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sprout-fics · 10 months

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Valeria Garza Headcanons

I have so many ideas about the queen herself, and I can definitely thank @writeforfandoms and @soapskneebrace for listening to my insane unhinged ramblings about the story concepts I have for this bisexual menace. Have a fic idea I'll never write but is fun to think about:

El Sin Nombre has had a lot of women spend time in her bed. Pretty, seductive, sly women that see the woman with the tattoos and dark eyes, with the brand name clothes and nice cars and think mine

You’re different

Valeria doesn’t pick you up from a strip club or bar, but from something much more mundane, a resturaunt where she sees your boss berating you and somehow decides she’s curious

She asks for you by name, and the next time she visits she does the same. Repeatedly, and each time you wait on her she grows ever more interested in you

You can’t help feeling the same way- this mysterious woman who’s flanked by guards, who always orders top shelf liquor and yet her eyes are not on the food but on you

The proposition she gives you is sudden. Spend a weekend with her. Just one. You don’t have to pay, and she doesn’t expect anything from you either. Just come keep her company

You agree, against your better judgement. Within minutes you’re bundled out to a car in the back alley and driven up to the mountains, to a sprawling villa with tenderly constructed landscaping, tiled hallways and a courtyard with clematis climbing up the lattices. It’s an old money estate, subtle, well crafted. It doesn’t speak of the riches Valeria recently inherited, doesn’t scream gaudy decor or lavish indulgences

It’s beautiful

The weekend that follows is the stuff of dreams. Valeria takes you shopping, buys a wardrobe for you with a signature on a check and a withering glance when you protest the expense. She dines with you in private at the villa in one of your new dresses, and you talk long into the night as the shadows grow long

You wake up the next morning still tangled in her sheets, and it isn’t long after breakfast that you return there…and then the pool…the bathroom…the couch…

By the end of the absolutely dizzying whirlwind of a stay that’s stolen your breath away, Valeria has you in her lap, your hands delicately resting upon her shoulders and she asks

“What is it that you want? Money? Jewels? A car?”

She expects you to say as much. This is not the first time she’s done this. There’s been a dozen women before you who have blinked down at her and coquettishly requested these things, saw Valeria for her riches and not for the person she was. They long after her lifestyle not knowing of the blood involved, ask for beautiful things and then play games to try and cling on to her just a little longer

Instead, you offer something else, biting your lip in thought and shyly asking:

“Can I spend more time with you?”

Looking back, Valeria thinks perhaps it was that moment that sealed her fate

You do visit her again. Several times a month, and each visit is filled not with the riches of her coffers but with the wealth of her attention to you. You find yourself opening up to the mysterious heiress, knowing nothing of the brutality that lurks behind the tenderness she bestows upon you

She ensures your rent is paid for, always on time, pays off your boss so she can take you for the week, and you visit the coast with her. You try your hand at cooking for her and she has the gall to tease you when the smoke detector goes off. She makes you taste new, strange food and drags you into bed with their taste still lingering on your lips

She pushes catalogs of lingerie into your hands and urges you to buy as many as you see fit, and then has you model them for her

All of them

You call her when your car breaks down, when you don’t have enough to pay for a health appointment, hesitating over the phone before she merely laughs and asks if you think she can’t afford it

You call her in tears when your landlord kicks you out without warning after harassing you for money- pointing to the rich stranger who comes to collect you for days at a time

Valeria comforts you in her room, has you dry your eyes on her shoulder and silently nods to her second in command

You look to her when your things are brought to the villa, and Valeria tells you with little fanfare that she’s moving you in

You also never see your landlord again

She acquiesces when you insist on keeping your job, but reminds you that she can easily provide for the both of you

You never find out where the money comes from, and Valeria likes to keep it that way. If she can keep your hands free of that bloodshed, she will

You’re the thing in her life that’s free from violence, the remedy to the rot, the gentle flicker of a lantern in the darkness of a coffin. She drinks you in like sunshine, a needed cure to the brutality in her

You slowly realize the depths Valeria will go to for you, ad you’d be lying if it didn’t scare you

She locks down the villa after a call too close- a lieutenant of her gone rogue, one who knows far too much about you for you to be safe. You aren’t allowed to leave the villa for over a week, and at one point Valeria vanishes for a full day before coming back. When she embraces you, you can’t help but think she smells like death.

