacket. Beads of sweat and outrage pour from him, as he looks down at his damp lapel in disgust.

She waves her index finger back and forth between them, “Listo, pues. Ya estamos? <Well, then. We good?>” and points at Ramón next to me. “Or shall I have my brother, Ramón—“ she waves, “Hi Món! Yeah, that one. The tall one over there. Shall I ask him to step in, help mediate the matter?”

Everyone’s eyes shoot straight to Món who, on cue, flashes a smile so diabolical, the devil himself would’ve tipped his hat in appreciation. Still fuming, the guy brushes the front of his jacket and straightens his collar but says nothing.

“Aye,” Dina punctuates with a dip of her head. “Eso es lo que pensaba. <Yeah, that's what I thought.>"

And that seems like the end of it until she a twenty out of her wallet in that impossibly tiny purse. “Ey, next party you go to, if you want to avoid being confused with the catering staff, maybe don’t wear a dinner jacket. It’s a nice house, sure. Not the fucking Met.”

The guy is mute, shocked as she slips the bill in his breast pocket and glides away. Even a few feet away, I can already see her rolling her eyes and giggling as she makes her way to us.

Ramón says, cackling, “I thought maybe you were going to ask for a bottle there, crack him over the head with it,” as she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“No, no. We couldn’t embarrass our tío querido could we. Besides,” she gives a cavalier wave toward the guy, “Drastic measures like those are reserved for Chapo. Or Cochi.”

I look at the two of them standing with Güero on the other side of the DJ platform. They look like they’re enjoying themselves about as much as I am.

I make eye contact with Güero briefly before I feel another hand on my shoulder. Dina’s?

“What no hug for me?”

I catch her awkwardly with one arm, stiffening as she pulls me in too close and for too long.

“Woo,” Món hoots. ”Creo que Enedina ha tomado un poquito demasiado. <I think Enedina's had one too many.>"

She bats him in the arm. “Ay que no, if you’d had the conversation I just had with Mín, you’d be chugging this,” she knocks back the last few sips of champagne, then holds up the glass, “like water too.”

“Why? What happened?”

”Oh nothing, he just–“ she lets out a hefty sigh. “Just rolled over for Miguel like he always does.”

Before Món can ask anything else, Dina’s face lights up at someone behind him.

All drunk swagger, Pancho waltzes over, a drink in each hand, yelling, “Estos cabrooooones. I been looking all over for you.”

He sidles next to Ramón, who reaches for the other drink in his hand. He pulls back. “Qué shingadas? <What the fuck?> I didn’t bring this for you.”

Món pulls a face like Pancho just kicked over a sandcastle he spent hours building.

I hold my hands up in defeat, chuckling, “Ey I didn’t ask him to bring me anything. Knowing this pruno-king, I bet they’re both his.”

“Y esto? Esto es porque es mi compa. Él me conoce <And this? This is why he's my homie. He gets me>,” Pancho slurs, with a tipsy smile, eyes half shut.

“Qué pedo <What the hell>, is everyone drunk here besides me?” Món catches me smiling and rolls his eyes. “Tú no, rarito <Not you, weirdo>. You don’t count.”

Glancing at the crowd around us, Pancho asks “Where’s Mín?” and stumbles back, nearly planting his ass on the lawn.

He grabs Món for support, who already looks startled as Dina shoves her empty glass at him. “Who cares? Yo quiero bailar,” she declares, grabbing my hand.

She yanks me with such force, I wonder if I look like one of those Loony Toons characters, a regular Beaky Buzzard swept offscreen by Bugs Bunny with a giant cane.

Behind us Pancho and Ramón are busting up laughing. “Panchito, I think she might be drunker than you are.”

Pancho holds up one of his drinks in salute. “Aaaaaayyy órale, mi brujita!”

