misstokyo7love - Tumblr blog

misstokyo7love · 13 days ago

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fuckboy

unnamed ppu character x f!reader | wc: 3.5 k | explicit, mdni

summary: you meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip.

warnings: filth, very dubious dub-con, drunk reader, her consent is questionable, gaslighting, manipulating, he's an insufferable fuckboy and needs to go to hell actually, he's a bad lay, unspecified but legal age gap, fingering, rough-ish unprotected PinV, creampie, petnames (baby, cockslut), dick+pussy pronouns, two ass smacks, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied

a/n: this bitch was supposed to be a tiny drabble. oops. inspired by this post. @iamasaddie, you wanted me to elaborate, here you go, i hope this tingles in adult ways, at least a little bit. thank you for your help with the header <3 and thank you @guiltyasdave for the same as always: everything (aka beta and unlimited support and love 💕)

The bar is brimming, buzzing, the bass vibrates through every single person in the room, raw dogging each one of them, one after another and all at the same time.

He looks ridiculous. Too old for a place like this, hideous but somehow sexy Hawaiian shirt, of course only buttoned up halfway to show off his toned chest and a gold chain necklace, and he wears sunglasses, indoors. Big violet mirrors, aviator shaped, hiding behind them. Hiding his intentions but they are oh so clear.

The guy purses his lips, eyebrows dancing, hips moving side to side and back to front, obviously a preview of what’s to be expected if someone hooks up with him.

It was the blondish-white strand in the otherwise dark hair that made you weak for him. You don't even know why. While the rest of the man screams ‘fuckboy’ the blonde strand purrs ‘baby boy’.

The strand looks so pretty, whenever the color of the lights changes, always tinted in red or orange or blue. The strand looks really pretty in the storage room, too. It begs to be touched and tugged.

So you do. You touch it and gently tug it while he touches your thighs and tugs on your panties. Then he tugs them aside and you whimper when he runs his thumb through your slit without a warning.

“How old are you exactly?” he rasps against your neck, licking your skin while his thumb searches for something. Your clit probably, you think and moan when he finds it for a moment.

“Old enough to drink alcohol,” you mutter and let your head fall back against the tiled wall. The turned over crates bite into the flesh of your ass, empty bottles rattle when he pulls you closer towards him.

“So you're old enough for this bad boy.” He grins at you, a stupid proud grin, and takes your hand away from his hair and guides it to the bulge in his jeans. When you don't start moving your hand, he does it for you, over the whole length and back. “You want him? Wanna see him? You do, right?”

His damp breath brushing your ear adds to the dizziness in your head. Your head is spinning a little from the music and the drinks. Spinning, just like his thumb, that is now circling close enough around your clit to finally feel good.

“I dunno,” you murmur and try to get your swimming mind to focus.

“That's not a no, baby. So you want him. I knew it.” His free hand fumbles with his zipper. The crates you're sitting on quake when he pulls down his jeans. And before you know it, you feel something in your palm. Smooth and hard and hot, heavy, jumping in your hand.

It’s not exactly what you signed up for earlier, when he paid for two of your drinks and sucked on your earlobe. When he said something about you being so cute and making out with him. Just kissing. I promise, baby. I know a place. And then he dragged you along with him into this crammed storage room that smells like booze and sweat.

You kissed, for a minute or so. But now you have his cock in your hand. You look down and his thumb swipes over your clit, making you moan and him twitch. Why do you have his cock in your hand? He feels so heavy and warm. He feels a bit good, actually.

His hand moves to cup your cunt, the ball of his thumb pressing against your sensitive nub and a nimble finger -or two?- is slipping into you and immediately back out. At least that's what it felt like, you're not sure. But you feel yourself clamp down on nothing, chasing what was there just a second ago. His tongue moves over your pulse and a whine escapes you.

“Oh, I know, baby, you like him, right?” He moves closer, trapping you between the cold wall and his warm body, between the plastic crate and his dick. A finger dips into your heat again, deeper now, deep enough for you to be sure about feeling him inside of you. This is definitely not just kissing, but it somehow feels good.

“Baby, she wants me. You feel it, too, right?” His tongue runs along your neck and to your ear, his hips buck and your fingers tighten around his cock. He’s so hard beneath all the hot smoothness.

His fingers are pushing in deeper now and you clench around him. “See? You want me. You're so wet, baby. You know that it means you want me.” He pulls his fingers out and presses them back in, matching his thrusts in your palm with the rhythm of fingering you.

You groan out a curse and start accepting your fate. Fine, then you're getting fingered in exchange for a few drinks. That's okay, he's not too bad at it. The thickness of his fingers is half the battle.

The small blonde strand is catching your attention and lures your hazy mind in. Baby boy. Your body already surrenders to his ministrations and you roll your hips, moaning when he slips in another fraction of an inch.

“Mhmm, jus' what I thought. Desperate, that's what you are. You want more? You feel good?”

You dumbly nod your head because all you're able to think about is the throbbing ache in your pussy and the smooth movement of his cock in your hand. Yeah, he makes you feel good. With a wet sound he pulls his fingers out again.

“I'll give you more then, if that's what you want.” He nudges your hand off his dick and grips himself at the base. “Baby, look. He's excited for you.”

You look between your bodies again and squint to get a clearer vision. Precum. He's leaking. There's a clear drop forming over his slit. No, this definitely is not just kissing. Your eyes meet his again and when you open your mouth to speak he shifts forward and wedges the fat head of his cock between your folds.

You're whining again, your hips bucking into the sensation. A moment of clarity forms between your dazed mind and your nudged clit: Fuck. Shit. No. You don't even know his name.

When you start squirming he grabs you by your waist, firmly but not painfully. He hums, sounding a bit strained now. Slowly, slowly his dick glides back and forth through your slit, pushing at your nub whenever he reaches it.

“Baby, what's the problem? It feels good, doesn't it?” His eyebrows dance and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. “God, you're so messy, listen.”

It's true, you can hear the squelching over the soft clinking of bottles in the crate whenever he guides himself all the way to your entrance, rubbing his shaft against you.

“Yeah, but…” You groan quietly when he moves his hips back and drag himself along your clit. “A condom. You have one?”

He just laughs and continues his movements through your slick folds.

“What would we need a condom for, hm, silly girl? They're just cuddling. She hugs him, baby, hugs him real tight.” He pushes his cock forward to your clenching hole, but never makes the final move, never dips in. Your mind tells you no, yet your body clearly wants it, to be fucked.

“And he likes her. Look, they're kissing.” He draws his hips back, cock in hand, and starts dabbing and tapping and burrowing the thick, plush tip against you. “Just making out, like us. That's okay, right? Kissing?”

He pushes deeper again, only to move back immediately. Back and forth, just his tip rubbing you, just the fat rim teasing and teasing and teasing your aching clit. It looks good, the way he appears and disappears again, all glistening.

“That's okay, yes,” you mutter breathily, trying to suppress another moan. He doesn't let up, keeps the slow rhythm of back and forth. God, you need his fingers again, he needs to numb the pulse inside of you.

“I know it's okay. Feels good, hm?” he whispers sweetly against your lips before flicking his tongue against your top lip. “She feels so good, baby… You like how he feels? Like how my cock feels?”

You nod your head again and meet his movements halfway, tilting your hips so you can feel him prod your entrance a little more. The emptiness inside starts hurting and you whimper with his lips ghosting yours. He smells of beer and body spray, all mixing together with a whiff of arousal.

“I need… I need…” you gasp out and try to grind against him as good as you can.

“You want me to stop? Is it too much?” His movements come to a halt and he pulls away slightly, grinning and hiding it behind a sweet little peck.

You squirm again, this time closer instead of away. One hand clutches his, the one he pumps himself with. You swallow, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. They taste like booze and beer.

“No, no, god, please. I need a lil' more?” You tug on him, trying to guide his hand back right up against your core.

“Oh, I'm not sure, baby…” He gives in a little bit and lets his leaking cock rest against your sensitive nub again. “You really want more of me? Of him?”

You tug more on his hand, frustrated with his hesitation. “Need you inside,” you groan and pull on his fingers, wanting them back in your aching cunt.

“Inside? Are you sure?” He lets you squeeze his fingers into the wetness of your slit, carefully letting his dick follow.

“Yes! Please,” you whine and let go of his hand when he prods you with a single digit. Thank fuck, you think.

“But jus’ the tip,” he murmurs almost apologetically.

Your question about what the hell he is talking about is knocked out of your brain the moment you feel a stretch that’s not coming from his fingers. He presses inside of you. Just the tip, like he said. Like you never meant it. But he stretches you so perfectly on the first inches that you can’t even protest. Until he withdraws himself again.

“That good, baby? That what you want? Say yes,” he pleas, his breath hot against your ear and you feel him shift again. His dick slides all the way through your slit to your clit and back, slowly pressing back into you again.

“Fuck, yes.” It feels good. Better than the aching. You just want to feel stuffed. Your forehead drops onto his shoulder and you whimper when he continues to sluggishly fuck you with his fat tip. “But… a condom?”

He sighs and when he pulls out he stops moving again, leaving you hanging and you pussy clenching desperately.

“This isn't even sex, baby. It's just. The. Tip.” He tilts your head up and looks at you over his stupid aviators. “Listen, we can stop if you don't want this. I'm doing this just for you. Because you asked me to. You wanted more, right? Wanted to feel good?”

Your head nods, maybe a little prompted by his fingers under your chin.

“See, there we have it. You want this and they're just making out. Tongue kissing.” He pushes back in and it feels better than before. But you can't really say if he’s in deeper? You don't care too much. Tongue kissing. It makes sense. “I'm just doing this for you, baby. Because you seem to need it so badly.”

He smiles a friendly and seemingly sincere smile while pulling out and pushing back into you, painfully slow. Like scratching an itch with nothing but a tickle.

“I really care about you, hm?” His whisper fleets to your ear when he drops your face back to his shoulder. The next shallow thrust makes him grunt and your pussy clamps down on him. He slips past the tight spot -accidentally probably?- and you feel full for a second. Filled and good and you want it again.

But he draws back again, moaning into the crook of your neck. “Sorry ‘bout that, baby. But you're so wet. Got a slip and slide pussy there.”

His hips roll and his tip nudges back into you. Again and again, until your fingers are clutching him and your body writhes towards him, desperate for more depth. The edge of the crate cuts into the meat of your ass, the bottles rattling with every small thrust.

There isn't much to it. In your hazy mind this thought appears like a beacon. He's been inside already. The damage is already done, nothing you could take back now. He could fuck you stupid instead of feeding you this sample sized version of sex.

He wedges his hard cock back into your hole and slips out again, leaving your cunt sopping and clenching and empty. You can feel your slick slowly running down your thighs. You rarely ever felt this horny, this desperate for a dick. It’s almost like he teases you on purpose.

“Fuck me,” you whine and command at the same time. “God, just fuck me.”

“You sure? I don't have a condom. Are you clean?”

You manage to scoff at his audacity but… maybe he wouldn't ask this if he wasn't clean himself? That's good. It's safe, somewhat safe.

“Of course I'm clean.” You want to sound confident and pissed off but your voice is whiny and morphs into a moan when he thrusts into you halfway.

“I'm trusting you then. Don't lead me on.” He sounds strained now, strangled, with your snug cunt squeezing him.

A handful more slow strokes and he's buried balls deep. Both of you pant, you because your aching gets soothed and he because you pulse around him. Your body tries to egg him on to fucking move, but he just stays still.

“Shit. She tight.” He lets out a single hoarse laughter before his hips buck just a little deeper into you and you swear he must be somewhere in your guts. “Christ, she’s gripping him.”

He pulls out, almost completely, and fills you back up with one harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” you moan and hook your legs behind his ass when the tower of crates beneath you starts shaking from the impact. And then he starts fucking you, hard. Fast. The bottles rattle rhythmically in time with his thrusts.

His hands dig into your hips when he grabs hard enough to feel your bones. He pulls you onto him, fucking himself with you.

He's not good per se, just slamming into you over and over again, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh pump. But he has a good sized cock, just an inch too long and a little too girthy. The stretching is never ending, the slight sting hurts just right, and his pelvis hitting your poor, swollen, teased clit is going to finish you sooner or later. You just feel so full. The way he stretches you out on his cock makes you dumb.

“You always do this?” He snarls, using the wobbling crate tower for more leverage. “Getting a guy to fuck you in the backrooms? You just need it that bad?” His thumb somehow finds your pulsing nub and he starts to rub it roughly until your legs quake around his waist from the stimulation.

“Oh… oh fuck…” Your nerve endings are on fire and your muscles twitch and clench. You clutch his arm, nails digging into his bicep when he won’t stop to harshly flick and rasp over your clit. Despite it all, you feel the familiar tug behind your navel. The heat is not building slowly, it’s approaching you violently.

“Don’t tell me you're close already, baby?” You see him grin before your eyes roll back, your vision turning black. “I thought I would be special. But you're just using me. Just want my cock.” He lets his hips snap into you, thrusting in too deep but in a good way. “Little cockslut.”

You whine, wanting to protest but you’re pinned down on the tilting crates, spread over this guy’s girth with your toes curling in your shoes. Complaining is the last thing on your mind.

“You gotta pull out.” Probably the only coherent thought you have left. You’re on birth control, but having this stranger’s cum dripping down your legs later when you're back with your friend?

“For real? A cockslut but not a cum dump? Such a rare breed, aren’t you?” His laughter sounds choked, breathless, the wet slapping of his slicked balls against your ass just as loud as his words. “I’ll pull out, don't worry, baby.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and plucks your leg off of his waist. Even though your muscles are already tense and twitching he straightens it out over his chest. “But first I’ll make you come on him.” Another hard hip snap and the changed angle makes you see twinkling stars on your retina when he hits you deeper. He grins down at you when you cry out your pleasure. “That's right, baby, let me hear you. Let the people hear that you're my little cockslut.”

His lips latch to your ankle that's resting on his shoulder and sucks on your skin as if he wants to brand you. And while he somehow manages to fuck you harder you wonder how many women in this bar have a hickey on their ankles.

And then you stop thinking. His thrusts turn sloppy, sweat forms on his forehead and runs down your leg and adds to your slick. “I’ll make you come so hard. You can feel it, right? Make you gonna black out on my cock, baby.” A nip to your ankle and then a smack on the side of your ass and your pussy starts clenching and choking on his girth. Still he keeps on fucking into you, struggling with how hard your muscles tighten around him.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

Your yelp makes him grip you tighter and with a last thrust you fall right over the edge. His moans ring in your ears when his hips stutter, but he keeps fucking you through it. Your spasming body is held securely in his arms, preventing you to hurt yourself on the wobbly crates.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Best pussy I ever fucked, I swear,” he hisses when his hips start stuttering. “Gonna make me fucking come. Gonna come for you. You want that?” He slams into you and somehow prolongs your orgasm with how he spreads your quaking cunt open over and over again. More of that, you want more of this orgasm.

So you nod your head and moan, trembling like the stacked bottles beneath your body. “Yes, I want that, please. Jus’ don’t stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass and he gives you a few last pumps before he pushes into and against you so hard that it makes you wince. Through the pulsing of your walls you feel him throbs and twitch, spitting out his cum so deep into you that you feel stuffed, really fucking stuffed. And it feels so good.

After a second he starts rolling his hips, letting himself be milked by your pussy until he finally and unceremoniously pulls out. He tilts his head, looking at his handiwork over the rim of his aviators. “Fuck yes. She’s so pretty like that, all wrecked.” The tip of his cock squeezes through your swollen and ruined slit once more, slipping into your gaping hole to draw another moan out of you. When he pulls out again some of his cum gets pushed out and starts running down to your ass.

“You… you didn’t pull out?” Despite your anger your body still vibrates and twitches.

“Couldn't. She gripped me too tight. It’s her fault,” he smirks and pets your mound. “But don't worry, I'm snipped, baby.”

He wipes himself dry with his hand, doing a poor job but he doesn't seem to care. Still half hard and sticky he stuffs his dick back into his boxers. “You want my number, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you hiss and search the storage room for some tissues.

“I knew you'd break my heart, baby,” he chuckles and watches you clean yourself. “But I really like you. You're special. Got a perfect pussy, too. Here, if you wanna use me again, I'm all yours.”

He pulls out something off his pocket, like a business card. No name or number printed on it. He puts it on a crate next to you before kissing your forehead. “God, baby, I think I’m in love with you,” he croons with a shit eating grin.

“Sure you are, fuck off.”

He lifts his hands and walks backwards until he reaches the door. “Gonna miss you.” He purses his lips, making a little kiss noise and disappears back into the bar.

You look over your own appearance and see the blank business card. When you turn it around you see it. A fucking QR code. A fuckboy with a QR code. Some more cum leaks into your pulled back panties and you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Fuck it.” You put his card into your bra. Stupid cockslut.

you liked this? that's alright, we are all filthy little animals here. commenting or reblogging is appreciated, thank you! <3

want more dub-con? maybe you like this short Dave York fic: tainted heart

find my general masterlist here

dividers: as always @/saradika-graphics

#ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #pedro pascal

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misstokyo7love · 14 days ago

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This is absolutely fantastic. Reader is fierce and feisty and challenges Dave pretty good. Can’t wait to see whats coming

Precious Possessions Series Master List

Series Summary: Work conferences were supposed to be boring. A Meeting with a mysterious man sets your life on a very different trajectory

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader, No physical description except reader has longish hair

Rating/Warnings:🔞 Under 18 do not enter🔞E is for Explicit! Sex, Violence, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Light BDSM, No use of Y/N EVER, EVER, EVER! Not beta'd, sorry!! All funky grammar and spelling stuff is my own fault

I will try my best to update this monthly.

UPDATED 04/15/2024

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #dave york x you

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misstokyo7love · 25 days ago

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Absolutely amazing challenge!