She’s had men killed for less than the offense of threatening you

Yet with you she’s softer. Not gentle, per say. El Sin Nombre will never be gentle. She’ll tease you until you beg, ensure you beg for her until there’s tears, and even then she’ll only tell you “Is it too much, querida? Ohhh, poor thing.”

She’ll bite her marks into your skin, will have you fist the sheets until the only thing you remember is her name. She’ll make sure that even if the world ends, it’ll be the only thing left in you

She’s so damn sensual sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Pushing up against you in the kitchen, her hand rising up under your skirt and her voice undeniably pleased at the little gasp you give her in response

She loves flustering you, will blatantly say something sexual if only to see you splutter. It’s like the act of getting you riled up is a drug itself to her, sinfully addicting and oh so sweet

She takes this perfect life for granted, because one day you don’t come back from your outing

Gone

You yourself don’t know the two strange soldiers that bundle you into the back of a humvee while you’re shopping, tremble in the back of the car while they take you to the Mexican special forces home base and interrogate you over El Sin Nombre, a mysterious and terrifying figure you know nothing about

Until you do

You think a long time ago maybe you would have been horrified, would have gotten on your knees and begged for them to protect you. Now, you have something else to protect. So when Ale and Rudy try desperately to press you for answers you only glare

Then, a messenger, and you hear Valeria’s voice float over the radio. There’s bloodshed and cruelty in the words she gives the Vaqueros, and she promises that she will carve a path of carnage should you not return to her unharmed

“I will burn Las Almas to the ground.” She vows, voice sinister in the low, rasping oath she swears to them. “I will make sure the children that dance on your graves know my name.”

It’s a threat that works, because as much as Ale would rather kill Valeria, the devotion to his home runs deep inside him further still

It’s Rudy who issues a low, grave warning about the woman who has captured your heart, and his words are gentle despite the prophecy he gives you. There’s something mildly resembling pity in his eyes

It lasts for the entire drive until you’re returned back to Valeria’s arms, and you beg her for mercy when she threatens to end Rodolfo’s life for the transgression of touching you

Yet in the aftermath that follows it’s Valeria who cups your face and turns it up to her, asks with gentleness that doesn’t reach her gaze if you’re hurt

You tell her no, you’re unharmed, and that even if you were, you’d suffer a thousand blows if it meant you could once more return to her side

She kisses you there, in front of all her sicarios, holds you close to her and tucks your head into her shoulder

Silently, to herself, she thinks that regardless of riches and wealth, of treasures and the power that comes with being El Sin Nombre, that the most precious thing in her entire empire is you

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria x f! reader #valeria x reader #cod mw22 #headcanons #drabbles #my writing #If someone does somehow decide to pick this up I'd appreciate if you could credit me but it isn't strictly required #Thank you!

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 1 year

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson.

A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot

You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face.

You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way.

She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”

You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”

“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”

You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up.

“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”

She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest.

She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”

You choke a bit on your coffee.

Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”

She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”

“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”

“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”

You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”

“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”

Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for.

But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far.

Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father.

He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small.

And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.

“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”

“What if I’m busy?”

“I know you’re not.”

You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease.

She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”

“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.

She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”

“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?

She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you.

“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”

“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”

“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”

She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs.