My hand firmly in hers, Dina shimmies around the other couples on the dancefloor. When she finds a spot she deems satisfactory, she turns and snaps me towards her, gliding her hand up my right arm to my shoulder, and moving my left around her waist. I’m lost in static. My heart’s beating fast. Too fast, like a hummingbird caught all up in my chest and each beat of its wings jolts my rib cage, while it tries to jailbreak outta there.

And it’s not the proximity that’s got my blood up, really. It’s her. It’s rare to see Dina overflowing with this kind of reckless joy. So rare in fact, there’s a gravity to it, a pull magnified by irregularity, that makes it harder to resist. In tandem with the music, I’m goner, already falling into it. But what does any of it matter, when I know how she feels now. Just the same as me.

✺

We finish with a dip, and the blurry wall of lights and onlookers, among them the suspicious face of Mín, the curious face of Ramón, and the drunk glassy eyes of Pancho, become crystal clear again, as I bring Dina back up. The song changes and I let go, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Making my way off the dancefloor, she follows close, reassuring in a low voice, “It’ll be fine, amor. They know I’m tipsy.”

“Yeah. And they know I’m not.”

Although— I look over at the bar. Fuck it, I could fix that now. Before we can reach Mín, Món, and Pancho, standing by the DJ booth, I tear through the crowd, right to the bar. Fuck any rules. This is Def Con One and that lapse in judgment could only be reasonably explained to the Arellano boys by both of us being shitfaced. I flag down a bartender.

“Shot of tequila.”

“What kind?”

I eye him coolly. “Whatever. Dealer’s choice.”

Willing myself not to be too twitchy, conspicuous, I glance around to make sure Benjamín hasn’t sicced Món on me. That look of disapproval on his face is going to be seared to the backs of my eyelids for days. Maybe weeks. Not a chance in hell that he’d overlook that display. As far as Ramón, who looked more intrigued than anything, jury’s still out. Might be he’d follow Mín’s lead. That is, unless Dina were to intervene, which– that’d be something she’d have to do. I’d never ask her. Not an option. That leaves Pancho who’s unlikely to give a shit. Or if he did, he’s too drunk now to make a show of it. But no, even sober, we’ve been homies through and through. He’d have my back. Maybe the only one.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, all of it, already a fucking mess. It hasn’t spilled out entirely from my head onto the world, but only a matter of time.

A whistle from someone a barstool away interrupts the game of 3D chess I’m playing with myself, trying to compute then varying combinations of factors and events that could end me. I’m so in it, it takes me a beat to even realize they’re whistling at me.

“Ey, dónde aprendiste a bailar como eso? <Hey, where did you learn how to dance like that?>” someone asks quietly, in familiar but strangely-accented Spanish.

I turn to shoot a fuck-off stare to whoever, but when I’m met with the sight of an odd-looking, half-bald, ginger dude in jeans, a denim jacket, and a pair of Jordans that probably cost more than my first car, I’m taken aback by the expression on his face. Strange-like, fondly admiring, but more like he’s observing a zoo animal, exotic as those peacocks waddling across the lawn, than a person.

“Viene de familia.” <Runs in the family.>

All the odd guy says is, “Ah,” and then proceeds to fiddle with the toothpick in his mouth and survey the crowd.

Based on how he’s dressed, it’s clear this dude isn’t a regular guest. If I had to put my money on anything? Sicario. No question. Because even though he doesn’t have the trademark hyper-vigilance, coiled up tight, a piston ready to pop, the strange little homie does have a cracked look I recognize. Like he doesn’t need to be on-guard because he’s past the point of feeling much beyond general amusement.

I’d come up with a couple guys like this back home. Met even more of them in prison. You could tell who they were because they didn’t pretend to be concrete copies of themselves. Already born steel people, they never needed to bother with the mandatory, self-imposed identity mutilation necessary to survive in the Petri dish of the California Department of Corrections. But the most interesting thing about them? Scary as they could be, they’re also some of the more honest criminals I’ve dealt with. At least, those who’re murder-for-hire, not murder-for-fun.

Spotting the shiny, engraved handle of a pistol in his waistband, I whistle, “Nice, .357?”