Seasons of Life Challenge Masterlist

(this is a great way to start the year and to get my brain out of holiday mode! thank you for hosting this @lady-bess and @berryispunk - and by extension @fanfictionoverload!) main masterlist | Seasons of Life Challenge Post

Winter: Day 1: Snow (January 1st) Day 2: Scarf(January 2nd) Day 3: Cozy (January 3rd) Day 4: Fireplace (January 4th) Day 5: Hot Chocolate (January 5th) Day 6: Freezing (January 6th) Day 7: Marshmallow (January 7th)

Spring: Day 1: Blossom (January 8th) Day 2: Spring Cleaning (January 9th) Day 3: Footpath (January 10th) Day 4: Rain (January 11th) Day 5: Book (January 12th) Day 6: Joy (January 13th) Day 7: Cake (January 14th)

Summer: Day 1: Tidalwave (January 15th) Day 2: Camping (January 16th) Day 3: Lake (January 17th) Day 4: Ice Cream (January 18th) Day 5: Heat (January 19th) Day 6: Heavenly (January 20th) Day 7: Aviators (January 21st)

Fall: Day 1: Leaves (January 22nd) Day 2: Puddle (January 23rd) Day 3: Rain Boots/ Wellingtons (January 24th) Day 4: Pie (January 25th) Day 5: Blanket (January 26th) Day 6: Melancholy (January 27th) Day 7: Pumpkin (January 28th)

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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This is absolutely amazing! Cowboy Joel Miller

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part one

wc: 12.5k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: rebuilding your life, chasing cans, and hitchin’ a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

to my pedrostories secret santa recipient @katiexpunk: this was a challenge for ya gurl to be srs (and it’s not a tentacle gangbang, i lied in ur asks babe i’m srry) i hope i hit the mark on a handful of the prompts though, i had high hopes that i could really challenge myself and deliver some breeding kink cowboy but i fear it’s more of a creampie kink—i hope that still hits, i have horse knowledge, but only rodeo adjacent experience so if any rodeo queens find glaring mistakes pls forgive me — but happy holidays bb, i really hope you enjoy-- EDIT: I MADE IT TOO GIRTHY (or something?? sorry!!) and had to split it into two parts, the second part will be up and linked as asap as possible, and i'll add the full text to ao3 so it'll be in one spot

tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, guilty yearnful joel, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin’ that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta–mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am

thanks: to @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, ideas, etc.

The sun beats down on the gravel driveway as you pull your truck toward the old house. It looks almost the same as it did the summers you spent here as a kid when it was your grandparents–the peeling white paint on the porch railing, and the barn standing sturdy, but weathered further down the driveway. The fields stretched on as you rolled down the driveway, dotted with occasional wildflowers and critters dashing into the denser brush.

The air blows warm through the window, same as you remember, but the weight of the memories feels different now. The summers used to feel endless here, the fields seemed endless, as did the sky. It all used to feel so liberating. It’s not an endless summer now. Everything looks smaller and more weathered.

Except for the shiny white PVC fences on the other side of the driveway and the modern-looking house and barn built on the same soil you used to spend hours patrolling with your pony, Clover. She’d search for the best bits of grass as you laid across her back coming up with stories—some days you were an old-timey cowgirl traveling west or Clover was a wild horse you were training or you were on a quest to a magical kingdom together.

But now it’s a new home for whoever bought up the parceled land your dad sold to cover the updates on the house when he inherited it. Someone with enough money for a fancy barn and shiny truck. You pull to a stop and hop out of the cab, still scanning the neighbor's property, making your first impression.

Your dad emerges from the barn, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He gives you a smile and a nod. “About time you showed up,” he calls, his voice warm and teasing. “Thought maybe you had changed your mind.”

You shake your head softly, rolling your eyes. “Nope. Nothing worth staying in that city for.”

The gravel crunches under your boots as you round the bed to grab one of your boxes. All your belongings fit into a few boxes. At least, everything that mattered to you, everything that was still you. “Where do you want this?” You wonder how you’re going to manage living in the same house with your dad now that you’re an adult.

“Just set it inside,” he said, gesturing to the house. “We’ll get you sorted after we have something to eat.”

As you followed him toward the house, the outline of the neighbor's property loomed large. The barn caught your eye. It was close. A pair of horses stood in the near pasture, swishing their tails in the afternoon heat. The contrast was stark. Where your dad’s place still carried the scrapes and scuffs of decades–theirs looked new and polished. Smug even. Can a house be smug?

“The neighbors are closer than I thought.” You cross the porch, the nostalgic screen door squeaking as your dad ushers you inside.

“Don’t mind it. We look out for each other.” He points to the room you stayed in as a kid. “He damn near built the place by himself, and helped me with the new roof on this place.”

You shoot him a sharp look. “You said you were gonna hire roofers instead of climbing around up there at your age.” He shrugs you off. Always stubborn. Convinced he can do it better and cheaper. Despite the toll on his body.

“Paid him to help,” he argues, “wasn’t up there by myself. You don’t gotta worry about me like that.”

You set your box down at the end of the twin-size bed, the room falling quiet for a moment. Your dad stays planted in the doorway, but his brows pinch and lips purse briefly before he lets out a breath. You scan the room, gaze landing on the floorboards, waiting.

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he says, “You hungry?”

You grin at that, letting out a shaky breath. Your father’s daughter, neither of you likes to dig into your feelings. He taught you to show love through actions, like keeping you fed, taking on hard labor jobs without a complaint, or changing your windshield wipers before the rainy season starts and you’re cursing yours out.

“Yeah,” you say, brushing past the knot in your chest. “Starving.”

The rumble of a diesel engine jolts you awake the next morning, the deep growly sound reverberating through the walls like thunder on an otherwise quiet morning. You groaned, stretching and blinking blearily at the pale light filtering in through the old curtains. It was barely dawn yet, which explains the dull headache you’ve got.

Sleep had been restless. Tangled thoughts, ruminating on what you’d left behind. A failed engagement, the job you hated, the mix of excuses you had rehearsed for why you’d come back. You’d hoped coming here would ease the ache, but just when you were finally falling back asleep—the truck from hell pulled up to the house.

The engine is already cut off, but now you can hear voices on the porch. Your dad’s, low and steady, just a hum, and another unfamiliar drawl. Whoever it is, they’re carrying on like the rest of the world wasn’t still trying to wake up.

You drag yourself out of bed, wearing your soft sleep shorts and a thin shirt. The worn fabric clings to your body in places it shouldn’t, but you’re not thinking about being presentable, you aren’t really thinking at all yet. You drag your feet crossing to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee, for a brief moment you miss the coffee shop you used to stop at on the way to your old job, but the familiar roast your dad’s been loyal to has its charm. Like the free coffee at an AA meeting. It’s there and you need something to keep you going.

You push past the squeaky screen door, stepping out onto the porch. Your dad sits on the worn bench, coffee in hand. Next to him, leaning casually against the railing is a man you don’t recognize. His black Stetson gives him a classic cowboy silhouette, the morning sun catches on the sharp cut of his jaw and the scruff on his cheeks. His plaid shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, his jeans are worn and dusty in a way that speaks to more than just appearances.

He straightens when he sees you, pulling his hat off with one hand in a fluid, effortless motion. “Mornin’,” he says, voice low and rich. “You must be the daughter. Joel Miller.”

You take a sip of your coffee. “Morning,” you mutter, voice still thick from sleep. “You always roll up this early, or is today special?”

Your dad shoots a look at you, but Joel just chuckles softly.

“Guessin’ you’re not a morning person?”

Your eyes are narrow, defensive. “I’m just fine in the mornings,” you say in a clipped tone that doesn’t support your statement. “Just not when I’m woken up by a jet engine at the asscrack of dawn.” The chill in the brisk morning air causes you to shiver for a moment somehow making you look more irritated.

Joel glances at your dad with a faint smirk before tipping his hat to you. “Noted.”

Your dad laughs. “Should’ve heard her when she was ten,” he says leaning back. “Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Still doesn’t take shit from anyone I guess.”

“I’m right here,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Just sayin’,” your dad replies, raising his mug in mock surrender. He turns back to Joel and they resume their conversation about fence posts or something equally riveting. You let your eyes roam as you wake up, drinking the rest of your coffee, tuning in and out of their conversation about their plans for the day.

The easy camaraderie between the two of them was clear. Like a friendship forged through shared labor and quiet mornings. They flow between their plans for work and that subtle gossiping that men do–convinced it isn’t really gossip–as they share updates about other folks in town and a few of the local businesses.

“What about you?” Joel asks, turning to you and pulling you out of the fog. “You’re back for a while then?”

It’s an innocent question, but it grates at you anyway. You stiffen. “Yeah, just taking some time,” you say vaguely.

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push for a real answer. You can feel the weight of his curiosity in the air between you. He looks to your dad, who doesn’t elaborate, letting something unspoken pass between them.

“Well,” Joel drawls, “good timing. Lot of work to do this time of year. If you’re up for it.”

The comment makes you pull a face. “I’m familiar with hard work,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended.

Joel’s lips quirk again, into something like a smirk this time. “I’m sure you are,” he says with the faintest edge of a challenge.

He takes a long swig from his stainless steel travel mug, trying to fix his eyes on the horizon. But damn, if it isn’t a challenge to see you standing there, looking every bit like you’d just rolled out of bed. In a shirt too damn thin for a morning like this, leaving too little to the imagination.

He knew he shouldn’t be noticing something like that, shouldn’t look at you like that–especially not while you’re standing next to your dad. Hell, he shouldn’t want to look at all, but his eyes betray him. Darting for just a moment to your soft curves and the evidence of the chill in the air–the impression of your stiff nipples protruding in the soft fabric.

Christ. He swallows hard, landing his eyes back on the scowl you wear on your face. You’re his friend's daughter. It just ain’t right. Sweet young thing like you. He battles the devil on his shoulder that reminds him you aren’t a kid. You’re a woman. A grown woman with your own life and clearly your share of grit, if the sharpness in your voice was anything to go by.

He shifts on his feet, forcing his attention back to your dad who was still chuckling softly at something. Joel didn’t catch the joke, head too full of thoughts about you–or how to not think about you. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, unsettling him in front of your dad.

You and him made loose plans for the day while Joel’s mind continued to wander. He shouldn’t have asked about why you were back. Your answer was vague, brushing him off like it was a privilege he hadn’t earned. For some reason that lodged it in his head further. He wanted to know more, even if he shouldn’t.

Your dad stood up, stretching and declaring that all of you have work to do. You take that as your cue to head back inside, leaving the screen door swinging behind you. Joel lets out a low breath, shaking his head as he turns back to your dad.

“She’s a spitfire,” Joel comments, keeping his tone neutral.

“She is,” your dad agrees, adjusting his hat. “Good to have her back.”

Joel huffs a small laugh, “S’pose we could use a strong woman around here. Keep us in line.”

“No doubt she will,” your dad says, clapping him on the shoulder. The whole exchange stuck with Joel though. Something under that edge of yours, something unpolished that has him curious in a way he isn’t used to. He shakes his head knowing it isn’t his place to go digging.

Your dad starts down the front steps. “Let’s get moving, then.” Joel moves mechanically, boots falling in line with your dad’s, but his mind is half on you—in that t-shirt, with that scowl on your face, and that faraway look that he’d like to unravel.

You were used to hard work but your muscles weren’t exactly dialed in for the functional conditioning. It was humbling as you found yourself aching and exhausted by the end of the night. However, the fatigue did make it easier to fall asleep once your head hit the pillow instead of spiraling on about your failures until the birds started chirping.

The next few days gave you a jump start into the rural routine. In bed early, up before the sun. Hot showers before dinner to wash away the layer of sweat and sweet-smelling dust from the pine shavings and hay. You found yourself looking forward to the strong coffee and the cool morning air before you started with your day.

Your dad, and Joel, learned quickly to let you wake up rather than ask questions as they caught up on their plans before heading out together or splitting up. You didn’t mind listening, but you could feel Joel’s eyes lingering on you now and then. It made your spine straighten, determined to hide the sore muscles in your shoulders from him. If he was waiting to hear a complaint from you it was never gonna come.

Despite getting more rest and having an endless list of labor to keep you moving–you often found yourself working solo and in silence during the day. A silence that your mind was more than happy to fill. You rehashed memories and dissected those little moments from your relationship with your ex-fiance that you wish you had seen more clearly at the time.

You’re deep in one of those memories, mindlessly stacking bales of hay onto the trailer for a delivery your dad is making tomorrow when Joel enters the other end of the barn. He leans against the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you work. The warm scent of hay fills the air, grounding and everpresent in his life.

It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a common chore he’d do without thinking twice. But watching you was a whole different story. Your shirt was damp with sweat as you leaned into the work like you’d done it your whole life. You climb up a stack of bales and toss down some from the top of the next row, unaware of his presence.

He is mesmerized by you. The sharp look on your face like you were mulling over an argument, the fluid movements as you worked, and the determination radiating off of you as you worked at an urgent pace.

His gaze drifts lower as you climb down and bend to heave another bale onto the flatbed trailer. The muscles in his jaw tense as he lingers on the curve of your back as you bend to grab another. The way your legs shift as you work. The outline of your body in that shirt, the soft grunt you let out as you hoist another bale had him thinking indecent thoughts before he could stop himself.

Joel drags his hand over his face, fingers brushing his scruffy jaw. Heat burning within him that has nothing to do with the Texas sun transforms into irritation. He was considering copping out and disappearing before you even noticed him when he was outed by the damn barn cats.

The orange cat comes sprinting towards him, but it’s the black and white one meow-yelling at him down the aisle that catches your attention. A dull thud echoes through the barn as you drop another bale and watch as Joel squats down to give the cats the attention they demand. You watch, catching your breath. He’s gentle with them, murmuring something you can’t hear before he stands and strolls toward you.

“Afternoon,” he greets you in his deep baritone voice. Joel grabs the two-string bale of hay in front of you and drops it on the trailer with ease, grabbing another before you can interject.

“I can handle it.” You huff as you resume your task.

“Never said you couldn’t,” he replies smoothly, setting another down. “Thought it’d go faster with two sets of hands.”

“I wasn’t in a hurry.” You eye him warily for a moment before slipping into a coordinated dance like it was natural. Tossing the rest that needed to be loaded up into the aisle for him to grab. You work in silence, just the sounds of hay shifting and boots scuffing against the barn floor.

You break the silence first. “Dad says you and your brother hit the rodeo circuit in the summer. That true?”

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

“Team roping,” he says, his voice warming slightly. “Me and Tommy hit most of the circuits within a day's drive from here. Keeps us outta trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “Hard to picture you in trouble, cowboy.”

Joel’s smirk returned, faint but there. “You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” He matches your playful tone.

His words linger as you work, stirring something you don’t quite know what to do with. Your mind drifts to the idea of rodeoing, the adrenaline of it, the discipline it demands. You forgot how much you missed it, how much you gave up chasing a life that didn’t pan out the way you hoped.

Joel shifts beside you, the faint scrape of his boots pulling you back to the present. You glance at him, catching the way his shirt clung slightly to his back, the easy strength in the way he moves.

For a moment, the quiet feels comfortable. Easy. The steady rhythm fills the space. But eventually, Joel speaks again.

“Your dad said you used to spend summers out here,” he says, in a low and easy tone.

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath from the exertion. “When I was a kid.”

Joel brushes some loose hay off of his shirt. “Guessin’ it’s different now.”

“Everything’s different now,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

His brow furrows slightly. “What brought you back?”

You hesitate, not looking him in the eye. You’re searching for an answer in the dust particles caught in a beam of sunlight. “Just needed time to…rebuild.” It’s still vague.

“You runnin’ from something?”

You tense at that, before covering it in sarcasm. “I’m not an outlaw,” you jest, earning you a small smile. He doesn’t press further, but you feel his eyes on you, steady, and patient like he’s waiting in case you offer more.

“It’s not as simple as people make it sound,” you say finally, the words slipping out before can stop them. “Starting over, that is.” You sit on a bale and pull your work gloves off, running the back of your hand over your forehead smearing sweat and dust in a most unsatisfying way.

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly.

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten, but you ignore the sensation. “What about you? How’d you end up here?”

“Had to start over myself, I reckon,” he muses, dusting off his hands before sitting down next to you. The words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he watches the cats play with a piece of baling twine. “This place made it easier—focusing on getting the house built and getting the business running. Your dad helped too.”

That catches you off guard. “My dad?”

Joel nods, finally meeting your eyes. “Just seemed to understand, I guess.”

You stare at him. You’re disarmed by the softness in his tone. Like there’s more beneath the surface if you ask for it.

Joel feels the air thicken. He takes in the way your sweat-damp shirt clings to you, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. For a split second, an image flashes in his mind—your chest heaving for a very different reason, your skin flushed and shining. His throat tightens, and he looks away quickly, cursing himself for letting his thoughts slip.

The cats weave between your legs, easing the silence. But the air between you still feels charged. Your thighs are nearly touching. The proximity feels overwhelming for some reason and you're suddenly caught up in the details of his profile as he stares down at the floor. The lines at the corner of his eye, his nose, his lips.

He clears his throat and slaps a palm on his thigh. “Well,” he starts, standing up rather abruptly. “Just came by to check-in. See how you’re settling in.”

“What?” You frown. You miss the grimace that flashes on his face, your eyes drawn to the cats darting away from the two of you. “How I’m settling in?”

“Yeah, you know…” he gestures vaguely around the barn and your brows furrow and your eyes sharpen at him. Irritation flickers behind your eyes.

“I told you I’m not afraid of hard work,” you snap, jumping to your feet in front of him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, like you’re misunderstanding him.

“Did my dad send you to ‘check in’ on me? Or did you want to see if I could keep up?”

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly.

“Right.” You cut, crossing your arms. You’re over this rollercoaster of a conversation. Your eyes catch on the deep crease between his brows and the glint in his dark eyes. Something flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s indignation or something else entirely. “Then what is it?”