“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”

She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”

“Sarah!”

~~~

Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance.

You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls.

The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends.

She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”

She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you.

He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry.

Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention.

“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter.

She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”

She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.

“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”

He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”

“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”

He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”

You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”

A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”

You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”

He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions.

“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”

You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”

Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”

He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”

“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”

His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”

You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.

He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly.

“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.

“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”

You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”

“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing.

He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to.

He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”

You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.

It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute.

“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”

“We’re watching the students more closely.”

“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.

His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”

You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”

Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people.

You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile.

You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”

“Desperately,” he laughs.

“He told me you said I’m pretty.”

Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”

“So he’s telling the truth?”

His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”

“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again.

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”

You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”

He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment.

Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it.

Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up.

“People are looking,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you care what they think?”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”

“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo.

You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”

He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”

“Think I’m too heavy?”

“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”

“You’re like 35, Joel.”

“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers.

Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room.

The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”

“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”

“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips.

After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps.

You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it.

A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him.

“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”

You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat.

“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.”

The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down.

“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”

“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”

You freeze.

“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”

Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened.

Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning.

“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.”

She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go.

Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile.

“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”

“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.

You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”

You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist.

Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”

The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”

He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction.

Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands.

Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them.

His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again.

He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone.

Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”

You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath.

Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely.

“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together.

He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”

Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”

You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”

“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously.

You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~

“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words.

Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs.

You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly.

He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”

She nods and hops out, running towards the house.

Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”

You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”

“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”

You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now.

You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile.

The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”

“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”

Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”

“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder.

Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile softly.