He doesn’t take it out to show it off, just flashes a slinky, joker smile. “You got a good eye.”

“Likewise. Dope piece.”

Yeah, definitely more than your average muscle. The real pros don’t tend much to show and tell. But who the guy works for, I can’t figure exactly. Given that I had to give up my own weapon before we came through, I’m guessing he’s Miguel’s muscle. Looking over at a doorway filled with the broad shoulders and Fabio-like hair of Miguel’s top security guy, Tony, I try picturing these two working together and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Eh, it’s too hard— it’s nothin’.”

The strange homie responds with an amused snort but doesn’t press further. We go back to our mutual but silent surveillance. I can’t see the Arellanos anywhere, but I do spot the Sinaloa crew making their way to the exit by the bar. The weird little guy waves at them like they’re the oldest of friends. I nearly give myself whiplash, looking back and forth from Strange Homie to Güero and Cochi’s pained smiles and an outright look of disgust from Chapo.

“Those are the guys who brought the tiger last year,” Strange Homie helpfully explains, still waving.

“Man, everyone keeps telling me about that tiger. Guess I missed out.”

“You weren’t here last year?”

Still looking around for Ramón, I shake my head, stating absentmindedly, “Haven’t been to any kinda shit like this in my life.”

If Benjamín hadn’t already put him up to cutting me into little pieces, I would’ve at least expected Món to be hot on the heels of the Sinaloa crew, if only to berate, and harass, and swear at them as they’re leaving. And yet, he’s nowhere. Shoot, maybe Mín decided not to even bother chasing me down, and they just bounced. Left me there. Dina would be pissed but all things considered, I’d be getting off lightly. Compared to other possibilities. Could I be so lucky?

I turn my attention back to Strange Homie.

A jackal-like grin brightens his whole face. “Yeah, you did miss out. I got to feed it.”

“Big animal fan, huh?”

Strange Homie considers the question seriously as though it requires an answer, deep or existential in some way. But what he comes back with is relatively simple. “I guess, apex predators, yeah.”

“Easiest to relate to?” I joke.

The jackal smile back again as he exclaims, “Exacto!” Only this time, it bears sincerity that makes it more endearing than unsettling.

I raise my shot glass, saluting, “Makes sense to me.” An implied given what I know about you, unsaid in the air as I knock the shot back. Strange Homie likely knows, has probably been profiling my own profiling this whole time.

“So, you are not from around here?” Strange Homie ventures, as I catch the bartender’s attention to order another shot.

“From Guadalajara?”

Strange Homie shrugs and nods.

“Nah. You?”

He says with a knowing smirk, “Do I sound like I’m from Guadalajara?”

I shake my head, chuckling to myself. The bartender brings another shot and I put it away, perfunctory, then bite into the lime. It’s so sour, I feel shooting pangs in the sides of my mouth and tongue. The sensation of pain, concrete and tangible enough to focus on, brings me back to me.

I wipe my mouth and clear my throat. “You don’t sound like you’re from Guadalajara, but I got a few camaradas back home who sound kinda like you. Colombianos.”

“Good eye. Good ear,” Strange Homie notes, a hint of approval in his voice.

“The melting pot of America.”

“Ah, entonces eres un gringo?” <Oh, you're a gringo then?>

“Te has visto, hombre? De donde vengo, eres más gringo que yo.” <Have you seen yourself, man? Where I'm from, you're more gringo than me.>

I half-expect Strange Homie to be offended but he just snickers and nods in agreement. “Pues, tal vez tengas razón. Supongo que quiero decir que eres un gabacho.” <Well, maybe you're right. I guess I mean to say, you're a foreigner.">

“Close enough.”

“Well gabacho, un placer. Yo soy Navegante.” He reaches out to shake hands.

I extend mine tentatively, “David Barrón.”

As we stand there, forearms bobbing up and down slowly, a look of calculation and sorrow fills Strange Homie’s eyes. Something about it, and the way he says, “You seem like a cool guy. I wish we hadn’t talked so much.” I can’t quite put my finger on why it makes my stomach drop.