His jaw tightens, gaze locked with yours. Something unspoken flickers in his expression. But instead of answering, he straightens, stepping back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says curtly.

Your stomach twists at the coolness of his tone, the connection you just felt snapping like a wire.

“This was a mistake,” Joel mutters to himself.

“What was?” you asked, your voice deadly quiet.

Joel only shakes his head before striding toward the far door. His boots echo on the floor and the cats follow after him like shadows, their tails swishing as they dart out into the sun. Joel pauses in the doorway, glancing back with a look you don’t understand.

“Don’t work too hard now.” His voice carries easily before he stalks off.

Your thoughts have you spinning. “The fuck is his problem?” you wonder out loud, sharp in the warm air. In the space he left.

But deep down, you can feel the edge of something else. Something more than frustration, curling low and unwelcome in your chest. The weight of his gaze was still lingering, and try as you might, you can’t ignore the way his presence had pressed into every corner of the barn, or the faint scent of leather and bourbon that still hangs in the air.

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you.

Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

If you’re honest, though, despite your hostility, you seem to catch yourself studying him with the same frequency and intensity. You’re loath to admit you catch yourself hung up on his obnoxiously broad shoulders, his arms sculpted from the physically demanding work, and that gravelly morning voice he has before he finishes his coffee.

Aside from whatever Joel’s problem with you is, everything else seems to be falling into place. You catch up on your dad’s list of projects. You pick up a part-time job at the feed store in town, keeping yourself too busy to have idle time and too tired to dwell on the past or the future. You get to know folks in the town while you work at the register.

The town seems smaller than it was when you were a kid, but there’s also a charm in the simplicity that you find comfort in. The regulars keep you up to date on the town gossip, and you’re laughing loudly with your boss, Linda, one day over a joke she’d never admit to teaching you when your neighbor struts up to you with a list in hand for a bulk feed order.

You’re cordial to him and the man at his side who gives you a flirty wink that has you raising your eyebrows in disbelief for a moment before you put it together. “You must be Tommy?”

He grins brightly and offers his hand. “And you must be the neighbor?” You give him your name and a polite smile. Your eyes flick to Joel, taking in his neutral expression. His hands rest in his pockets, but his posture is loose, his broad shoulders back in a way that draws your eye before you can stop yourself.

As you enter the details of their order into the prehistoric computer, Linda chats both of the men up, asking them about their horses and when their next rodeo is.

You give Joel his total and take his payment, trying not to roll your eyes when he doesn’t make eye contact with you. You’re ready for the interaction with him to be over when Linda puts you on the spot.

“This one’s been talking about looking for a project horse of her own.” She nods her head toward you. “You boys have any leads for her?”

You can feel your face heating up as they both look at you. It’s not like it was a secret, but you weren’t planning on making Joel privy to your plans. You still haven’t forgotten the way he said this was a mistake after having one conversation with you. Or the way he is always looking at you. Like you don’t belong here or something.

“I’ll do you one better,” Tommy says. “We’ve got a couple of colts just getting started under saddle. They could use the miles, and they’re real sweet-tempered if you wanna come by during the week.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” You give him a genuine smile. “I’m actually going to take a look at one that’s got potential this weekend. Marilyn from the post office said her cousin’s got a six-year-old quarter horse she’d sell for a steal.”

Joel lets out a dismissive laugh under his breath. “You mean that Hancock gelding? The blue roan?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, slowly growing more confused by the reactions on all of their faces. “Why?”

Linda’s mouth is hanging open like you said the devil was gonna sell you his horse. Tommy gives you a modest smile like you’ve told him two plus two equals eight, but he’s too polite to correct you. Joel’s expression remains unreadable, but the crease between his brows deepens.

“Am I missing something?” you ask, hoping for an explanation. You do not like feeling like you’re being played for a fool.

“She’d sell that horse for a dime and a handshake,” Linda says. “Her cousin broke her jaw getting bucked off that horse. That’s why he’s been out to pasture ever since.”

You’re quiet for a beat before the familiar challenge and determination wrap around your heart. “Can’t hurt to look,” you say with a shrug.

“Hancocks are notoriously stubborn and broncy,” Joel adds, his tone low and edged with warning.

“They’re also incredibly smart, loyal, and full of try if you earn their trust and ask ‘em the right way,” you shoot back, meeting his eyes for just a moment too long. Why does it always feel like he thinks you’re out of your element? Does he think you’re incompetent? It only strengthens your desire to prove him wrong.

Joel’s mouth presses into a thin line, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and it stirs something uncomfortable low in your chest.

“So I’ve heard,” Tommy cuts the tension simmering between you and Joel. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t work out.”

“Thanks.” You pointedly direct your appreciation to Tommy, not looking back at Joel. “We’ll give you a call when the order’s in.”

They take that as their signal to move along. You think that would be the end of the drama for the day, but Linda’s got one more tidbit in store after the door closes behind the two men.

“God, those two are so hot it’s unbearable,” she sighs. It catches you off guard, and you blink at her. “Too bad they’re cowboy Casanovas.”

“What?” You give her a scrupulous look, shifting on your feet as she leans against the counter.

“Oh, yeah,” Linda says with a knowing smirk. “Every buckle bunny in a three-county radius knows those two. I hear they have a sign-up sheet at the trailer.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, but the image comes unbidden—Joel, shirtless and panting, sweat glistening on his chest, his jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle taut as he leans over some woman. His gravelly drawl slides through your mind like warm honey as he murmurs something low and dirty, but you can’t make out the words. Your thought derails violently, and you scowl at yourself, heat rushing up your neck, but Linda’s still talking.

“I’d stand in line for either of ‘em if I were single,” she adds with a shrug.

The image morphs into smug Joel tipping his hat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as some random woman climbs out of his bed. Your throat tightens unexpectedly, and you shove the thought away, scowling at the knot of irritation it leaves behind.

The trailer rocks faintly as you haul it slowly down the driveway toward the barn. Blue shifts inside, and the loud thud of him pawing at the floor, anxious to get out of the small space, echoes loudly in the driveway as you ease to a stop. You cut the engine and hop out of the cab, you can hear your dad’s boots on the porch steps before he’s striding toward you. “You actually brought him home, huh?”

“You knew I would.” You grin. Your dad unlatches the trailer door and you slip past the divider to untie your new gelding and back him out of the trailer. Blue’s ears flick rapidly and he snorts like a dragon, wary of his unfamiliar surroundings, but you steady him with a calm voice and wait for him to drop his head before coaxing him backward.

His hooves hit the solid ground and he blows out a sharp breath, shaking his neck to de-stress. “He’s gonna be perfect,” you say, running a hand along his neck. “Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Your dad gives you a look that says he knows he couldn’t change your mind if he tried. His gaze flicks over Blue’s body, taking in his confirmation and conditioning, the scar on his back leg, the brand on his flank, and the stocky ranch horse build. “Linda said he’s got a bad reputation.”

“Linda says a lot of things,” you shoot back, leading Blue toward the barn. “He was misunderstood. Had a rough start, that’s all. That girl who got bucked off never shoulda had him to begin with—not after he’d been out to pasture for so long. She was scared, and he felt it.”

Your dad hums, the kind of sound that tells you he’s skeptical but not enough to argue. “Well, he’s in good hands now.”

“And we both know I like a challenge,” you say with a steady voice, edged with something sharper.

The sound of boots on gravel draws your attention and you glance back to see Joel strolling over from the direction of his property. His hat tipped low as his dark eyes flick between you and Blue.

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth.

Your dad turns and gives him a nod. “Joel.”

“That the Hancock gelding?”

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, adjusting Blue’s halter.

Joel steps closer, his expression unreadable as he studies the gelding. Blue swishes his tail before shifting his weight, resting one back leg like he’s already starting to relax. Joel walks a circle around Blue, before pausing next to your dad. “Well-built,” he comments. “Is he sound?”

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection?

Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn.

Joel watches the two of you walk off, resting his hand on his hip. “She got a death wish or somethin’?” he grumbles.

Your dad crosses his arms, both men still watching the barn door where the two of you disappeared. “She’s tougher than she looks. And she’s got more patience than the two of us combined—for animals that is. Lord knows she’ll let us have it just for looking at her sideways.”

Joel grunts, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck at the thought of you telling him off. “Hope you’re right.”

“It’ll be good for her to have her own project. Haven’t seen that light in her eyes since she got here. S’about time she started moving on.” Your dad’s words eat at Joel. He still wants to know what you’re trying to rebuild from, but he doesn’t ask. Letting the silence stretch before your dad continues.

“Plus, she’s got the right touch for it,” your dad drawls, tone laced with pride. “Always drawn to the ones that seem a little rough around the edges.”

Joel doesn’t respond right away. His eyes narrow on the horizon, but his gaze flicks back to where you walked off, the sway of your hips lingering longer than it should. The deeply twisted interpretation of your dad’s words messing with his mind.

In the barn, Blue seems less concerned about getting the lay of the land now that there’s food in front of him. He munches greedily, tearing hay out of the net tied in the stall. You’re buzzing with a mix of emotions, already imagining the next steps for the two of you.

Your thoughts fall back on Joel and your dad, their low voices carrying faintly in the warm air. You can picture Joel still standing there, one hand on his hip, eyes fixed on you, that infuriatingly unreadable look expression he always has.

Your chest tightens, heat rising in your cheeks as you lean against the stall door. You hate how Joel looks at you like that. Like he’s waiting for you to fuck up. To prove him right. Like he’s already decided you’re in over your head.

“He doesn’t know me,” you mutter under your breath, “doesn’t know you,” you tell Blue, “doesn’t know shit.”

Blue snorts softly, and you take that as his agreement, a smile tugging at your lips.

Days blur into a steady rhythm—early mornings with Blue, afternoons at the feed store, and long evenings under the arena lights. Each ride sharpens your connection with him, his turns growing tighter, his strides more confident. Progress comes in small, steady victories, each one lighting a spark of hope in your chest.

One afternoon, when the sun hangs low in the sky, painting the fields with warm hues of orange and gold. From his spot near the fence of his own property, Joel leans one arm against the top rail, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes. Across the way, you’re working with Blue in the makeshift round pen.

Joel can tell from the way you hold yourself that you’re tired. Your shoulders seem stiff and your jaw tense. But you don’t stop. Your voice carries in the breeze, warm and steady as you encourage Blue to make another pass.

The horse resists, throwing his head and stomping at the ground, but you don’t flinch. You give him the space to settle before asking again. Joel’s lips twitch, with a hint of a smile. You’ve got grit.

He can’t shake the feeling that you’re working off more than just the horse’s rough edges. You move with purpose and focus, but with a weight that doesn’t seem entirely about Blue.

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist.

Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself.

Blue gives in, his steps evening out as he settles into a steady rhythm circling you. Joel watches as you slow him to a halt. The tension in your posture releases and you reach out with ease and satisfaction to stroke Blue’s neck.

That invisible pull between you draws your eyes to where Joel is standing. Your face hardens when you catch him observing your training session. He gives you a nod before pushing off the rail and heading into the barn.

He catches glimpses of you working together in the mornings and evenings. He tries to stop himself from watching, but it’s useless. He catches himself inadvertently timing out his schedule to be able to keep an eye on you. Tells himself he wants to be sure someone’s keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Or that he’s curious about your progress.

He can admit he admires your perseverance and the skill you have. He would never admit the way he finds himself waking up hard and aching thinking about you and what it’d feel like to have your hips rocking on his lap instead of a saddle, your tits bouncing in his face, and your sweet blissed out smile. And when trudges up the steps of your porch in the mornings to see if your dad needs anything from town—he prays neither of you can see the remnants of his sins in his eyes.

He can’t stop himself from trying to talk to you, though. One morning he asks straight up, “How’s the project horse coming along?” He tries to sound casual, averting his eyes as he sips his coffee.

Your smile flickers, equal parts excitement and hesitation flashing across your face. “Good,” you say after a beat, sitting on the wooden bench. “He learns quick, got good stamina and drive.”

Joel hums, tilting his head slightly. “He give you any trouble?”

Your jaw tenses, though you try to hide it. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply, tightly.

Joel nods. “Good,” he says simply, but he still looks at you, like there’s something else weighing on his mind.

Your dad clears his throat, breaking the tension. “She’s got him started on the pattern already.”

“You gonna run barrels?” Joel asks, curiosity sneaking into his eyes.

“That’s the plan.”

Joel hums, taking a long pause. “You wanna run him in a real arena? Bring him over to get some practice in with the right kind of footing and see what he’s really got for a motor?”

Your eyes narrow and your shoulders tighten, straining with disbelief. A real arena? It’s like nothing you do is ever good enough for him. “We’re getting along just fine as is, thanks.” The words are dripping with venom as you slip back into the house letting the screendoor slam shut behind you.

Joel’s brows furrow. “Didn’t mean no harm, by it,” he says to your dad. “My mistake,” he adds gruffly.

Your dad looks a bit miffed at the sharpness of your rejection but gives Joel a shrug back. “She’s always gotta do it her own way.”

The conversation with Joel sticks in your mind. You’re still chewing it over that evening as you run Blue through some drills, working on his lead changes and corners. When you finally bring him down to walk to cool down you hear the sound of hooves hitting the dirt across the field. Sharp and rhythmic. You walk Blue along the fence line. Pausing when you catch sight of Joel and Tommy in their outdoor arena.

Their horses move like extensions of their bodies. You loosen the reins, letting Blue’s head sway with every step as you stay transfixed on the two men. Tommy’s bay gelding moves with a quick, snappy stride. His hindquarters tucked under him as he spins on a dime at Tommy’s commend. You can feel the thrill and see Tommy’s grin from where you sit. It’s infectious. You roll your eyes as he tosses his rope catching the dummy steer in a single fluid motion.

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel.

He’s riding his big red mare, her muscles rippling in the sun as she powers forward at a lope. Joel’s hand is steady on the reins, his posture relaxed but exact. Every movement he makes is calculated, and deliberate, yet to an untrained eye seems completely natural and fluid. Like he and his horse were born to do it. He barely shifts to ask the mare to pivot. Her body arcs beautifully, bending around his leg as they make a sharp turn toward the roping dummy.

You’ve seen good riders before, but there’s something different about the way works. He doesn’t just ride—he leads. Every muscle he moves is a quiet conversation between him and his horse. It’s seamless and controlled. And damn if it isn’t mesmerizing.

He leans forward slightly, and your mouth goes dry watching his arm flexing as he tosses the rope with precision. His red mare halts instantly, kicking up dirt around her hooves. Joel adjusts his hat with a smooth motion, you can see the focus on his face. Serious and competitive.

You swallow hard as you change directions, still walking on a loose rein very aware that Blue’s sweat is long dried by now. You feel warmth burning in your core that has nothing to do with your tired muscles. He looks good out there. Too good. The kind of good that makes you think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your eyes drift, taking in the way his jeans hug his thighs, the line of his back as he shifts in the saddle. You imagine his hands, thick, precise fingers. Something coils hot and tight within you. You shake your head at yourself. You are not having those thoughts about Joel Miller who thinks you don’t know your ass from your elbow. You swing your leg over the back of the saddle dropping to your feet. Loosening your cinch and still trying to shake your thoughts out of your mind when you hear Tommy hollering at you.

“Watch and learn, neighbor!” Tommy calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You glance up, cheeks burning as Tommy tips his hat your way with his charismatic grin. Joel follows his gaze, dark eyes locking on you for a moment. Tommy gives you a demonstration of his prowess with the rope–as if you hadn’t been watching–but, Joel says nothing before turning his mare and heading in the opposite direction.

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine.

You walk back to the barn, and the sound of their horses fades behind you, but that image of Joel sears into your mind. His commanding and maddeningly attractive exhibition just stoked a fire you’re desperate to ignore.

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees.

You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo.

The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt.

You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor.

Something ugly simmers in your blood and your chest feels tight. You attribute it to irritation, refusing to acknowledge any alternate reasons. You’re going to prove him wrong.

You’re still staring at him when he turns to say something to the man standing next to him. You grit your teeth. Superstitious–as every cowboy is–his usual salt and pepper scruff is neatly trimmed, he’s got on a pair of deep blue Wranglers–nicer than you figure he owned, and a crisp long-sleeve pearl snap. Dressed to earn Lady Luck’s favor.

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests.

Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye.

Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

The woman reaches to touch him again, and you feel a headache brewing in the back of your skull. Joel glances away from her, landing in your direction for the shortest moment, before his weight shifts and he takes a small step back. You scowl again, tossing your brush back into the tack room shelf with more force than necessary making Blue toss his head. Your heart thuds louder than it should and you run a hand over Blue’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm both him and yourself. When you glance back, the woman is still talking, but Joel’s looking at you again. His dark eyes are sharp under the brim of his hat. He nods, barely noticeable, before turning away from the woman entirely. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before loading Blue back into the trailer to head out. You weren’t sticking around to watch any of the other events. Especially not the team roping.

You smile when you pull onto the highway. You count the day as a success and feel ready to enter a bigger rodeo. The idea makes you glow. Finally feeling like you’re getting back to your true self. You feel like a new woman compared to the version of you that showed packed up her truck desperate to put miles between your ex-fiance and your corporate nightmare.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, crossing your arms as your dad leans against the truck with a skeptical look. “The hell it’s not,” he replies, gesturing toward the trailer. “That’s floor is one step away from dropping your horse onto the damn highway.” You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. “I know,” you grumble lowly, disappointment sinking in your stomach. “I was just hoping you’d see something I didn’t.” “Sorry kid,” your dad says. “S’fine. I’ll figure something out. Or just eat the entry fees I paid.” “Or,” he says pointedly, “you could ask Joel.” You glare at him, fire burning in your chest. “I don’t need his charity.” “Ain’t charity,” he interrupts your sour attitude with a gruff tone. “He’s practically family. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.” The words stick, heavy and uncomfortable. You’ve got half a mind to keep arguing. Joel might be your dad’s best friend, but he’s nothing like family to you. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re dragging yourself up the steps of Joel’s front porch.