They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts.

You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you.

You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes.

You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away.

You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.

“Found what you needed?”

You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”

He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”

His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”

He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”

You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”

“Him?” his eyebrows raise.

You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”

He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same.

“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”

Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”

He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.

“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”

His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened.

“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened.

“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”

“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”

He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”

Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”

“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”

You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”

He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”

You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”

“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face.

“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.

“I was very proud,” he grinned.

“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”

“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”

The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again.

“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”

“What’s there to talk about about?”

You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”

He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”

You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you.

“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”

“Guilty bout what?”

“For moving on.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”

Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too.

Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice.

Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both.

“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”

You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you.

“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer.

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”

You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully.

“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”

“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back.

“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”

You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.

“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin.

He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”

You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other.

“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest.

You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly.

“Impatient, are we?”

You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”

Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again.

“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”

You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”

He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours

When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks.

Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again.

You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss.

“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers.

He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”

You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.

“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth.

You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.

Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again.

He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.

You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.

This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.

“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”

You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.

You whimper and his movements slow as do yours, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers.

You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.

As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.

“Will you go out… with me?” Joel says sweetly, kissing your temples. “That usually comes first but we- I…”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a soft kiss, “The answer is always yes.”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a press of your lips quietly, “Yes. The answer is always yes.”

Joel rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Your chests heaving, out of breath but happy. Everything you both have wanted for a long, long time, laying right in front of each other.

“Can I...” he searches your face, face red and nervous you’ll say no even when you’re in his arms. “Can I take you out tomorrow? I usually do that before this, but we just... I-”

You interrupt with a kiss, his new favorite thing, whispering, “Yes, Joel. The answer is always yes.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #fanfiction #smut #bella ramsey #ellie the last of us #ellie

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

Text

All These Years [Part 3: "Betrayal"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: This one is a very angsty installment because we get Elektra in it! And I know some of you probably love her (and I have no qualms with that), but she's definitely not good for Matt and I definitely played that up in this series because, well, angst. So I hope you enjoy because this one hurts... You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. And y'all catch that foreshadow? Because the next one is titled "All the Broken Pieces" for a reason...

Tag list: @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @acharliecoxedfan

"Dude, no, how can you possibly think ramen sounds better than pizza right now?" Foggy asked.

"Because," you began, shooting Foggy a pointed look as the pair of you exited the elevator onto the floor of his dorm, "we had pizza last Saturday night. It's been over a month since we've gotten ramen. Therefore, ramen sounds better."

"There is no way soup trumps pizza!" Foggy disagreed.

The pair of you turned the corner of the hallway, Foggy and Matt’s dorm room coming into view. Shaking your head, you readjusted the weight of your backpack on your back.