Fuck. Dina. Where are they. The Arellanos. Makes no sense. Been nowhere this whole time. Fuck. The empty spot where my gun usually sat in my waistband screams at me like a phantom limb. I try freeing my hand from Navegante’s, who holds on like a vice and laments, “I am glad you got those shots of tequila in though. Since we both know how bad this will hurt.”

My teeth grind into my lower lip so hard, I taste blood. And yet, it still does fucking nothing to ease the sting of surprise as the knife sinks into my stomach.

✺

Everything after that happens in slow motion. He must’ve carried me out at some point and anyone who saw me doing shots at the bar just assumed I was wasted. I don’t know how much blood I’ve lost. Enough that it feels like I’m moving through molasses when they chuck me in the backseat of that town car. Or is it a limo? The seats are facing each other like in a limo. Or maybe I’m molasses because of the booze. If not the booze exclusively, it definitely isn’t helping, blood thinning as it is. Fucking stupid. So stupid. In my life, had I ever been so stupid?

Although, I have to give it to Strange Homie— what was his name again? Navegante? — it’s been ages since someone got the jump on me like that. Since I was a kid probably. He’d been decent enough about it too, although I could’ve done without the stick in the gut. A few inches higher, he might’ve fractured a rib, but I might have more my full faculties. But no, this guy knew what he was doing. It’d landed exactly where he’d wanted it to.

Fingers wrestle with the tie at my neck, ripping it off, and it’s not until I bring it down to put pressure on the wound in my stomach that I realize those fingers are mine. The other courtesy Navegante had done? Strange Homie left the knife in. Although, whether that’s so I wouldn’t bleed out as fast or if it’s so he could further torture me by twisting it, is unclear. So much of it is unclear. I try going back, retracing every step leading up to the point I’d been stabbed but my brain’s stuck in quicksand. If I live to see tomorrow, I’ll have to take some kind of blood oath to never touch another drop of alcohol again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dina. Where is she. The Arellanos. They’d disappeared. Where the fuck was Dina. The panic, the cortisol, like a defibrillator at my chest, shocking me more awake, as I pack the fabric of my tie around the knife to soak up the blood. Forgetting myself, I reach behind for my gun and grumble at the empty spot where it normally is. Should be. Stupid. So. fucking. stupid.

I hear voices outside the car. No gun, no way out, no idea where anyone else is, where I am now, no choice but to accept it. So I just lean back against the seat, keeping pressure on my stomach and wait patiently for what’s to come.

When the door finally opens, I expect to be met with Strange Homie, Navegante’s jackal grin but instead it’s a taller man, a lot more normal looking, with dark eyes and a full head of hair. No one I recognize though and he’s someone I’d remember, considering he’s one of the most sharply dressed motherfuckers I’ve seen outside a movie. He slides in to sit across from me and grabs a file that had been laying on the seat next to him.

He reads from it calmly, soothingly business-as-usual. “I do apologize for the harsh introduction, Señor Barrón Corona. Navegante said you were nothing but gentlemanly prior to his stabbing you.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and on reflex, the muscles in my stomach clench around the blade. Like I’ve stepped onto the worst elevator ride, my throat feels like it’s in my head. Just blistering, white-hot agony. A jagged inhale drags down the back of my throat and I try not to pass out. “S’funny,” I cough out, “was just thinking the same thing.”

“Please know, this isn’t personal. Or rather, not for me. I suspect it’s very personal for your employer.” He looked up from the file, smirking. “Or I suppose, that’s the idea.”

My employer? The fuck was Benjamín going to be upset about? Me with a knife in my gut in the backseat of whatever big-shot, cartel guy’s car?

“Banking on the wrong strategy there,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

The man looks up from the file again, waiting for me to explain further.

“No love lost between my employer and me.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

He says this with such assurance, it becomes apparent that this whole scheme, whatever it is, whatever game this guy’s playing, this shit is well above my pay grade. No point trying to outmaneuver when my head’s still in quicksand and I don’t even have the fucking rulebook.