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though.

It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating on the porch. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.”

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. The gleam in his eye makes you want to say never mind. You brace for a smart-ass remark. “‘Course,” he replies. You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “Of course?”

He leans back into the house to grab something, then he’s handing you his keys. “Load your tack up tonight, and get your bags in the living quarters.” “No need,” you shake your head, leaving him holding the keys between you. “I’ve got the truck. And a tent.”

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You pointedly avoid how his sleeves strain around his biceps. “You’re ridin’ with us. Not riskin’ that truck dyin’ on the highway.” You glare, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, you’ve got a trailer with a busted floor and a truck with more miles than you’d like to admit on it—while Joel has a shiny truck from this decade and a horse trailer with a tack room and living quarters. Probably has AC and everything.

You catch the glint in his eye, realizing you’re the one asking for a favor and you steel yourself, reminding yourself to bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you grit out, holding your hand out for the keys.

The truck hums beneath you, the steady vibration doing nothing to ease the thick tension in the cab. Tommy’s passed out in the back seat, his hat tipped low over his face, leaving you alone with Joel and the steady drone of the country ballad playing through the speakers.

“You always listen to this?” you ask, breaking the silence as you reach toward the radio.

Joel glances at you, one hand resting casually on the wheel. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“Didn’t know you were a ‘sad songs for sad cowboys’ kind of guy,” you mutter, flicking through stations before he can answer.

Joel doesn’t stop you, but when you pause on something irritatingly upbeat, his hand moves toward the knob just as yours does.

Your fingers brush his, and the contact jolts through you like a live wire.

You pull back instinctively, your breath catching as your heart slams against your ribs. Joel pauses for half a second before retreating, his knuckles tightening faintly on the wheel.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Joel stares ahead, his jaw clenching as his thoughts spiral. He knew telling you to ride with him was playing with fire. But he can’t stay away from the heat. You glance out the window, pretending the spark you felt wasn’t real. It’s just Joel, always better than you, always an ass. The charged silence stretches on though, every shift of his hand on the wheel drawing your attention. Every shallow breath reminds you of his proximity.

“This’ll do,” you say tightly. Joel huffs softly, but says nothing, keeping his eyes pointed straight ahead. Neither of you speaks again for the rest of the drive, but the weight of the accidental touch remains, thick and suffocating. The rodeo grounds are already alive with motion by the time you’re parked and unloading the horses. The evening sun casts an amber glow over the circus of trucks, tents, and trailers. You help get the portable fence set up and the horses settled before the three of you head off to check in at the visitor's tent and get your meal tickets.

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables.

You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.”

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re hungry enough to take the opportunity to sit and eat.

“Name’s Cody.” He introduces himself while you eat. He tells you he’s a bull rider. Asks if you’re runnin’ barrels tomorrow. He’s chatty with a smooth and easy voice and a playful look on his youthful face. You answer his questions, politely, suddenly keenly aware of Joel’s gaze boring into the back of your head. It makes your spine prickle with something you can’t name. The heat of his stare burns into you, fierce and unwavering, making every laugh at Cody’s jokes feel like defiance. Cody continues on and you find it easy to listen to his stories, but you can’t help feeling compelled to glance over your shoulder betraying the distraction you’re trying to ignore. Cody points out some of the other riders he knows and invites you to come hang out at their campsite and have a drink. You’re still searching for the right words when you catch sight of Joel walking swiftly past your table. He mutters something to Tommy–who seems to be proving Linda’s rumors true with a woman wrapped around his arm and batting her lashes at him–and stalks off. Your stomach twists as you watch him go, irritation flaring hot and fast. “The fuck is his problem?” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your plate. Cody shrugs, clearly oblivious. “Who knows? Anyway—” But you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes following the path Joel struts down before he disappears.

You joined Cody and his friend for one drink, hoping it would ease your nerves. He had a kind group, a little rough around the edges, but tough as nails like you’d expect bull riders to be. They kept your mind distracted with their wild stories, but you decided to head back to the trailer before anyone got drunk and stupid. The walk back to the trailer feels longer than it should, every step weighed down by something stirring within you, something that has you on edge. You check on the horses before pulling the door open and climbing into the living quarters. The cool night air hasn’t soothed the heat that’s been simmering within you since dinner—or since that moment in the truck if you’re honest. You toe off your boots before looking up to see Joel, leaning against the wall, his jaw set tight, and his eyes sharp as they snap to yours.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing.

You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?”

He shrugs his shoulders, but his expression remains cold. “Lookin’ out for you. Your dad’d kill me if I didn’t.” You laugh bitterly. “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Silence fanning the flames within you. “You aren’t my dad,” you snap, voice trembling with rage. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t fuck.” Joel’s eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffening as he steps even closer. “That’s not what I—” “Save it,” you cut him off, word sharp as a whip. “I don’t know why you think I’m so weak or clueless all the time. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m some kid you’ve gotta babysit.”

Joel’s expression hardens, his dark eyes flash with something that looks like hurt beneath his anger. “That’s what you think I see?” his words come out like a dangerous growl. “That’s how you’ve acted toward me since day one,” you fire back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. “If you don’t respect me, Joel, just stay out of my business.” His chest rises and falls sharply, his breath warm against your skin as the air between you thickens. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he grits, voice tight with frustration. “Explain it to me then,” you challenge. Shaking with the force of everything you’ve been holding back. “Or stay away from me if I’m such a thorn in your side.” He works his jaw, and for a moment you’re glued to the corded muscle in his neck and the exposed golden brown skin of his chest. He glares at you, making no move to back off. His voice drops sinfully low and quiet. “You really wanna know?” “Yeah,” you breathe, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through your ribcage. “I do.” His hand moves fast, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he accuses in a rough and uneven voice. You blink. “What?” “You heard me,” he rumbles, dark eyes locked on yours. “From the first day, you showed up here, lookin’ at me like you had somethin’ to prove.” Anger burns in your veins. “How does that make me your problem?” His grip tightens, his body presses closer. “You ain’t my problem,” he mutters. Guilt twists into his words, “Shouldn’t even be lookin’ at you like this. S’wrong.” He swallows thickly, only sharpening the edge in his voice. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and it’s pissin’ me off.” His confession hits you like a brick over the head. The trailer is silent, but the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, and your ragged exhale seems deafening.

“Then stop,” you challenge, voice trembling with defiance. “If it’s so wrong, just leave me alone.” Joel’s eyes darken, his other hand settles on your hip, fingers digging into you. “Can’t,” he says, voice so thick with frustration, it sounds like it hurts. “Don’t think I want to.”

Silence stretches and time feels thick and warped. Your ragged breaths fill the space. His eyes search for a reason to stop, but he finds none.

You don’t get a chance to reply before he drops your wrist to wrap a large hand around your jaw, pulling you into a feverish kiss. Nothing gentle about it. It’s raw and desperate, equal parts frustration and hunger. Your fingers curl into his shirt as if you could pull him any closer as your teeth scrape over his bottom lip, in a sharp, biting challenge that makes him groan low in his throat. He angles your face so he can kiss you deeper, harder, until your knees feel like they might give out. Your mind goes blank, flashing white with anger and need. All you can process is the hot slip of his tongue against yours and the sharp bristle of his facial hair against your tender lips. Your back hits the cool metal wall of the trailer before you realize your feet had even moved. Joel’s hips press into yours, pinning you against his body–solid and unrelenting. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck, the edge of his teeth scraping at your skin. The rasp of his stubble sends sparks to your core, and you dig your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him toward you, needing him in a way that verges on painful. He lifts his mouth, breathing hotly against your damp neck. “This what you want?” he says, his tone matching the burning desperation coursing through you. “You want me to fuck it outta you? Til you can’t keep runnin’ your mouth at me?” “Shut up,” you snap, but the way your body arches into him betrays the hostility in your voice and the subtle stretch makes you keenly aware of how wet and needy you are already. He makes a low, guttural noise in his throat that makes your cunt throb. His hand slides down to grip your thigh, hitching it around his waist as he grinds into you. The hard ridge of his cock pressing into you makes you gasp. The sound you make sends heat ripping through him like wildfire. We can’t, he thinks, but the words die on his tongue. The thought of how wrong this is flashes in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the way you’re looking at him. The way your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him closer, your breath hot and shaky against his cheek. He can’t think. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. Not when you’re so soft and warm and furious beneath him. He’s helpless. His hand slips under your shirt, rough fingers brushing over soft skin, leaving a searing trail that grounds you as your mind spins. He pushes your shirt up, baring you to the dim light of the trailer. Time slips back into the warped, syrupy dimension as you absorb the unbidden lust and awe in his eyes. You’re the one exposed, but you feel like you’re seeing something just as naked in his face. Time catches up and you pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, committing to sin wordlessly. You shiver at the sudden contrast between the heat radiating off of his body and the cool air hitting your flesh. “Joel,” you gasp, your head tipping back as his mouth closes over your nipple like a wet furnace. His teeth graze the sensitive skin causing you to spew breathy curses over the top of his head. They only spur him on. He sucks hard enough that you tug him off you by his hair, but he only switches to your breast, delivering the same delicious punishment as his fingers roll and pinch at the wet, puffy, flesh he abandons.

It’s like he can predict your needs before your mind can, biting down harshly enough to pull you away from the angry, hissing thoughts and keep you desperate to stay lost in the physical sensations. He palms the full weight of your tits, gliding his thumbs over both, slick and shining with his saliva. He presses them together before releasing them. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, taken by the way they bounce more perfectly than he could’ve imagined. It’s wrong to have you topless and panting beneath him, but his name falls so sweetly from your lips that it doesn’t matter. The heavy-lidded look you have makes him feel confirmed. When you moan lowly as the pain melts into pleasure when he kneads your soft, slippery skin, his cock aches and weeps for you. He needs more. He needs everything. Needs to wreck you, to see you so fucked out the only thing you can say is his name.

It’s an exquisite brand of torture.

You hate how good this feels, how badly you want him to keep going. To show you every move he knows. To break you down with his hands and mouth. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off. But your body doesn’t want that. You don’t want that. You roll your hips against his, begging wordlessly for more, as you tug at his hair hard enough to pull a throaty groan from deep within him. The sound he makes nearly has you short-circuiting, but he doesn’t give you the respite to fall apart. His hands are everywhere, frenzied like he’s losing control. Hasn’t he already lost it? You wonder distantly. Slowly, you realize he’s littering dirty little threats and filthy promises into your warm flesh. You hate the way his words make you shiver, how much you crave every pledge he makes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, sweetheart,” he husks hotly, just behind your ear. It’s a commitment you unwittingly pray he keeps. Some part buried deep within you blooms at the idea of feeling every memory of his touch as you go about your day tomorrow. “Get to it then,” you snap, hands reaching for his belt with urgency. Joel doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slips between your legs, teasing you through the soaked fabric of your underwear, and the sound you make at the pressure—the breathless, needy, whimper—makes him forget how to breathe. All he knows is that he needs to hear it again while he fucks into your soft, warm cunt.

He wrenches your jeans open and works them down your thighs as you tear at his shirt buttons. He’s barely able to let you go long enough to pull his shirt off; watching you kick your pants off the rest of the way makes him nearly trip over himself.

The air between your naked chests is sticky and warm. He dips his hand beneath the hem of your underwear, fingertips gliding over the soft hair on your mound making his eyes roll back.

The edges of your vision blurs when he prods two big fingers between your slick lips, but you’re glued to the way his dark eyes are nearly black now. He looks every bit possessed by a beast, and fuck if you aren’t driven by the sick desire to make him snap.

“You like having me touch you like this, don’t you?” His voice drips with need underscored by the slick sounds coming from between your legs.

“No.” You rasp, as you grind your clit against his palm. He pumps two fingers inside of you, curling them just right to make you moan.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawls, thick like honey. You grip the muscle flexing in his arm to steady yourself. His concentration and competence makes your walls flutter around his fingers.

“You’re gonna come for me, right here.” He declares.

You shake your head. “I’m not—fuck—I won’t.”

“You will,” he interrupts. Dark and calm. His pace quickens, fingers focused on the spot inside you that makes you a mindless wreck. His thumb draws circles around your clit.

“Can feel how close you are.” Your hips rock and your muscles all pull taut. “If you’d quit fuckin’ fighting me.” He somehow crowds even closer to you. You feel like you’re about to snap when he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty and ragged. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, ain’t you?”

“Joel,” you whine, angry and devastated. “I hate you.”

You grip the back of his neck with one hand, and both of you watch as he finally takes himself out of his jeans.

The view makes you salivate.

Everything about Joel is rugged and masculine. The muscles carved into his arms and chest. The trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that thickens around his base. The deep flushed color of his thick cock. The ragged inhale he makes when he presses the blunt tip against the drenched fabric that clings to your swollen folds.

“Say it,” he growls, rubbing along your barely clothed seam.

“I hate you,” you whisper unconvincingly, digging your nails into the back of his neck and arching off of the wall.

“Tell me you want it.” You can’t tell if it’s a demand or a plea. This strain in his voice and the muscles tensing across his broad frame make you tremble.

“I don’t.” You lie. You snake one hand down your body, peeling your ruined panties to the side so he can slot his tip at your dripping entrance. You tilt forward, impatiently, stretching around him just enough to override your filter.

“Oh, fuck,” you start. Unable to stop the stream of whispered curses from rolling off your tongue.

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, inching deeper inside of your tight, warm walls. He feeds himself into you slowly, the overwhelming fullness as you adjust makes your thighs shake. He pulls out and you whine, unable to say a word before he’s moving, dipping you onto the thin trailer mattress and slipping your underwear down your legs.

“Gonna fuck you full,” he mutters. You spread your legs, making room for him to settle above you. He draws his cock back through your lips, coating himself in your arousal before driving into you with a powerful stroke.

Your lips part, sucking in air as he sets a pace. He fills you deeper than you’ve ever felt, relentlessly making room for himself as he saws in and out of you. It’s powerful and primal, but refined by his athleticism. Fluid rolling hips and his strong core make you see stars as he fucks into you.

“That’s right,” he rasps above you, and you realize he’s responding to you.

“So good,” you’re murmuring, “so full.”

“Taking it like you were made for it,” he says to himself. The intensity of your tight, warm pussy coaxing him deeper makes him spill his thoughts. Unfiltered.

He sets a pace, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke filling you completely before pulling back, leaving you desperate for more. The friction is maddening, plunging his length into your sensitive walls as he pins you beneath his hard body.

“You feel that?” His breath is hot against your neck. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m splittin’ you open?”

You nod frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whimper his name.

Joel’s control falters at the sound of it, his hips snapping harder, faster, as his desperation takes over. “Thought about this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve thought about this too damn much. But you’re better than I ever imagined.”

His confession sends a jolt through you, but you’re too far gone to process it, your body tightening around him as pleasure builds again, sharper and hotter than before.

“Joel, please.”

“Fuck,” he chokes the word out, his pace faltering for a split second before he slams into you harder, deeper. “Say that again.”

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking as your release breaks through you, leaving you gasping and cursing.

Joel’s hips snap erratically, pinning you into the mattress with a tight grip, as he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you.

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Every drop, sweetheart.” Make you mine, he barely keeps the last thought in his head.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chant as your body jolts with each collision with his.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, cock driving deeper and swelling at your words. “That’s it. Take it all, sweetheart.”

Your release hits again, your body trembling violently. Or maybe it never stopped—he only drew it out of you in waves.

Joel curses low, his hips slamming into yours one last time before you feel him pulsing inside of you, hot and thick.

When he pulls back, his eyes linger on the mess between your thighs. “Look at that,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent. His wide hands slide up the back of your thighs, bending your knees to your chest so he can watch the mix of your releases glistening and dripping from you.

He takes one hand and drags it through the mess, pushing it back up inside of you. You squirm, sensitive to the touch, but fixated on whatever is burning behind his eyes.

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel.

To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that.

But it never comes.

You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move.

He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse.

Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠🤎

tagging the usual babes in case you want some cowboy!joel for christmas too:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

Text

Dieter & Lucien 🔥

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule.

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning.

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold.

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.”

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath.

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.”

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.”

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship.

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together.

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though.

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you.

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.”

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.”

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.”

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.”

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least.

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure.

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to.

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter.

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?”

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.”

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.”

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.”

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet.

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.”

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls.

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut.

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.”

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release.

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed.

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.”

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place.

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.”

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.”

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time.

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it.

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.”

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse.

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement.

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.”

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.”

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again.

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.”

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.”

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.”

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.”

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.”

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.”

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.”

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.”

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs.

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question.

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.”

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.”

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along.

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone.

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows.

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.”

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.”

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being.

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.”

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien.

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again.

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter.

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough.

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor.

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times.

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.”

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?”

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?”

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.”

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?”

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.”

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.”

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him.

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.”

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.”

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.”

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe.

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.”

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.”

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.”

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.”

That hit a nerve, and he knew it.

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.”

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.”

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued.

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were.

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.”

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.”

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.”

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.”

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control.

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon.

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces.

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away.

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?”

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.”

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.”

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.”

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case.

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me.

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen.

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.”

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.”

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?”

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together.

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.”

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.”

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.”

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe.

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.”

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go.

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it.

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much.

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded.

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.”

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.”

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze.

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.”

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.”

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading.

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.”

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person.

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck.

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.”

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?”

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?”

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.”

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.”

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.”

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.”

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...”

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.”

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?”

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.”

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work.

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.”

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that.

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage.

“I got Delia pregnant.”

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?”

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better.

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing.

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this.

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start.

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?”

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.”

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…”

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.”

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.”

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?”

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.”

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us.

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone.

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on.

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway.

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer.

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered.

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.”

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.”

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.”

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was.

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too.