"Ramen is so much more than just soup , Fog," you argued. "That's an absolute insult to ramen."

"It's glorified soup at best," Foggy stated firmly. "But pizza reigns supreme–especially supreme pizza."

The two of you came to a stop in front of his dorm room door, Foggy pulling his key from his pocket as he waggled his eyebrows at you, clearly proud of his joke. You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as he turned and unlocked the door.

"Okay,” Foggy conceded as he opened the door, “how about we just order–"

But the sight before you both in the dorm room immediately cut him clean off. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed Matt, who was clearly naked under the covers, quickly rolling off of his very clearly naked girlfriend. Though she looked less bothered by the intrusion than Matt as she leisurely pulled the sheets up to cover herself.

"Oh, shit, sorry buddy," Foggy apologized in a rush, his cheeks turning pink. "I didn't–didn't realize you were here and doing things of a particular nature."

Matt held the sheets over his lower half, his bare upper torso exposed. His shoulders were heaving as he tried to catch his breath, an uncomfortable smile spreading on his flushed face as he focused his attention by the door where Foggy had spoken. All the while you tried hard not to stare at Matt’s exposed bare and muscled chest–something you noticed Elektra noticing.

And then jealousy abruptly unfurled in your gut once the scene before you really settled in over the surprise of seeing Matt shirtless. You hated Elektra. And you knew the sight of catching them having sex was going to be forever painfully seared into your mind now. Your heart felt like it was withering in your chest as she settled in comfortably beside Matt in his bed. Stomach twisting into knots as you tried to regain your composure, you closed your mouth and clenched your jaw. You were not going to cry in front of Elektra.

"Uh, didn't realize you would be coming back so soon tonight," Matt said awkwardly.

"Or with your little girlfriend," Elektra added, gesturing a hand at you.

"She's not my girlfriend," Foggy stated, his annoyance at Matt’s girlfriend only just barely contained.

A very sly smile slid onto her red lips as she watched you intently from across the room. You crossed your arms over your chest as you tried hard to fight back the heat steadily growing in your cheeks. She was so infuriating, you couldn't understand what Matt saw in her to keep her around as his girlfriend. And you didn't understand why he would have a relationship with someone like her when he so often had praised you for your kindness and compassion–things she greatly lacked that he seemed to greatly admire.

It had also been awhile since Matt had really hung out with you and Foggy. Three months, to be exact. The exact length of time he'd been seeing her . Elektra Natchios. Or the Soul Sucking Snake Devil as Foggy and you had both taken to referring to her whenever Matt wasn't around. Because that's exactly what she'd done the moment she popped into Matt's life.

He'd been different ever since she'd shown up. He often prioritized her above his class work, on occasion even skipping classes. And if it hadn't been for Foggy staying on Matt's ass about it, his grades probably would've slipped by now. He was always out late with her doing who the hell knew what –you could only guess. Foggy had even told you that sometimes he would wake up to find that Matt wasn't even in his bed in the mornings. And you both noticed how Matt had been drinking more with her, too–to get drunk, not even just the social drinking the three of you usually did. He'd also been quick to anger, and he certainly never had much time for you and Foggy anymore.

You’d honestly barely seen Matt much since she’d appeared. He was hardly ever around when you were here with Foggy, especially on Saturday nights, which used to be a weekly ritual for the three of you. Even at mealtimes he was oddly missing from the dining hall. The last time you’d seen Matt was over a week ago, and it was just in passing as he was leaving his dorm to go meet up with his soul sucking girlfriend.

"You still seem quite prudish, darling," Elektra called out to you in that irritating accented voice of hers. "It's like you've never walked in on two people fucking before. Which, by the sounds of your roommate, shouldn't be such a shock."

Slowly your hands curled into fists where they were crossed over your chest, your nails biting into your palms. Anger burned in your blood, the urge to punch her growing steadily the more she continued to look at you. As if she knew exactly what you were thinking, she flashed her teeth at you in a very threatening smile.

"Maybe you should take some pointers from your roommate," she purred. "Then maybe you'd get out of the friend zone with whoever it is that's got you crying so much."

One of her dark brows rose high up onto her forehead, a knowing smirk pulling the corner of her lips upward. Her hand reached out to Matt’s chest, her nails running along the length of his torso in a clearly territorial manner.

Your eyes had slowly gone wide when her words registered in your mind. Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes flew to Matt. An ache hit you right in the heart, white hot and painful, as he sent you an abashed, apologetic smile.

"You told her that?" you asked in disbelief.

"She was asking about you the other week," Matt admitted awkwardly, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. "If you were seeing anyone. I didn't think it was a big deal–"

"You didn't think the personal details about myself that I shared with you in private weren’t a big deal and that you could just share that information with whoever the hell you wanted?" you asked, your anger only growing.

"Dude, that's not cool," Foggy pointed out, shaking his head.

"Well she wanted to know if you were seeing anyone!" Matt defended. "How was I supposed to know I couldn't tell her the situation?"

“Because I told you that in confidence , Matt!” you yelled. “You’re a fucking law student, you’d think you’d know what the fuck that meant!”

“Oh darling,” Elektra said cooly, her arm wrapping possessively around the back of Matt’s neck as she spoke, “maybe if you’d just told this gentleman what you thought of him sooner, instead of pining for months , you wouldn’t be in this situation, hmm?”

Your lip curled back in disdain, watching the smug smile she sent your way. She damn well knew this 'gentleman' was Matt. You swore she'd known months ago when you'd first met her, and then she intentionally tried to goad you whenever you were around the pair of them. Only Foggy ever seemed to notice, Matt somehow not believing that she was being intentionally cruel to you.