“But you answer to the whole family, no?”

I roll my eyes and slump my shoulders, too tired to summon a real response.

“David Barrón Corona. From Logan Heights, San Diego, California. Says here you were born in Tijuana, but your parents are naturalized citizens. Which would give you—” he licks his forefinger and flips a page. “Ah yes, dual Mexican-American citizenship. Oh, your father was in the navy? Why does it seem the best sicarios come from military families. Someone should do a study.”

“Eh, eres un soldado either way.” <Eh, you're a soldier either way.>

The man smirks and continues reading. “Two brothers, one older Mateo Barrón Corona, deceased. And one younger, Alexander Barrón Corona, incarcerated, life no parole. And your mother— hmm, we don’t have much on her.”

I clench my teeth so hard, it feels like I have a charlie horse in my jaw. Willing my stomach muscles to relax, I ease off the middle console with my elbow to lean against the window and breathe out a, “Wow.”

The man takes out a cigarette and pops it between his lips, mumbling, “Qué?” as he lights up.

“Just— I dunno. Seems a lotta paperwork for somebody who’s nobody. Whose asset are you, DoD, CIA?”

The man shakes out his match and cracks a window on his side to toss it out. “Ah, see, but that’s the thing, David— may I call you David?”

I nod listlessly.

“David, do I seem to you like someone who’d waste so much time, go to all this trouble if you were a complete nobody?”

“Can’t say. We just met.” We’re well past politeness. I’m already bleeding all over this guy’s Oxford leather seats.

But instead of insulting him, he cuts up, laughing deep and full. “Funny, discerning—tonight’s little encounter notwithstanding. And from what I hear, an excellent shot, a competent sicario.”

I snort loud enough that he pauses to say, “What is that? False modesty? Don’t bore me before we’ve gotten started.”

“No. I am as good as you’ve heard probably. But that’s not the point.”

Dragging slowly from his cigarette, he brushes a bit of ash that’s fallen on his pant leg, then looks up, fixes his eyes on me, and says, “Enlighten me, then.” He’s the cat. I’m the ball of yarn. It doesn’t even matter.

“Any sicario worth a shit knows it doesn’t matter how good you get.“

“Why’s that?”

A gotcha-type smile spreads across my face for the first time in what feels like ages. “’Cause however good I may be, I’ll always be expendable. Guys like me are always short to the gate.”

And just when I think I’ve got him, for some reason, that warms up those cold brown eyes of his, as though I’ve proven his point more than my own. He bobs his head toward the window where Navegante stood guarding the car. “Well, that may be true of most in your line of work. But I asked my man out there, and he seems to think you’re good people. I’m putting together the picture of you, beginning to understand the appeal, what she sees in you.”

“Why. You hiring?”

“Oh no, no,” he chuckles lightly, “you’re of no use to me that way. No, the fact of the matter is,” then clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “you’re right. Some are more expendable than others. But at the finish line, when death comes to collect, really, we’re all expendable.”

If this guy doesn’t reach some point, some punchline soon, I swear I’m gonna yank this knife out myself, happily bleed out all over the place just to reach some definitive conclusion.

”But here and now? To one with a little power and something I need? You David, are much less expendable than you think.”

The hell is he even talki— oh, fuck.

What she sees in you.

It echoes in my ears until it detonates, like pulling the pin on a grenade in my head, shrapnel ricocheting on the inner walls of my skull, just as I’m trying to piece it together.

My boss. Personal. Dina. You answer to the whole family, no? The guy’s practically been explaining it from the beginning. I’ve just been too dead in the head to make sense of it.

“Ah yes, there it is. And now that you’re caught up with the rest of the class, allow me to formally introduce myself.” The man places his hand on his chest, bowing his head. “I’m Pacho Herrera.”

Yup. This is above my pay grade. Way, way, way the fuck above my pay grade.