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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@undutchable11 @pasc4lfuzz @pedrospurplerain @survivingandenduring @bunniboo0015

@dimonroks @rav3n-pascal22 @darkheartgatita @snowflorets @sinpathyforthedevilish

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@danilg21 @pedrostories

Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

#pedro pascal fanfiction #lucien flores #dieter bravo #lucien de leon #pedro pascal smut #this ain't no hallmark movie

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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This is absolutely beautiful! A soft Javi Peña for Christmad

Christmas in the City

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: As if your holiday season couldn't get any worse, you get lost on your way to the first day of your new job. Lucky for you, a handsome and flirty stranger finds you on the verge of tears and walks you to your office building, turning your day around instantly.

Warnings: language, fluff, meet-cute, Narcos AU (I basically plucked out the character, stripped him of his DEA credentials, and gave him a different (but similar) job and home), cheesy hallmark vibes, flirting

WC: 2.8K

A/N: This story is inspired by a small thread I found on Twitter ages ago. A girl told a similar story, although there was no romantic element. If anyone recognizes this story can you send it to me so I can credit it?

Your day was turning out to be an absolute nightmare.

Washington, D.C. was still a big and foreign city to you, so it was hardly your fault. You mapped out the walk to work over the weekend, timed how long it would take you to get to your new job from your little apartment, but that was before the snow fell. Now, everything looked completely different and you lost your sense of direction almost immediately.

In the distance, through the mountains of snow pushed between the sidewalks and streets, you thought you saw the glow of a coffee shop you recognized, so you tucked your arms against your chest and pushed on, praying you were headed in the right direction.

It took a few minutes before the light changed and you were safe to cross the street. Seconds kept chipping away and you tried not to stress about the time. You had to resign yourself to the fact that you were going to make a horrible first impression on your boss and be late for your very first day of work at the F.B.I.

And although you knew it was out of your control at that point, you still felt tears sting your eyes when you approached the coffee shop and realized it was, in fact, not the one you recognized from your dry run over the weekend.

You wanted to blame it on the sharp winter wind that bit at your cheeks that made the first tears fall, but deep down you knew the truth. You were a stranger in a busy city about to start a job you had hoped you could make into a successful career, but with your poor planning and horrible sense of direction, you likely just ruined your chances at the position of a lifetime.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You whipped around at the deep voice behind you, but not before swiping quickly at the wet tears on your cheeks with your gloved hand.

"Oh," you breathed when you first laid eyes on the concerned bystander. For one brief moment, you forgot all your worries because the man was gorgeous. Tall and lean with beautiful, soft brown eyes and a prominent mustache decorating his lip, your handsome stranger had you temporarily forgetting your misery as you got lost in his eyes.

"Um, I'm fine," you insisted with a tremble to your voice once you blinked and snapped yourself out of your daydream.

"You sure? You look a little lost," he said with a furrow to his brow.

And maybe it was the stress from the morning that got to you, or maybe it was the looming cloud in the back of your mind reminding you this would be your first Christmas all alone without your family, but suddenly you couldn't stop the hot tears that streamed down your cheeks.

The man's eyes widened in surprise before he glanced around nervously. You buried your face in your hands, knowing you must have been smearing your makeup, but at that point you didn't care. Your day was already ruined.

"Come on, you're alright," he said soothingly. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you in the direction of the coffee shop. "You need something to warm you up, let's go," he added before swinging the door open for you.

"I-I'm already going to be so late," you protested, but he shushed you and pressed a hand against your middle back, giving you a gentle push inside the cozy café.

"If you're already late, what's another ten minutes?" he replied before approaching the counter and taking his gloves off. It was at that point you noticed he was dressed very nicely in an expensive looking three piece suit with a long, black wool overcoat. The only thing out of place were his clunky winter boots, and the sight actually managed to make the corner of your mouth turn up a bit.

"Two hot chocolates, please," he said before fishing out his wallet. Then he glanced back at you before adding, "and a blueberry muffin."

"Oh, you don't have to, I can pay for mine," you said, fumbling for your purse. He shook his head and swiped his card before you could say another word.

"Not a chance."

You smiled up at him, eyes still glistening with tears. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied before handing you your drink and muffin. "Well worth the five bucks to see you smile."

Your face flushed with heat from his kind compliment. You looked around the shop for a place to sit, hoping to hide your embarrassment for just a moment. The pair of you sat down at a table by the window and you took a deep, steadying breath before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a grateful sip.

"I'm Javier," he said, and with a smirk, he stretched his arm across the small table. Your face warmed again when you realized you hadn't even remembered to introduce yourself. You took his hand and shook it, telling him your name while silently marveling at how warm his hands were, despite the weather. He must have very high quality gloves, you thought.

"Well, thank you again, Javier," you said before splitting the muffin and handing him half. He smiled and plucked it from your fingers with a nod.

"You're welcome. Now, what's got you so sad this beautiful morning?" he asked. You laughed, glancing out the window at the anything but beautiful morning waiting for you outside.

"I'm supposed to start my new job today and I'm completely lost," you explained while picking at the muffin. "I just moved here and I'm not familiar with the city. I thought I knew my way to work, but I got turned around and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get fired, now."

Javier huffed and took a sip from his cup. "Where do you work?"

"The F.B.I," you said. If it weren't D.C., you were sure there would have been a stronger reaction to your place of employment, but the city was filled with people who worked for the federal government, so it was far from uncommon.

"Ah, I know where that building is," he said before wiping his mouth with a napkin and crumpling it up. "Why don't I walk you over? It's not far."

"Oh, no," you said with a shake of your head. "You're probably late for work, too. And by the looks of it, you're someone important."

Javier grinned and leaned back in his chair. The café was decorated for Christmas, garland and twinkle lights were wound around every ledge and window. When he looked at you, his eyes sparkled with their reflection, and it was impossible to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

"I'll be alright. It's not too far. C'mon," he said, standing after you finished your muffin. He stretched out a hand for you after pulling his gloves back on and you smiled before taking it and joining him.

"What did you get hired to do for the F.B.I?" he asked once you were back out on the busy sidewalk. He kept a tight hold on your hand, each of you still clutching your hot chocolate with the other. Anybody walking by might guess you were a couple based on how easily you leaned into each other as you dodged pedestrians from the opposite direction and the thought made you giddy.

"Oh, nothing exciting. Just a secretary for a higher level agent," you said with a shrug.

"Yeah? Nice guy?" he asked curiously. When you came to a stop at the corner, waiting for the light to change, you took the opportunity to look up at him once again. His cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, as well as the tip of his angular nose, and you found it incredibly endearing for some reason.

"I haven't actually met him," you admitted. "I only interviewed with Human Resources and the woman I was replacing. Can't imagine being almost thirty minutes late is going to leave a positive impression, though."

"Don't sweat it. If he's a reasonable guy, he'd understand. Besides, he'd be stupid to let you go," he said, eyes scanning you up and down with a teasing lilt to his voice. Your mouth dropped open the slightest bit, giving away your surprise when it occurred to you for the first time this guy might have actually been flirting with you. It was loud on the streets, the sounds of people talking and laughing combined with the road noise made it impossible to hear him chuckle, but the foggy exhale from his nose when he smirked told you he found your reaction amusing and hopefully adorable.

"You're being too nice," you warned him, then the light changed and you let him lead you across the street, his hand still tightly clutching yours. "You don't even know me. I could be a terrible worker."

"I doubt that," he scoffed before tugging your hand around a corner, leading you back north. It was around then you realized you would have been walking for an hour before you found the right direction.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Javier grinned but kept his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"You were crying in the street about being late for a job as a secretary, sweetheart. You can be a secretary anywhere, right? So only thing I can think is you hate to let people down, which, to me, is an important quality in a good worker."

You laughed and held onto his hand a little tighter, pausing to toss both of your empty cups in the trash before continuing your snowy walk.

"What is it that you do, Javier?" you asked, dreamily looking up at him. He opened his mouth to answer but he was cut short by a man's panicked voice.

"Whoa, watch out!"

A courier bike has been racing down the street, and at the last second, jumped the curb to avoid getting hit by a taxi. You hardly had time to register the messenger's warning when a sharp tug came from Javier, who had pulled you out of the way without hesitation. You stumbled to the side, narrowly missing getting knocked over, and fell right into Javier's arms. Due to your momentum, he spun you both around so you wouldn't fall and in the blink of an eye, your back was pressed against the frosty glass storefront of a bakery with Javier accidentally pinning you with his body.

"Are you alright?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded, heart racing in your chest.

"Yeah. Shit. Thank you," you mumbled.

"Sorry!" came the distant apology from the bike messenger, already halfway down the block. Javier lifted his chin to scowl in his direction, allowing your brain a chance to catch up, and you immediately grew flustered when you realized the compromising position you were in. His body was firm and broad underneath his suit and coat. You could feel his strength even underneath all the layers between you. Glancing up, you saw his one forearm was braced above your head while his other hand had found a home on your lower back.

Your gaze traveled slowly up his torso, noticing for the first time your hands were clutching at his coat for dear life, a fact that added to the many reasons your cheeks felt so warm.

When Javier turned to look down at you, you could see the moment he realized how close you had become, but instead of growing shy, his eyes darkened and he swallowed tightly.

"You got a little-"

Javier released your waist and pulled off his glove with his teeth so he could swipe his thumb gently under your eye, fixing your smeared mascara from your earlier bouts of tears. Your eyelids fluttered from his careful touch and your breath got caught in your throat when you noticed the way his hand lingered on your face for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled his hand away and stepped backwards.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his thick, dark brown hair before shoving his hand back in his glove.

"Alright, trouble, we're almost there."

You blinked and nodded before forcing yourself off the window to join him. Your hand fidgeted at your side, wishing you had the guts to take his hand again, but much to your delight, Javier's fingers laced with yours after half a block, making you both smile shyly when you caught each other's eye.

"Any big plans for the holidays?" Javier asked you. You shook your head sadly.

"I just moved here and my family all lives in a small town outside of Albany," you explained. "If I do still have a job, I certainly couldn't ask for time off already. And if I don't, well," you laughed lightly and shook your head. "I don't exactly have the money to travel, so... quiet Christmas this year. What about you?"

"No big plans. I don't have much family, but the ones I do have are in Texas. Wasn't planning on traveling home this year, so... quiet Christmas for me, too."

You tried, you really did, to come up with the courage to ask for his number or give him yours. For the entirety of the walk to your building, you kept rehearsing things you could say: Maybe we can get together if we're both in town? I'd love to get you a hot chocolate to repay the favor... or something stronger. Ugh. Dumb. Hey, since I'm new around here and it sounds like we'll both have time on our hands, why don't you show me around? Nope. Too bold. Why don't you give me your number so I can let you know if I kept my job after all?

Yes. That was the one. Light hearted and kind of funny. But when you found yourselves standing outside the familiar looking building, moments away from saying your goodbyes, you chickened out.

"Well, thank you again," you said nervously. He dropped your hand and opened the front door to the lobby, holding it for you so you could walk inside. It was quiet in the expansive lobby due to the odd hour. Most employees had already arrived for the day and were somewhere in the depths of the building, along with a very likely irate HR recruiter wondering where you were.

"No problem, happy to help out," he said with a lopsided grin. You didn't even question why he was still walking with you towards the front desk, far too preoccupied with the fact you were going to lose your job before it even started. When you got close enough to the receptionist, she glanced up from her computer and gave you both a warm smile.

"Hi, good morning," you told her while clasping your hands on top of the tall counter. You gave her your name and the name of your HR recruiter, letting her know you were a little late and you had run into some trouble with the weather.

"Alrighty, give me one moment and I'll have Carly meet you to review your onboarding paperwork. I see you've already met Agent Peña - good morning, Javier," she added with a flirty smile in his direction. Your jaw dropped and you swiveled to your left but he was already calling the elevator a short distance away.

"Morning, Laura," he called, locking eyes with you for just a brief moment before the elevators dinged. You stood frozen in shock, unable to form a single thing to say when he added, "I better get upstairs. My new secretary's supposed to start today. It'd look terrible if I were late."

Javier stepped into the car and tapped a number along with a plastic ID card. His gaze found yours once more and she shot you a playful wink right before the doors slid shut, leaving you to your stunned silence.

"Is- is that..." you trailed off, still staring blankly at the closed elevator. "Is that the agent I'm assigned to?"

Laura had just set her phone down in the cradle. "Yeah," she said dreamily before glancing around the empty room and leaning forward. "Lucky girl. His other secretary was with him for ages. I heard when she announced her retirement, HR got, like, thirty internal resumes for the job," she giggled.

"Oh, wow," was all you could muster before the elevator reopened and out stepped Carly.

"Good morning!" she said cheerily. "Sorry to hear you ran into some tough weather but I'm glad you made it. Don't worry, Agent Peña just got here, too."

You still apologized profusely for your tardiness as you followed her onto the elevator, your mind and pulse racing at the sudden turn of events.

"He's very nice, I think you'll get along great," Carly added while watching the numbers above the elevator door.

"Yeah, I think so, too," you replied, trying to hide the excitement from your voice.

Maybe your first day wasn't going to be a complete nightmare, after all.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#narcos x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena x you

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Gotta love Javi G.

PEDRO PASCAL as JAVI GUTIERREZ THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT 2022 | dir. Tom Gormican

#pedro pascal #tuwomt #tuwomtedit #javier gutierrez

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Read this in one go - Fantastic love story

hot & heavy

neighbor!joel x f!reader

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

series masterlist

chapter one: southern nights

chapter two: couldn’t look away

chapter three: show me how

chapter four: american pie

chapter five: try to walk away

chapter six: remember when

chapter seven: a conversation stuck in your throat

chapter eight: up north

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

chapter ten: a hidden gem, my own goldmine

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

chapter twelve: sunshine baby

chapter thirteen: hot blood & heavy memories

chapter fourteen: stuck by the glue

epilogue: our love is going gold

series extras

firecracker on a crowded street playlist - spotify / apple

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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A fluffy and smutty Joel! Perfect for the holiday season

On the Right Track

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You board the train to Chicago to find your sleeper cabin has been double booked.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. No outbreak AU, meet-cute, forced proximity-ish, use of pet names (darlin’, baby), oral sex (m&f), unprotected PiV. no use of Y/N.

a/n: the idea of getting “stuck” in a sleeper cabin during a long ass train ride with Joel Miller rotted my brain. So, here I am dumping it onto you. I hope you enjoy it! big time thank you to @80ssong for the beta 😘

word count: 5,442

ao3 | ml

The wheels of your suitcase emit a low, steady rumble as you drag it behind you, weaving through the crowd rushing past in the opposite direction. You're stopped short when one of the wheels gets caught in a crack in the concrete train platform. You breathe out a huff of frustration, "Goddammit!" and try to shimmy your suitcase loose.

You can't miss your train; you’ve been looking forward to this trip for the last year, another check on your “travel the country by train” bucket list. Mercifully, the wheel shakes loose, and you resume your quickened pace. Even with the extra time you allowed yourself to pack and get ready this morning, you didn’t account for the rush hour traffic. One of the many perks of working from home is not dealing with that nonsense. If only you had left your house 15 minutes earlier. You hate feeling rushed when you travel. A booming voice from the PA system bellows, “Final boarding call for Texas Eagle! ALL ABOARD!”

Shit! You pick up the pace; quick steps turn into a jog to make your train. You’re out of breath by the time you approach the entrance of your sleeper car. The conductor takes notice of your struggle, grabs your suitcase, and assists you up the steps. You navigate through the hallway of the sleeper car to find your cabin, your breath slowly returning to normal.

This trip from Austin to Chicago is over twenty-eight hours, so sparing the extra expense of a sleeper cabin was a no-brainer. You scan each door as you pass, looking for cabin 101. When you reach the correct door, looking forward to sitting and relaxing after your cardio session, you swing it open to find your cabin is not empty.

It has been two months since Sarah moved to Chicago for school. Joel has had a hard time adjusting to an empty nest. He's been able to occupy his time by taking on contracting jobs on the side and putting in more overtime. The extra money he's been able to bank has allowed him to take a week off work to visit Sarah.

Since childhood, he’s wanted to travel by train to see more of the country and for the experience. Due to the length of the trip and his back, he decided to spring for a sleeper cabin with some of his extra cash. Thankful he won't have to worry about engaging in awkward conversation with a chatty seatmate in one of the passenger cars.

Joel wasn't sure what to expect with train travel, so he arrived at the station an hour before departure. He was able to board and settle into the cabin without issue. He's in the middle of texting Sarah to let her know he boarded the train when the cabin door abruptly swings open.

You're surprised to see someone in your cabin. You double-check the number on the door’s plaque, compare it to your ticket, and look suspiciously at the annoyingly handsome, broad-shouldered man sitting on the bench seat, who looks equally perplexed. You booked a solo sleeper. What is this guy doing here?

“Um, there seems to be a mistake. I had booked this as a solo sleeper.”

“Yeah, I did too,” Joel sighs, “paid a pretty penny for it.”

You ask to see his ticket and see that he’s been assigned the same cabin number as you. Well, isn’t this your luck? You huff in annoyance, lean past the threshold into the corridor, and spot the conductor checking passenger tickets. He approaches when you grab his attention with a friendly wave. Hopefully, this is an unfortunate mix-up and can be resolved quickly.

“Welcome aboard the Texas Eagle. How can I help you, ma’am?”

“Hi, um," trying to shake out any annoyance in your voice, "There seems to be a mix-up. Our tickets are for cabin 101, but we booked a solo cabin separately.”

The conductor asks to see your tickets. He twitches his jaw in concentration as he looks over both tickets. He excuses himself to consult with the chief conductor. His return ends the twenty minutes of awkward silence between you and this handsome stranger, where avoiding eye contact felt like a full-time job.

“Thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, our sleepers have been overbooked for this trip. We apologize for the inconvenience." You and Joel sigh in unison, "I can move one of you to a passenger car, or you could share this cabin, and Amtrak will compensate you for the error.”