And now once again you found yourself fighting back tears because of Matt. You were so tired of crying over him. You didn't want to feel like this anymore.

Spinning on your heel, you stalked off away from their room, no longer in the mood for pizza or ramen. Or social interaction. You were going to go find somewhere quiet where you could cry, which you couldn't even do in your dorm because your roommate was no doubt there with her new boyfriend.

Hands tightening around the straps of your backpack, you hurried down the hallway. You felt the tears coming now despite how hard you were struggling to keep them back. She was such a bitch . So heartless and callous. And you hated that Matt somehow fell for her, that he somehow couldn't see what she truly was like. You knew he was blind, but how was he that blind? What the hell did he see in her that made her more desirable to him than you?

Slamming your finger into the call button for the elevator, a soft sob fell out of you. She somehow always managed to make you feel like shit, but you couldn't believe Matt had told her something so personal. He'd occasionally asked you about your crush on and off for months ever since he'd first found out about it after that night at the bar. He knew how much you didn't even want to talk to him about it–because it was him you had feelings for–so how could he have thought it was okay to share that with Elektra?

You heard footsteps coming down the hall behind you and you straightened, sniffling loudly as you wiped a hand across the dampness on your cheeks quickly. You didn’t need someone to see you crying, that would only make you feel worse. And you didn’t want some awkward elevator ride where the person beside you was pretending you weren’t crying while you stood awkwardly beside each other.

But then you heard your name uttered from Matt's lips and your eyes slowly closed. You wanted to disappear at the sound of his voice. Just fucking melt into the floor and avoid whatever awkward and uncomfortable conversation this was about to be. You didn’t want to have it.

"What do you want, Matt?" you asked, an edge to your tone.

You didn't bother turning around because you didn't want to look at him; you didn’t think you could. The moment that elevator came up to the floor you wanted to jump in and close the doors on him. What he'd done, betraying your trust like that, hurt you.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't think it was a big deal," he said gently. "She just asked because she was curious if you were seeing someone. She thought maybe the guy you were interested in was Foggy. I mean, I sort of always wondered that myself."

You pulled a face, surprised at what he'd said. He thought the guy you were upset over was Foggy ? All this time?

"You think I like Foggy?" you asked in shock.

"I mean, it makes sense," he answered slowly. "You two are always together. You have a lot in common. And you are good friends," he finished weakly.

Eyes widening, you spun around to face Matt, about to tell him that he was wrong and that you and Fog were strictly friends, but you faltered the moment you took in the sight of him standing there. He'd only managed to throw on a pair of jeans, his torso still bare and exposed–you would be lying if you said your eyes hadn't lingered on the sight of his bare chest yet again. You saw that he hadn't thrown on his glasses either, apparently in a rush to chase after you. His hair was a disheveled mess on his head, mussed no doubt by Elektra's hands. That knowledge only drove the knife further into your heart and twisted it.

He was so unbelievably handsome that it physically hurt to look at him right now. It didn't help that you absolutely hated who he’d become because of Elektra these past three months. When he hadn’t been with her he was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, always considerate of you; he was even considerate and incredibly kind to strangers he didn’t know. And the way he talked about wanting to use his degree in law to help those who weren't fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation, especially with that inspiring passion he always spoke about it with, had only ever made you want to just grab him and kiss him senseless. He was so goddamn smart and so well-spoken. So passionate about what he was doing and so driven when it came to his education. And he had the most beautiful heart you had ever seen in someone on top of it all.

Which was why it absolutely killed you to see him with Elektra. She had ruined all that goodness in Matt the moment she appeared and sunk her claws into him. She didn't even look at him the same way he looked at her. He always gazed at her with a warm affection that lit up his entire face whenever she was near; and you’d often thought what you wouldn't give to be the one he looked at like that, to have him feel like that for you. Instead you saw how she looked at him like he was a toy to wind up and play with, which is exactly what she was always doing with him. Calling him at all hours and demanding he drop everything for her. And he would go running to her like a lost puppy every goddamn time, not caring how it was destroying his friendship with you and Foggy or beginning to affect his grades. And you swore she had only mentioned you being interested in Foggy as a way to push Matt further away from you, though you didn't understand why considering she already had him.

"Foggy and I are just friends, Matt," you stated firmly. "Always have been. He likes that girl Marci. Which you'd know if you were ever around anymore."

"I'm around," he said defensively.

The elevator opened behind you with a ding and you forced your attention off of his half-naked body, turning and stepping into it. Matt instantly rushed forward, throwing a hand out and holding the doors open. You exhaled sharply, irritated that he was drawing this out as you reached out and roughly pressed the button for the main floor.

"I'm around," he said again more firmly.

"I don't even remember the last time you joined us for a Saturday night," you told him.

"Because you and Foggy openly dislike Elektra!" he snapped. "Both of you are so rude to her. You make her so uncomfortable that she doesn't want to spend time with either of you."

Your jaw dropped, shock written all over your face at what he'd said. And then a bitter, humorless laugh flew up out of you. Matt's lips curved into a deep frown at the sound, his left eye twitching a little.

Of course she made it seem like you and Fog were the ones being hurtful and cruel. She would do anything to try to shove a bigger wedge between Matt and his friends, making it so he’d just be all hers. It was such an Elektra move that you were more shocked you hadn’t realized she was doing that to begin with.

“Foggy and I don’t like her because she’s not good for you,” you shot back.