Joel looks up at you with a raised eyebrow. He studies your face to gauge which option you're leaning toward. Moving to a seat in the passenger car is not appealing to him, but if you were not keen on sharing a sleeper with a stranger, he’d concede. He wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. But if he’s honest with himself, he would be disappointed. You are a beautiful woman, and he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, even if it is not under ideal circumstances.

You take a few minutes to consider your options. Shifting your eyes around the cabin, trying to avoid Joel’s gaze. A seat in the passenger car is the least desirable of the two options. Fortunately, the cabin has two beds, so it’s not a total loss. There are far worse things than being stuck in a sleeper cabin with an attractive stranger. You’re a pretty good judge of character; he has kind eyes, and he hasn’t given off any creepy vibes in the brief time you've been in his presence. Could this be one of those meet-cutes you see in your favorite rom-coms?

Joel waits patiently for you to make the final call. You glance at him and then back at the conductor. “I’m fine with sharing the cabin.”

“Sounds good. Again, we’re so sorry for the inconvenience. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

When the conductor departs, you move further into the cabin and take in the cramped space. You start to lift your bag into the overhead bin, and Joel notices your struggle. He springs up from his seat to assist you. "Let me help ya there."

You feel the warmth of his body pressed against you as he lifts his arms above you. When he shoves your suitcase into the bin, you inhale his scent, a mix of fresh soap, sandalwood, and mint. You feel heat travel up your neck and hope he doesn’t notice.

Joel steps back when the bag is secured in the bin, and the vestiges of his warm body begin to cool on your back. A sense of disappointment washes over you. You liked the way his body felt against you. He felt safe.

When you turn around, you're met with his extended hand, and he introduces himself, “I’m Joel.”

You take his hand, so large it swallows yours, and introduce yourself with a firm handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sorry, it had to be under these circumstances.”

“You t—“ The jolt of the train cuts you off as it lurches forward and throws you off balance and into Joel’s broad chest.

He grabs at you, careful not to place his hands anywhere inappropriately to keep you upright. You’ve now felt his sturdy form from your back and front sides, and it’s unnerving. You stare down at the dated carpet as you try to gain your composure before you look up at him shyly, “Sorry about that. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

You return a soft smile and nod as you move to sit down. The morning's events have you completely frazzled, and you hope you can finally relax. You settle into your seat and pull out your book, locating the dog-eared page where you left off. The cabin is quiet except for the rumble of the train and the occasional announcement of the next stop, followed by its arrival. Neither you nor Joel was ready to cut through the silence just yet.

The tension of being in this tight space is distracting, and you're unable to focus on your reading. You peek up from your book and observe Joel. He’s staring out the cabin window, watching the blur of the Texas landscape speed by with his chin resting on the heel of his hand. It’s been a while since Joel has been out of Austin. He wants to see as much as possible during this ride.

You take in his profile. Admiring the strong, sharp jaw covered in a patchwork of dark scruff sprinkled with grey and a full mustache over a pair of pillowy lips. His furrowed brow sits atop a set of rich, chocolate eyes. Eyes that express a softness and warmth. You watch as the reflection of the country landscape flickers across his orbs. Shadows fall over the curve of his aquiline nose. It's as if the Romans chiseled his face out of travertine.

“Is everythin’ alright?!”

You shake out of your haze at Joel’s inquiry. Busted. You’ve never been good at subtlety, so you’re not surprised he’s caught you staring.

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s fine.” You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself some time to come up with an explanation for your ogling, “I…I was trying to remember if I locked my doors before I left this morning.”

Joel grins. He doesn’t entirely believe you. He’s pretty sure he caught you staring at him. It felt nice. A sense of pride that a woman as beautiful as you would give him the time of day. “Oh, I know that feeling.”

You nod in response, and the silence returns as you resume your activities. The tension thickens as the awkwardness continues for a couple more stops. A silent internal debate over who would break the silence first wars between you. Unable to bear it any longer, you finally squeak out, “So, what’s in Chicago?”

Joel is surprised by the question, not the question itself, but that you were more confident than him to break the silence. “My daughter, Sarah, she’s at Northwestern.”

“Oh, wow, that’s impressive.” You see Joel light up with pride at your praise.

“Yeah, I’m not sure where she gets it. Certainly not from me.” Joel scoffs.

You let out a short laugh. Not fully believing his self-deprecation. You've only known him briefly, but Joel strikes you as a smart guy.

Joel continues, “I haven’t seen her since she left for school two months ago. I can’t wait to see her.”

Joel’s excitement is palpable. His smile reaches his eyes as he talks about his daughter. My god, this man is handsome. You're not sure how you'll survive the rest of this trip, sharing a cabin with him.

“And how about you?” Joel inquires, “What’s the reason for your trip?”

“It’s kind of silly.” You flash Joel a sheepish smile. “I’ve always wanted to travel the country by train. I have taken a different route each time for the last few years. Only eight more to go to hit all states! It’s been a fun experience, and I’ve met many interesting people.”

Joel is intrigued. "That doesn't sound silly to me."

He admires your independence and courage to travel on your own. Charming, beautiful, and a sense of adventure. There’s no way you could be single. But wouldn’t they be on this trip with you if you had a significant other? He hesitates to ask but decides to go for it. “Is there anyone who would miss you while you're on this trip?”

A warmth spreads up your neck, reaching your cheeks. You answer Joel bashfully, “If my silver pothos counts, then…yes.”

Joel huffs a laugh. His confidence grows with the confirmation that you're single. “Darlin’, that’s a shame. You seem like a real catch.”

Could this be happening? Is this annoyingly handsome and charming man showing an interest in you? Darlin’? You’ve been in Texas long enough to know “darlin’” is used as frequently as “ma’am.” But this sounds different. Maybe you are experiencing a real-life meet-cute. It's been a year since you and your ex broke up. You’ve had time to heal but haven’t yet dipped your toe back into dating, but you'd be willing to take the plunge with this man.

Joel hasn’t had a serious relationship in a while. He prioritized raising Sarah and growing his contracting business. Sarah has encouraged him to put himself out there and meet someone. She's worried about him alone at home now that she’s off at school. It’s been an adjustment for Joel, getting used to an empty nest. He misses the stomps of Sarah’s footsteps as she races down the stairs each morning, the sound of pop music blasting through the stereo in her room, and late nights on the couch watching Curtis and Viper—Sarah falling asleep with her head on Joel's shoulder. Finding someone warm, caring, and beautiful to spend time with would be nice—someone like you.

As the train rolls on, you and Joel learn more about each other. Your comfort level and attraction to each other grow with each stop. You learn that he runs his own construction business with his brother. How he’s raised his daughter on his own, Sarah’s mother having left the both of them when she was still a baby. You tell him about your job and how it brought you to Austin. A place that is finally starting to feel like home.

It’s been over ten hours since you rushed to board the train. Ten hours filled with embarrassing mishaps, awkward silences, and engaging conversation. Ten hours of proximity to one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever met. And ten hours later, he asks you to have dinner with him in the dining car—a date.

You could tell that Joel was nervous when he asked. It was sweet. His eyes focused on the carpet’s intricate pattern; his hand rubbed the back of his neck before he looked over at you. “Would you...would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to, Joel!”

The food was pretty decent for being served on a train. If Joel plays his cards right, he might have a chance to take you on a proper dinner date without the rattling silverware. Joel admires you from across the table. He watches your fidgety fingers wrapped around the stem of your wine glass, rotating it in a circle on the white tablecloth.

You may still be nervous, but talking to Joel is easy. He’s warm and confident, with a great sense of humor. You feel the attraction between you continue to grow. You’ve even caught his eyes land on your lips a few times.

Joel can’t recall the last time he was on a proper date. He didn't last long on the dating app Sarah downloaded and set up his profile. After two weeks of confusion about which direction to swipe, easily bored by the rote introductory messages, he deleted it. He resigned that he’d have to meet someone in the wild. Did that even happen anymore? But here he is, with you, never imagined he would meet someone on the train. Grateful for the inconvenient cabin mix-up that led you to him.

Joel pays the tab, and you thank him for dinner with a kiss on his cheek. It was the best date you’ve ever had. He grabs your hand and walks you back to your shared cabin. As you open the door, you feel Joel’s hand lightly pressed against the small of your back, his pinky teasing the waistband of your jeans. The warmth of his hand through your top sends a thrill up your spine. He guides you into the space and closes the door behind him.

Once the door is locked, his palms are at your waist to spin you around to face him. "You're so beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself, handsome." Your palms pressed flat against him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the low beat of his heart pulsating through the soft cotton of his shirt.

Your breath quickens as his eyes map the delicate features of your face. He holds your gaze with his warm brown eyes, then trails down to your pillowy lips, returning to your eyes, seeking permission to kiss you. You grant it with a subtle nod, and he leans in; your heart pulsates with each inch he draws nearer. A needy moan emits from you as his lips finally press against yours. Soft, wet, warm. You invite him further with an open mouth and tease of your tongue along his lower lip. You've wanted to feel his lips against yours since he introduced himself.

His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt before he lifts it above your head and off. Discarded to the floor in one swift motion. He stares at your perfect tits caged in by black lace. He cups them gently in his palm while his index finger and thumb tweak your nipples to attention. A pleasurable hiss escapes your lips. His hands traipse down your supple skin until they reach your waist. With his fingers threaded in the belt loops of your jeans, his body looms large, and he guides you until the backs of your legs meet the bench.

He leans into you and seals your lips with his as his hands roam over the plane of your back. His fingers tease over the clasp of your bra, and he unfastens it in a swift motion releasing your tits from their lace confines. His other hand trails downward and slips into the back of your jeans, and squeezes your ass. Your body shudders at his grip.

He squats down to place his mouth over your tit. Kissing, licking, and sucking out sweet moans from you. His hands move to the front of your pants to unfasten them as he continues to distract you with his ministrations across your chest. In one pull, your bottom half is bare to him.

He nudges you gently to sit as he lowers to his knees; a creak of his joints echoes in the small room. His cock is painfully hard, pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He wraps his forearms around your thighs and pulls you in closer to his face. His sharp nose trails over your mound, and he inhales, moaning at your scent. He drapes your legs over his broad shoulders and lathes a slow swipe of his tongue through your folds, the tip brushing against your clit. "Fuck!" You manage to blurt out.

With a firm grip on your thighs, he continues to eat at you. He latches onto your clit and sucks, causing you to buck your hips into his face. Unphased, Joel continues his relentless pursuit of your pussy. He wants to lap up every drop of arousal that is leaking out of you. A strong desire to bring you over the edge with just his lips and tongue. He can feel you're close when your walls tighten around his tongue. Your breathy moans increase and become louder as he inches you toward your release.

Joel rises from the floor as you catch your breath. In a haze of euphoric bliss, you paw at his jeans, pleading for him to get undressed and switch places with you on the bench. "Joel," you whimper, "I need you inside me. Now."

With that, Joel hurriedly pulls off his shirt and strips his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. He offers his hand to assist you up from the bench, legs still wobbly from your first orgasm. He sits down and pats one palm on his meaty thigh while the other lazily strokes his cock. "C'mere baby."

Eagerly, you situate yourself to straddle Joel’s lap, knees pressed against the back cushion. You tease kisses over his face and trail down to where his neck meets his shoulder. He moans when you leave a soft bite and then soothe the area with your tongue. You rub the wet folds of your pussy up and down his length, whimpering when the tip of his cock brushes against your clit.

A gasp escapes you when the head teases at your entrance, seeking further access. You slowly sink onto his cock until he’s fully sheathed inside your warm pussy. “Fuck,” Joel exhales, “this pussy is so fucking wet, just swallowing my cock.”

The vibration of the train as it moves over the tracks heightens the sensation as you bounce on his cock and he mouths at your tits. His thumb teases your bottom lip, and you suck the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the salty tip. Desperate to make you come again, he removes his thumb and lowers his hand between your bodies. The pressure, as he circles your clit, ignites a fire in your core, bringing you closer to the edge. He can feel your pussy clench around his cock; he knows you’re close, “I need you to come, darlin’.”

With his permission, you explode around his length. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, feeling confident you can be as loud as you want with the roaring drone of the train; you wail out his name. With your neck bare to Joel, he leans forward to lick a trail upwards to leave light nips along your jaw before his mouth overtakes yours in an all-consuming kiss.

You squeal when Joel stands up from the bench in one fluid motion, still inside you. His palms squeeze your ass, and your arms are tight around his thick neck, keeping you secure as he shuffles over to the fold-down table. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your back and gently lays you on the cold surface, leaning forward to place kisses across the valley between your tits. As he straightens, his hands tighten around your hips, pulling you closer to meet his thrusts, which begin at a steady pace.

Your desire for him is overwhelming. The need for him has you in a daze as your body shifts back and forth against the tabletop. “Fuck me harder, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice—his speed quickens. The sound of his pelvis slapping into your ass reverberates around the small space. Your body is slick with sweat, and your mind is buzzing as your walls clamp around his length. The intense pleasure coils in your core, ready to snap. He watches your tits bounce in tandem with his thrusts, mesmerized by the heavy weight of them jostling back and forth.

“Joel…ah…” you spit out, “fuck!”

“I know, baby. I know.”

He gazes down in between your bodies, focused on where his cock meets your wet folds. Entranced by your pussy, lips stretched around his shaft coated in your arousal. “She’s choking me, baby.” He breathes out, “She’s so fucking tight. Perfect pussy taking me like a good girl.”

A cacophony of moans and grunts swirls around the two of you. He’s on the precipice of his orgasm, but he needs you to come again for him. He needs to feel your walls spasm around him a second time. He leans forward to kiss you, whispers into your lips how beautiful you are wrapped around his cock, how gorgeous you look when you come. “Give me one more. Be a good girl for me, and give me one more.”

On his command, your walls flutter around him as your release takes over. Thighs shake as their grip tightens around his hips, and you cry out his name. “That’s it…that’s it.”

He pulls out of you, hand wrapped around his base, and he strokes his cock, slick with your arousal. Grunting as he covers your mound and lower belly with his come. He collapses over you, kissing your cheeks and lips. “You’re incredible. That was incredible.”

You can only respond with a nod and pull his face to yours for another blistering kiss.

While you clean up in the bathroom, Joel turns down one of the beds. No longer a need for two separate beds. You crawl under the covers to join him, back pressed against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you in tight. His hot breath wafts against your neck before he peppers kisses along the column of your neck and down your shoulder. You relax into him with a low hum. You’re quickly lulled to sleep by the beat of his heart and the drone of the train's movement along the tracks.

You wake up in Joel’s warm embrace, the sun’s rays leaking through the curtains. His fingers traverse your bare arm, easing you awake. "How'd you sleep, darlin'?" his gruff morning voice breaking into the space.

"Perfect. I had a furnace behind me that kept me nice and warm." You feel Joel smile against your hair.

You expected it would be awkward this morning, but everything felt right. Comfortable. Safe. Perfect. Like this was meant to be. You can't recall ever feeling this way about someone, especially not someone you've only known for little more than a day. Your mind wanders to the "what ifs," starting to get into your head about whether Joel feels the same. What if he doesn't? What then?

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Joel interrupts your spiral.

"About how good this feels. How right…how…and how fucking terrifying that is."

Your hair rustles when Joel huffs a chuckle. "It does, and it is. But we can be terrified together. If you want?"

You turn in his arms to face him with a wide, beautiful smile. It squeezes at Joel's heart; his affection for you is overpowering. He's never felt this way with anyone. He'll be devastated if you say "no." Thankfully, you don't make him wait too long for your response. The seconds that have passed tormented him enough. He sweeps a loose tendril behind your ear and softly trails his palm down your cheek, fingertips teasing your jawline while he waits for your reply.

"I would love nothing more than to be terrified with you." you tease.

Joel smirks and tilts your face toward him with a finger under your chin. He presses his plush lips over yours. Teasing your seam with his tongue, pleading for entry. Your lips slot open, welcoming him into your mouth. Tangled tongues, heated breath, an all-consuming passionate kiss.

When he pulls away, the both of you desperately try to catch your breath. You feel his hardness against your thigh. Your soft hand wraps around his thickness, offering slow strokes and teases over the slit swirling the precum around the head with your thumb. Joel lets out a breathy moan and thrusts into your palm. You don't want to leave him without getting a taste of his cock, so you begin your descent down his firm chest leaving kisses in your wake. "Baby, you don't have to…"

Your eyes meet his as your lips approach his cock. "I know. But I want to."

You wink as you take him in your mouth. His fingers weave through the hair at the back of your skull. Gently moving you further down his shaft, your nose brushing against the tuft of hair above his base. With the tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat, you delicately caress his balls in your palm.

"Fuck, baby," Joel grunts. "Yes, take it all. Your perfect lips wrapped around my cock. A goddamn dream."

At his praise and encouragement, you bob up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around the tip when you release him with a pop to catch your breath, only to return to a steady pace. His hands grip the root of your hair, and you feel his balls tighten in your hands. He's close. "Just like that…that's it. hnnnghhh, I'm going to come."

He tries to pull you off of him, but you take him even deeper with a strong grip on the back of his thighs. You want him to come in your mouth. Feel his warm seed spurt across your tongue. Lap up every drop, savor his taste, and swallow it down. You moan along his length, which reverberates up Joel's spine. His orgasm takes hold, and with a deep, guttural groan, his arousal pours into your mouth.

"Fuckin' hell, darlin'." You smile up at him, satisfied. He watches you as you wipe the corners of your mouth and suck the cum off the tip of your thumb with a moan. "You're amazing at that."

"Yeah?"

He pulls you up by your forearms until your face is level with his. His lips brush along the tip of your nose, to your cheeks, and then to your lips. Hovering over them with hot breath, "Yeah," he nods and seals your lips with his, tasting himself on your tongue.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk, "So…how about a second date?"