“What are you talking about?” he countered, his brows furrowing. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She understands me like no one else ever has.”

You winced at his words as if they’d somehow struck you themselves. Elektra was the best thing that had ever happened to Matt? That sure as shit fucking hurt to hear. Especially considering the way she treated him and how she was slowly but surely tearing apart his life.

“Foggy and I have known you far longer, Matt,” you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “I think we understand you a little better.”

Matt shook his head instantly, his lips thinning out on his face. “No,” he replied. “Neither of you get me like she does. She’s the only one who truly understands me.”

“Wow, ouch, Matt,” you snapped.

His eyes narrowed as he focused along your chest. You shifted your backpack, the weight of it starting to bother you as he silently scrutinized you, his hand still holding the elevator doors open. You wished he’d just let them go already.

“I’m tired of the way you and Foggy treat her,” he finally said, his voice almost a low growl. “She deserves better than that. And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

His words felt like they’d cut you, your breath catching in your throat as you stood there speechless. It felt like you couldn’t take a full breath, your ribcage feeling like it was collapsing in on your lungs at the callousness in his words.

And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.

This wasn’t Matt before you, not the Matt you knew at least. Not the one you were head over heels for, the one who’d often walked you back to your dorm or understood all of your ridiculous jokes. The one you’d had serious conversations with when Foggy inevitably passed out early on Saturday nights, the pair of you side by side on Matt's bed. You didn’t know who the hell this version of Matt was before you, glaring and saying such hurtful things, the one who so clearly didn’t care about your feelings.

You hated the way your lips had begun to quiver, that pain and hurt causing tears to once again form in your eyes. Anger and heartache mingled inside of you, boiling in your blood and twisting in your gut. You let out a deep breath, one that shook as it left your lips. Matt’s expression swiftly changed at the sound of it, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d upset you.

Taking a step forward, you grasped his wrist on the hand he was blocking the elevator doors with. You glared back at Matt, jaw clenched as you grit your teeth. You never thought there’d be a time you’d want to hit him, but right now you certainly wished you could.

“You’re a shitty friend, Matthew Murdock,” you spat.

Yanking his hand from off the elevator doors, you tossed it back towards him. He’d been so surprised by your outburst that he hadn’t even reacted. And as the elevator doors finally started to close, the last thing you saw was Matt’s stunned face.

Your back had begun to ache from its place against the tree trunk, the bark rough through the thin fabric of your sweatshirt. It was cold this evening, Fall really starting to settle into New York City now. You assumed it was still a bit too early for you to head back to your dorm, but since you’d turned your phone off, you didn’t really know what time it was or how long you’d been sitting under this tree. After awhile you’d eventually stopped crying, though that hollow ache in your chest seemed to be taking a permanent residence tonight.

“Hey, thought I’d find you here.”

Turning at the voice, you looked up to spot Foggy slowly lowering down to the ground beside you. You shifted, making room for him against the tree trunk. For a few minutes neither of you spoke, Foggy just sitting beside you as you continued to stare at the distant traffic on the nearby street that was just a little past Columbia’s campus.

“I’m sorry about Matt,” Foggy eventually said, breaking the silence.

You shrugged. “Not your place to make apologies for him,” you muttered.

“I know, but I feel bad,” he replied. “He shouldn’t have told Elektra you had a crush on someone. He knows how much it's torn you apart for months now. Even if he doesn't know that it's about him. That was still an incredibly shitty thing of him to do.”

“It was,” you agreed. “And his apology about telling her was fucking terrible.”

Beside you, Foggy nodded. “Yeah, he ended up sending Elektra away when he came back from talking with you. He seemed pretty hurt and upset, especially with what you’d said.”

“Good,” you growled. “He deserves to be the one hurting for once. He was an asshole.”

“He was,” Foggy agreed. “But I think there’s just something about Elektra that’s gotten into his head. He hasn’t been himself lately. I don’t–don’t think that’s Matt. I don’t understand what she’s doing to him, but…he’s not acting like the guy I’ve known for a while now.”

“She’s definitely sucked his soul out of him,” you grumbled, toeing the grass with your shoe.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” Foggy said, exasperation evident in his tone. “I can’t break them up, and Matt clearly can’t be reasoned with lately. But he’s slipping. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about what’s going to happen when she breaks his heart, because I think we both know she’s not going to stick around for the long haul.”

Your heart twisted at the thought of the inevitable day where Elektra broke up with Matt. Foggy was right, there was absolutely no way Elektra was the long term girlfriend type. It was a shock she’d been with Matt for three months already. It felt like the expiration date for their relationship was fast approaching, and you weren’t looking forward to the mess she was going to leave behind in her wake.

“It’ll kill him,” you mumbled.

Foggy let out a deep, dejected sigh as his head fell back to rest along the trunk of the tree beside yours.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “And he won’t even see it coming.”

“Nope,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Because she’s perfect . She could never possibly do any wrong by him.”

“And in the end, we’ll be the ones left picking up all the shattered little broken pieces,” Foggy said. “Trying to piece our friend back together. Despite how he’s treated us for the duration of this relationship.”

Your eyes closed, the sting of tears once again returning. Because you knew Foggy was right. You’d still be there with him, helping Matt pick up the pieces of his heart that he willingly let Elektra smash to tiny bits.

Because, like the incredibly foolish idiot you were, you’d gone and fallen in love with him. And for some reason you were too stupid to just walk away.

“Yup,” you whispered, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “We’ll still be here. Doing what friends do.”

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