You laugh into his shoulder. Still unbelieving that all of this happened. "Absolutely. Just don't expect me to put out."

He responds with a booming laugh. You could get used to this sound. "I would never," as he squeezes you into him and kisses your forehead.

After you both are dressed, you settle in together on the bench to spend the last hours of the trip as close to each other as possible. Your back against the wall and legs strewn over his thighs. His thumbs circle your calves in a soothing motion as you read your book in contented silence. You didn't get to read as much as you wanted, but you're not complaining.

The train’s PA system crackles, “Last stop, Chicago.”

You look at Joel apprehensively, the realization that this time is quickly coming to an end. He squeezes your hand reassuringly as you both move to stand. Joel pulls your bag out of the bin and insists on carrying it off the train for you. You both walk through the narrow hall, you in front, because “ladies first.” When you glance over your shoulder, you catch Joel staring at your ass. You tease with a coy smile and a wink, “Eyes up here, Joel.”

You watch as a smirk grows into a sly grin across his face, the dimple on his right cheek making an appearance along with a glint in his eyes. Fuck, you’re in trouble.

As you exit the train, the conductor gives you both a knowing look with the tip of his hat. Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Joel wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, and plants a kiss on your temple.

Joel freely gives this PDA while completely unaware that his daughter is watching it all transpire from afar. She arrived at the station early because she was so excited to see her dad, not expecting that she'd witness his uninhibited affection so publicly.

“Thanks for the ride, Joel.” He erupts in laughter.

“Anytime, darlin’. Any time.” He embraces you in his strong arms and leaves you with a chaste, parting kiss. “I'll see you soon.”

“You better!” You turn and walk away, Joel watching intently at the sway of your hips, once again admiring the curve of your ass.

Joel runs his hand over his face in disbelief. The last twenty-eight hours were something. He shakes it off to look for Sarah in the crowd. When he finds her, she's barreling toward him to meet him halfway and wraps him in a huge hug. The impact almost knocks him off balance. With a chortle, "Hey, baby girl! I missed you!"

“I missed you, too!" With one eyebrow quirked, "So, dad…how was the trip?” Joel watches as Sarah's eyes shift across the platform in your direction. Your back towards them.

Joel smiles sheepishly, “It was good,” suddenly interested in watching a small bug crawl across the station platform to avoid Sarah's interrogating gaze. " It was really good."

Not one to let him off easy, she senses something different about her father. He has a glow in his eyes; he looks happy. Sarah knows it’s more than just seeing her. “Aw, come on, dad. Who was that woman I saw you with?”

Busted. “Oh,” he feels the flush creeping up his neck. “Funny story…” He drapes his arm over Sarah's shoulder, "I'll tell you in the car."

Joel pulls his phone from his pocket and climbs into Sarah’s car.

[Joel] I can’t wait to see you again

[you] Same. I hope you have a great trip 😘

[Joel] You too, darlin'

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

npt for folks who engaged in my WIP fic covers post (let me know if you’d like to be removed): @ak-vintage @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @nerdieforpedro @everybodylovedcontractors @inept-the-magnificent

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #joel miller x reader

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misstokyo7love · 3 months ago

Note

I always love me some Dieter

Blurb ideas for joel/dieter + reader— sharing a joint/go out dancing and fucking in the bathroom/going front row in the ga pit to a concert/going on a walk at night to enjoy the stars/staying in a forested cabin with massive windows- fucking at night while it rains HARD (maybe eventually going outside to continue in the rain)/getting finger fucked discretely in public bc joel/dieter just can’t wait

(Feel free to skip/squick out on all these!!)

Thank you for your request! I kind of ran with the blunt sharing and rain idea .... this is what it turned into. I hope you like it 🫶🏻😚

Smoke and Storms

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x reader

Words: >1k

Vibes: sexual tension & smut

Warnings: PinV, smoking, teeny bit of choking/spitting/degradation

———

The sound of the engine purring kept you company as you cruised down the empty streets, the night air cool against your skin. Dieter Bravo sat beside you, his long fingers drumming rhythmically against his thigh, with the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

You didn’t speak much at first. Neither of you needed to. The hum of the car, the occasional flicker of the streetlights as you passed them, there was something almost hypnotic about the whole atmosphere. Beyond that was a low rumble of thunder as storm clouds rolled in, further darkening the sky.

"Where to?" you asked.

"I dunno," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Somewhere quiet." His eyes met yours, flicking to your lips for a split second before he looked back out the window.

"Quiet, huh?" you murmured, your heart suddenly picking up speed. When he’d texted just past midnight for a late-night drive and smoke session, you hadn’t been prepared for the tension in the air to feel so thick. The two of you had been dancing around each other since you met, and tonight, it seems he’s finally making his move.

A few minutes later, he pulled into an abandoned parking lot, the kind of place that smelled faintly of gasoline and old asphalt, completely deserted except for the occasional stray cat or reckless juveniles looking for a place to loiter.

Dieter didn’t hesitate as he parked, rolling down the windows for fresh air then reaching into the glove compartment to pull out a joint and a lighter.

You settled into your seat and watched as he lit the blunt, taking a lazy inhale between his lips then exhaling before passing it to you. You mirrored him, inhaling deeply, eager for the warm calm to wash over you and settle your nerves. Tipping your head back you blew the smoke out between your lips and basked in the warmth blooming under your skin.

Rain began falling lightly at first, misting the windshield, but now it was pouring, the sound of droplets hitting the roof of the car loud enough to drown out any other noise. The world felt closed in, just you and him, the storm raging around you, the occasional flash of distant lightning illuminating his face in sharp, fleeting detail.

"Fuck, it’s coming down hard," you said, after another drag.

Dieter rolled up the windows to shield the interior from the onslaught of rain. His gaze focused on the way the rain was streaking down the windshield. The glow from the dashboard lights softened the sharp angles of his face, giving him a kind of ethereal look—one that made him seem distractingly gorgeous and impossibly close. His eyes flicked to you, dark with a kind of quiet intensity, like he could read your thoughts.

"Yeah," he said, his voice husky, as he took the joint and inhaled deeply, his lips curling around it with a sort of careless elegance. “The rain’s... nice.”

You nodded, not sure whether he meant the rain or something else entirely. The tension in the air was thickening with each passing second, the closeness of the car, the intimacy of the night, the way his body shifted ever so slightly toward yours. You could almost feel the heat radiating off him, even through the humid and smoke filled air.

For a moment, it felt like time slowed. The storm raged on around you, but in that small space between you, it was quiet, expectant, like the calm before something inevitable. Your heart began pounding in your ears as he leaned toward you, closing the distance.

“You ever think about… what it would be like?” he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper, the words hanging in the wet air between you.

You didn’t need him to finish. You knew exactly what he meant. The sexual tension, thick as the storm clouds above, had been there from the very beginning.

“I think about it all the time,” you whispered back, your breath catching as you looked up at him.

Dieter’s eyes darkened, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to speak, but he didn’t. Instead he stamped out the butt of the blunt on the tiny ash tray in his cup holder. Then, he finally came for you.

He leaned across the center console and reached for you, his hand cupping the back of your head and tangling in your hair as the other found your waist. His lips hovered near yours, his breath mingling with yours, before he whispered, “I’ve wanted to taste these pretty little lips for so fuckin’ long,” he growls.

And then, just as his mouth crashed into yours, the rain hit harder, pelting down in sheets, lightning flashed and thunder rumble but the two of you barely noticed.

His hands roamed to your back, pulling you even closer, and you whimpered into his open mouth, making space for his tongue to slip in and tangle with yours.

The rain kept coming down in torrents, so loud now that it felt like you were trapped in your own little world, everything else washed away. His hands slid to your waist, then lower, kneading against your flesh as he slipped his hands beneath your shirt.

Everything about him, his, breath, his scent—smoke and something deeper—surrounding you as you lost yourself in the kiss, in the moment, in the storm, and in him.

Before long the two of you scramble into the back seat, desperate to finally give in to your body’s desires.

Your clothes fly off quickly, his hand expertly unhooking your bra and tossing it away as you fumble to untie his sweatpants, eager to free the huge bulge you can see from its confines.

“Fuckin hell” he swears, “knew those tits would be perfect for me.” Beneath his hungry gaze and exposed to the night, your nipples peak with anticipation.

His mouth finds them, sucking one into his warmth between his lips and swirls around it with his tongue as he tweaks the other one gently between his fingers.

A gasp of pleasure escapes your mouth.

As he kisses up and down your body you admire and explore his naked body as well. You reach for his already dripping cock, wrapping your hands around it and pumping it eagerly.

Both of you high on lust make quick time of lying back against the seats, with him on top of you. Dieter slides his cock between your folds, rocking back and forth, slipping his length across you, bumping into your bundle of nerves at the top and covering himself in your slick.

“Now” you beg, “please.”

“Please what” he tuts, slapping the head of his cock against your entrance, sending a jolt through your body.

“Fuck” you groan, and rake your nails down his back, sending shivers down his spine. “fill me up already goddmanit.”

Dieter growls, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He plunges into your wet heat, all the way to the hilt in the first go.

He sets a steady, brutal pace, shaking the car back and forth as he pounds into you. Your bodies slicken with sweat and the heat radiating off of them and the warmth of your breaths fog the windows of the car.

“Open up” he commands with a hand around your throat, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

Grateful for the cover of night and curtain of rain shielding the world of your depravity, you open your mouth, and he spits onto your tongue.

You swallow it gladly.

“Atta girl”, he praises.

Lost in the haze of your high and between each other’s bodies you aren’t sure how long it’s been before pleasure builds to a crescendo. Your legs begin to shake and muscles pull taught as Dieter slips a thumb between you, rubbing at your clit as he thrusts.

“Let me have it baby” he grunts, “come on, cum all over my cock.”

Ecstasy explodes, your body convulses around his as you cum, pulling him into his own orgasm. He pulls out quickly, his chest heaving with staggered breath as he pumps his spend onto your stomach.

After you both come down from the moment and catch your breath, you settle beside each other, sprawled out in the backseat. Through the windows you see the rain begin to thin, now sprinkling lightly against the car and pavement outside before quitting completely. Dieter cracks the windows, allowing a cool breeze to flutter through, cooling your sweat soaked skin and airing out the car.

You snuggle into the crook of his arm, content with the world, and the two of you ride out your high together, watching as the skies clear and stars twinkle in the night sky.

#dieter x reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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misstokyo7love · 3 months ago

Text

Happy Halloween with Frankie Morales

The Summoning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: Single parenthood. mentions of sexual awakenings, trick or treating, jealousy, possessiveness, disgusting behavior, horrible exes, confessions, making out, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, praise, soft dom Frankie, cream pie.

Comments: After both of your ex's left, you and Frankie become back up for each other as you navigate single parenthood. Trick or treating together with your boys leads to horrific things - the return of the monster exes. You only have each other to help you survive.

A/N: Reader's costume is Leia Organa's white dress, but no mention of race or ethnicity is mentioned.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Alex, hurry up!” You call out to your son. “We need to get started trick or treating before it gets too dark!” You know that normally it’s the kids hassling the parents to go out and gather up pillowcases full of candy, but you are excited for this year. You don’t have to pull a wagon, or push a stroller, your son is old enough to want to go up to the doors alone to pick out his little treat and you had thought that your costume of Han Solo for him and Leia for you was particularly inspired. Glancing out the window, you see your neighbor, Frankie, setting out his bowl of candy on the porch. “Shit! The candy!” You hiss, having forgotten about your own bowl for the trick or treaters to grab while you are gone.

Frankie makes sure his porch light is on as he sets the plastic pumpkin full of candy on the doorstep with a sign that says ‘take one only’. He doesn't want to be a Karen, but the bars are full sized. He wanted to be a cool dad for his son by getting the big bars. His son who is practically vibrating with excitement to get out of the house. Dressed as Grogu, the five year old is excited to trick or treat. "Hurry up, Papa!" He demands by the garage door and Frankie chuckles, reaching for his helmet after he shuts the front door. "You got your bucket, little man?" He asks his son, "yeah!" He cheers and Frankie places the helmet on his head before he ushers his son onto the driveway so he can shut the garage door. He turns towards your house, his next door neighbor that has him jerking off every damn day. You moved in around the same time he did. Your boyfriend left you around the same time his wife asked for a divorce and you have helped each other out. Babysitting and school drop offs. You've been his angel, his unbelievably beautiful angel that he has sex dreams about. Tonight, you are his wet dream come true. "Fuck." He hisses, glad for the helmet on his head as you walk down the sidewalk to his driveway, dressed as Leia Organa. Most men would be turned on by the outfit Leia wore when she was captured by Jabba the Hutt but Frankie...his fantasy was the white dress with the blaster in her hand. Capable. Feisty. Sexy. And here you are, dressed in that outfit.

“Hi!” The boys rush towards each other, throwing their arms around each other like it has been five years instead of about an hour since they had seen each other. You normally pick the kids up from school, getting Frankie’s son as well since he got off work later than you did. You bite your lip and grin at the two before trying to hide how sexy you think Frankie looks in the Mando uniform. You waggle your brows as he struts up to you confidently, that blank visor almost as sexy as you had imagined it when you watched The Mandalorian. “Well, Mando.” You greet him with a grin. “They say that armor makes the man.” You whistle playfully. “I don’t know if I need to be walking around you. You’ll be beating the women off with a stick.” Frankie is your perfect version of a man. Strong, kind, a good father. He’s the type that will mow the grass and cut your yard too and yet he apologizes when he needs to ask if you can watch his son while he takes another flight. His sexiness is only increased by a thousand percent knowing he’s a pilot. It’s hard to imagine him dating one day and you hate that it won’t be you.

He chuckles, wiping his gloved hands on his pants, and shakes his head. He is glad he's used to wearing something on his face so he doesn't fog it up. "Yeah, while you are dressed as every guy's fantasy since 1977. You look amazing." He says and tilts his helmet, "this costume...it looks okay?" He asks while the boys tell each other how cool the other looks.

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, glancing up and down the costume. He got a really good one, it definitely wasn’t one of those cheap costumes he bought at Spirit. It was more of a cosplay costume and it makes you think of riding him while he’s wearing it. “It looks great.” You promise. “And Grogu is adorable.” You shift your attention back to the boys so you don’t embarrass yourself by drooling. “Are you guys going now? Do you want to trick or treat together?”

"Together!" Alejandro says and Frankie chuckles, reaching out to tug on the costume ears. "You good going together?" Frankie asks, knowing he'd be grateful to have company while Ale gets his candy. He will need a distraction from watching you walk in that damn costume but the kids will keep you occupied.

“Of course.” You scoff playfully and bat your lashes at him. “Help me, Mando.” You plead in the same tone Carrie Fisher had used as Leia. “You’re my only hope.” You know the night will be better in the company of your handsome neighbor and once you get your son to sleep, you will touch yourself thinking about the way he walks in that suit, how it seems to be natural on him.

Frankie bites his lip to smother the hiss that threatens to escape. His cock twitches under the suit and he inhales deeply to calm down. This is going to be a long night and he knows he will be jerking off in the shower after Ale is asleep. "This is the way." He deepens his voice and the boys cheer, gripping their bags as you set down the street to the first house.

You turn to check out the Halloween decorations in the yards, not wanting to have Frankie see how badly that change of tone affected you. You haven’t noticed how much his voice sounds like Mando’s. That’s just more fuel for the lust that is already out of control. “Okay, here’s the first house.” You call out cheerful, watching as the boys race up the walkway. “Remember your manners!”

The boys rush up to the door, ringing the doorbell, and Frankie chuckles when they shout "trick or treat!" at old man Jenkins. "How pissed off do you think he's gonna be by the end of the night?" He asks you as he turns his head, wishing he could see better in the damn helmet.

“He turns his light off in about thirty minutes.” You snort, glancing over at the helmet and it’s honestly disappointing not to look into those wonderful brown eyes he has. As soon as they get their candy, they are thundering back down the steps of the front porch and racing back over to the two of you. You lift a hand and wave at the old man. “Happy Halloween!” You call out. “And May the Force be with you!”

The old man waves back, “have fun kids.” He mutters as he closes his door, “he better make a move if she’s wearing that outfit. Every man’s fantasy.” The boys are already dragging you to the next house and you giggle, “we are gonna have to ration the candy.” Frankie nods, “they will be bouncing off the walls till Christmas.” The boys rush off down the walk of the next house and Frankie adjusts the belt of his costume, “so, uh, how was work today?”

“Work was long.” You admit with a shrug. “I would have rather been home with the boys, doing Halloween things.” Since your ex left, it seems like you have less time to really spend with your son on the fun projects but you haven’t been getting any money from him and child support enforcement is slow. “I wanted to make spooky pizzas for dinner but we didn’t get time.” You glance over at him. “Any flights today?”

Frankie sighs under his helmet, knowing that you’ve been struggling since your ex left. He wants to help out as much as possible and you are too proud to take money so he helps by looking after your son when he can. Ale loves it and he is happy to help. “Yeah. A few. One couple - either they are goths or really like Halloween - came dressed in all black and the guy proposed. It was romantic in its own way.” He chuckles, “they were happy and it kinda made me miss having a partner.” He confesses, “not that I miss Maria. She can go, well, you know, but I miss having someone there for the small things.”

“Yeah.” You snort. “I don’t miss He Who Shall Not Be Named, but I miss not being a single parent. I never thought he would quit being a father too.”

“He’s a - a barstool.” Frankie edits his curse when the kids rush back towards you both. “Yeah. A real barstool.” You scoff and you continue down the sidewalk to the next house. “Momma, look! I got Kit Kat!” Your son cheers as he holds up his treat and you smile, “that’s awesome, baby.” Frankie watches you with a smile concealed by the helmet. You’re such a good mother and you work hard for what you have. “I haven’t heard from Maria in so long. She just left town and - well, both of us deserved better.”

“I could never imagine just leaving Alejandro.” You murmur. You wouldn’t imagine leaving Frankie either, but that’s different. He is innocent and her child. You look at your son and could never leave him, no matter what. “Next house?” You ask the boys, who cheer happily, eager to get more candy.

Frankie walks alongside you as the boys chatter about their candy and he wishes again that this was his family. That he was with you and the boys were brothers. It’s impossible to make it a reality. He doesn’t want to ruin this great friendship he has with you. You’ve shared many nights together while the boys played. Watching movies as a group, having dinner, going bowling. It’s easy to imagine this being real. It’s too easy to love you and that terrifies him. He doesn’t want to get hurt again.

You enjoy listening to Frankie as he talks about his work and life. It’s easy and comfortable with him, almost scary how seamlessly he fits into your day to day life. Honestly, you don’t know how you would have survived your ex leaving you without Frankie’s help and his shoulder to cry on. You didn’t want the asshole back, he was right, you deserved better. But your son deserved his father and you can only thank Frankie for being a positive male influence for him now.

Frankie chuckles when the boys come rushing down the path towards you, buckets nearly overflowing. “I think we got enough candy.” He smirks just as Tony and his daughter appear. He’s dressed as Woody from Toy Story while his little girl, Sally, is dressed like Barbie. He’s a single parent but he has shared custody with his ex wife. He gets Sally on weekends. “Hey neighbors. You all look amazing. I freaking love Star Wars.” Tony grins and the kids start to compare candy while Tony drags his eyes along your form, “Leia was like my sexual awakening as a teenager.” He confesses with a chuckle, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You chuckle and shrug. “Wasn’t she everyone’s?” You ask, although you had definitely had a thing for Harrison Ford, you just wanted to be Leia. You look at Laurie and grin. “She’s a cute Barbie.” You compliment, although you don’t comment on his costume. “You had much luck tonight?”

Tony nods, “she’s gonna be bouncing off the walls for the entire weekend but I guess I can give her some candy and I’ll get to watch the game tomorrow. You watch football, Morales?” Tony asks Frankie, who shakes his helmet, “not really my thing.” He confesses, and Tony snorts, “probably more a Call of Duty kind of guy.” Frankie shakes his head, “I don’t really like to play games. Especially ones that remind me of combat.” He says and Tony doesn’t recognize the tone of his voice as his attention turns back to you, “listen, I, uh, I don’t have Sally on Friday. She’s having dinner with the ex bitch’s new boyfriend and he only has that night off. He’s a doctor.” He shakes his hands sarcastically, “and I wondered if you wanted to get dinner. Maybe Morales can watch your kid.”

You have to give him points for having the audacity to ask you out and proposition Frankie to watch your kid all in the same sentence, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. And the way Tony talks about his ex is disgusting, especially within earshot of Sally. You might have talked about your ex with Frankie, but you and Tony don’t have that kind of friendship. “Sorry.” You wince and try to look like you are sorry. “I’ve already made plans for the weekend.”

Frankie clenches his jaw under his helmet, wanting to grab Tony and tell him to fuck off but he isn’t that kind of guy. Instead, he reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist, dragging you against him. “Yeah. She has plans.” He says coolly to the other man whose eyes widen in understanding. “Good for you, man. Finally made a move.” He compliments, revealing how flippant he is, and Sally rushes over, “daddy! All the good candy is gonna go!” She whines and Tony sighs, “okay, honey. Come on. See you round, lovebirds.” He chuckles and walks off with his daughter. Frankie drops his hand from your waist, clearing his throat. “Sorry. I just - I figured you weren’t interested in him.”

“Don’t be.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “I’d rather he believe I’m unavailable - forever.” You huff, wishing that you were off the market for that reason, but you don’t want to make Frankie think the only reason you’ve been helping him is so that you could get close to him. He has complained about some obvious moms at some do the school functions before. “Thank you, Francisco.”

Hearing you say his full name has his cock twitching but he pushes that aside, rubbing his gloved hands on his pants. “You ready to get the kids back? I have some snacks ready and we can watch a movie before they go to bed?” He suggests, having already agreed to watch the boys tonight so you can have some alone time.

“That would be good.” You agree, smiling at him through his helmet. “Something scary. I miss watching horror movies.” You admit. “I don’t like watching them all the time when I’m sleeping alone, but I’m going to do it tonight.” You laugh. “It’s Halloween after all.”

Frankie chuckles, “you’ll be fine. You pick the movie. I’ll handle our monsters.” He jokes as he calls out for the boys. “Time to head home. I’ll eat the unwanted candy.” He announces and Alejandro pouts, “papa. I want it all.” Frankie looks in his bag, “even the Almond Joy?” He raises his eyebrows even though no one can see. “Yeah.” Ale pouts and Frankie chuckles, “who the hell gives out Almond Joy on Halloween?” He scoffs as you make your way back to his house.

You giggle quietly. “I like Almond Joy.” You admit, grinning when he gives you a look of horror. “Not an almond fan or coconut fan?” You ask, remembering how much he had raved over your Italian crème cake you had made for spring. It definitely had coconut in it. You wonder if he had just been polite about it.

"I like the flavors but not almond joy. It's like the flax seed of candy. Doesn't taste naughty enough." He smirks but you can't see it. He reaches for his helmet, taking it off when you walk up his driveway and he punches the code in the pad to open the garage door.

You hum as the boys both race towards the interior garage door to go into the house. Gasping when the door opens before they get to it, and your entire body jolts in shock when you see Frankie’s ex standing in the doorway, smiling widely at Alejandro. “Baby boy!” She cries, crouching down and opening her arms wide for a hug.

Frankie freezes, almost dropping the helmet in his hand as he stares at Maria kneeling in the doorway, hugging the son she left behind. He swallows harshly, glancing at you, and he straightens his back. "Maria. What - what are you doing here?" He asks and she kisses Alejandro's hair while your son comes to your side. "I'm here to see my baby boy." She coos as she cuddles her son. "I, uh, I didn't know - you didn't call. You've been gone for eighteen months." He says with a bite to his tone.

“Well I’m back now.” She replies breezily, as if she had just been late getting home from the store. Your stomach twists, knowing how broken up Frankie had been when she left and now she’s back. You call your son over to your side. “Come on, buddy.” You murmur quietly, knowing the plans have changed. “We need to get home.”

Frankie turns to look at you, "can you take Ale? I need to talk to her." He asks and you nod, "of course." Alejandro steps back from his mom. She left him and he asked where she was every damn day for a month so now, Frankie is pissed at her. "Wait. I want to see my son." Maria pouts and Frankie shakes his head, "we need to talk." He tells Alejandro to go eat some candy at your house and he is eager to go, rushing off with you and your son to inspect their loot. Frankie closes the garage door and ushers a pouting Maria into the house. "What are you doing here?" He asks, setting the helmet down on the counter.

“I live here.” Maria tells Frankie, who scoffs and shakes his head. “You haven’t lived here for eighteen fucking months.” He reminds her. Sighing, she sends him a puppy dog look that used to melt any resistance he had towards her. “I missed you,” she pouts softly, stepping closer and running her hand down the armor plate on his chest. “This is shiny.” She coos, hoping to seduce him and put him in a better mood. Frankie is always pliable after cumming.

Frankie takes her hand and pushes it away, she can’t melt him with that face any more. “You left. Without a word. Ale asked about you for a fucking month and I didn’t even have an answer for him. I heard you were seen with his pediatrician. I took him for his check up and the man had the fucking audacity to smirk when he fake asked me where you were. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. It’s over, Maria. I don’t wanna hear your excuses. I don’t want to listen to you beg and plead to come back. We are doing fine without you. I packed up your things. They are in the guest room. Get your shit and get out of my house. I’ll see you in court for custody.” He says with as much calm as he can muster but his eyes are piercing.

Maria frowns and bites her lip. “But that was a mistake, baby.” She whines softly. “I- I was being foolish. I didn’t realize what I had.” The plain truth was that he had dumped her. Told her that he was bored and it was time to move on. The trade up that she had been expecting lasted a short time and then she had been sent packing. “I realize that now and we can be a family again.”

Frankie scoffs, “you cheated on me, left me and our son without even a note, and you expect me to take you back? I’ve fought in the most dangerous places on the planet and I’d sooner be dropped back there than get back together with you. We are done. Go back to wherever you crawled out from. My lawyer will be serving divorce papers and I want majority if not full custody of our son.” He says with a clenched jaw, ready for her to be out of his house. All that time he thought he had driven her away but she is the reason she left, not him. She was greedy and wanted more. “Leave now before I call the police.”

This time, Maria’s face twists into an angry scowl. “You can’t do this, Francisco.” She sneers. “This is my house too. And there’s no way a court would give you custody with your record.” She taunts, smirking viciously. “Drug charges aren’t good for custody battles.”

“You left. You left without a word and I’m clean. I go to meetings. I go to therapy. Damn sure had to do more of it after you left. I’ve been here for our son. I provide for our son. I own this house. You moved in with me, remember? Leave now. You can’t intimidate me.” He promises, crossing his arms.

Gritting her teeth, Maria fumes that he’s not falling at her feet, happy that she’s giving him another chance. “This isn’t the end of this, Francisco.” She hisses, pushing past him to the door. “You’re gonna regret this.”

Frankie watches her go, exhaling in relief when the door shuts. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want his wife back but he hates that she hurt him so much. He’s been in battles, taken bullets, taken lives, and nothing affected him more than being left by his wife. He knows he fucked up when he got into coke. A mistake he made when Alejandro got really sick. He was in hospital with an infection and they weren’t sure if he was gonna make it. Frankie went off the deep end but he crawled his way back to be the husband and father he should’ve been. Maria repaid him by leaving and cheating on him. He gathers his thoughts and decides to make his way over to your place. He needs a drink and someone to talk to.

You’ve been trying not to think about what is happening next door since you shuffled the kids into your house. You’ve had them dump their buckets and helped them go through the candy, throwing out any that had been opened and explaining why it was necessary. Hating how your stomach is churning and you want to look over there, but you don’t. Finally allowing them to pick out three pieces of candy to eat before bed, you laugh when both boys choose the full sized candy bars they had gotten from Frankie’s candy bowl. “Alright, but you will only have that one.” You warn.

Frankie comes over, knocking on your door despite him having the code. He doesn’t want to intrude after he has spent ten minutes calming down. You answer the door and he inhales deeply, his dark eyes soft as he looks at you with worry on your face. “She’s gone.” He murmurs, “I sent her away.”

“That was a surprise.” It’s an understatement but you don’t want to insult her if he’s going to get back together with her. “Alejandro keeps asking about her.” You glance back at the boys as they sit at the table. “She coming back tomorrow?”

Frankie shakes his head, "I told her to get her shit from the garage and leave. I am not getting back together with her. She cheated on me in my darkest moment. She was supposed to stand by my side. I cannot - we are done. I don't love her and I will fight to keep Ale from her. You can't pick and choose when you can be a parent." He curls his upper lip in disgust and looks over at the boys, "am I doing the right thing? Sending her away from him?"

“You are.” You assure him, feeling guilty for it, but you are relieved. You don’t want him to get back together with a woman who is so selfish to leave her son. “Think about how upset Ale will be when she disappears again.”

Frankie nods, "I - I can't let her hurt him again. When she left the first time, he was so upset." He murmurs as the boys look over at him and Alejandro rushes over to him. "Papa! Where's mama?" He asks and Frankie swallows, kneeling down to talk to his son. "Mama had to leave. She - she lives in another house. She will talk to you soon." He vaguely promises and sighs when Ale pouts in disappointment but it's better this way. "She left again?" He asks and Frankie nods, "yeah. It's okay though. Show me what candy you got." He distracts the little boy who grins and grabs his hand to drag him over to the table to show him his loot.

You watch the two of them, your heart aching for the little boy, although you know he will be better for this. His mother drifting in and out of his life would do him no good. “They really raked in the candy.” You walk over and ruffle your son’s hair affectionately.

Frankie chuckles, “we will have to ration them. Are you okay having them tonight? We can put them to bed and watch that scary movie but I doubt anything is gonna be as scary as Maria showing up.” He chuckles sarcastically as he watches the boys.

“No, you deserve to get drunk.” You snort, it’s a change from him having the kids, but that’s okay. “Maybe go out and have some fun.”

He shakes his head, “nah. I’d rather be here watching a movie with you unless you wanna be alone?” He asks, tilting his head towards you in case you want to be on your own.

“No.” You shake your head. “I’d rather watch a movie with you than be alone.” You bite your lip, watching him sigh softly and look back towards Alejandro again. “It will be okay.” You promise, putting your hand on his costumed arm.

He sighs and glances down at his outfit, “good thing there’s sweats under the armor.” he chuckles and ruffles his son’s hair, “come on mijo. Time for bed.” He orders and Alejandro pouts, “but I want to have another piece of candy.” Frankie shakes his head, “you can have some candy tomorrow. Come on, we can put an episode of Mandalorian on for you.”

You also usher your son to bed through the protests, although they are fewer now that he knows Alejandro will be spending the night. You keep a toothbrush for the other boy and soon their teeth are brushed and you’ve promised they can sleep in the core of their costumes, without any of the ties and toys.

The boys snuggle into the sheets as you kneel on the bed to put on an episode of The Mandalorian. “One episode. The TV is on a timer and I have the remote so sleep as soon as it’s over, okay?” You say and they nod, “yes mommy.” Your son says and Frankie comes in to say goodnight to his son after he’s gotten comfortable taking his shoes and costume off.

You kind of hate that he has taken off the costume, it was hot. You step back and wonder if you should change out of the Leia outfit, since he was dressing down. But before you can decide, you hear the doorbell and a chorus of “trick or treat!” Coming from the front porch. “Oh, I’ll get them.” You had forgotten to turn off the light and the candy bowl was empty.

Frankie watches you head to the front door, older kids standing there with buckets and you hold your finger up. “Hold on, kids. I have another bag.” You promise and rush into the kitchen. Frankie makes his way to the front door to see the kids, “you’ve got some cool costumes.” He smiles, looking at the excited teenagers. He remembers those days. So eager to grow up and now, he’d give anything to regain that kind of innocence.

“Thanks.” Happy to just not be hassled for being “too old to trick or treat”, the kids stand patiently while you rush over with a bag of candy and start handing it out. “Happy Halloween!” They thunder back down the stairs and out into the dark night, laughing and chattering happily about their candy haul.

Frankie chuckles, "I miss those days sometimes until I remember how awkward I was and I couldn't even talk to a girl." He admits after you close the door.

“You?” You scoff, sending him a dubious look. “I doubt that. I’ve seen pictures of you from boot camp, you were so cute. There’s no way you didn’t have a girlfriend or several in high school.”

Frankie blushes a little at your compliment, “I was super awkward. I could barely say hi to a woman. It wasn’t until boot camp that I lost my virginity to this girl who worked at the local bar and I was kinda a late bloomer.” He admits and watches you for a moment. “You got any popcorn, sweetheart? I can get the movie set up.”

You know that he’s a little uncomfortable, but you nod, giving him a minute. “Sure. Kettle corn alright?” You know it is, it’s his favorite. He nods and you go into the kitchen to get the popcorn started, putting together a little tray of food to go along with the snack. Knowing Frankie, he hasn’t eaten dinner and he should.

He turns on the TV and finds the app to open for the scary movie and he calls out “what do you wanna watch?” just as the doorbell rings and Frankie frowns, knowing it’s too late for trick or treaters now.

“Who the hell could that be?” You had turned off the light and frown as you come out of the kitchen. Frankie stands up but you wave him off. “I’ll get it.” You promise, opening the door and your eyes widen in shock at the sight of your ex boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Frankie frowns when he hears your gasp and he stands up, “what’s going on? Who is that?” He asks with concern lacing his voice. He walks over to the door and his frown deepens when he sees your ex standing there.

“What are you doing here?” You demand and he holds up his key ring. “Why the fuck doesn’t my key work?” He answers, making you scoff. “I changed the locks when you decided you were leaving.” You tell him. “You don’t get to just walk back into my house whenever you want.”

Frankie clenches his jaw, pissed that your asshole ex is back on the scene. Tonight really is a demonic event. He steps back, heart aching because he knows you might want to get back together with him. You’d mentioned how lonely you are and how you miss having a partner.

His eyes shift to Frankie behind you. Narrowing slightly in recognition. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Your ex puffs up, like he’s trying to be intimidating, but he just manages to look like a fool. “Frankie is here because I want him to be.” You snap. “Unlike you. So I’ll ask again, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Frankie doesn’t like his tone and he hovers. “I am here to see my son. I want to come home.” Your ex demands, “this is my house. I want to come back.” He says with his jaw clenched, “and you should let me come home now. It’s been long enough.”

“Not a fucking chance.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “It’s too late to wake him up and you haven’t seen him in a year and a half. A YEAR AND A HALF!” You hiss angrily. “You aren’t coming back home. Your home is with whatever slut you were sleeping with.”

Frankie puffs his chest, angry for you, and he shakes his head at the audacity. “You can’t keep him from me.” Your ex growls and you shake your head, “you left. You left him. And me. For some slut that works at the shop.” Your ex scoffs, “she was good for sucking cock, that’s all.”

“And yet you threw away our relationship and didn’t see your son this entire time.” He must have gotten dumped. “He’s asleep and I’m watching a movie, so you need to leave.”

Your ex exhales through his nose, “this ain’t over. I’ll be back. He’s my son. You are mine. I won’t just give that up.” He growls and spins on his heel, stalking down the path to his truck.

“When you come back, why don’t you bring me a check for the last year and a half of child support!” You call after him, slamming the door and throwing the lock for good measure, unable to believe the audacity of that asshole. “Fucking prick!” You hiss to yourself.

Frankie clenches his jaw and flexes his fingers, tempted to head outside to find that prick. “I’m so sorry. I guess tonight if truly the fucking night of demonic appearances.” He scoffs and reaches for your hand, “do you wanna talk about?”

“We need a fucking drink.” You decide, turning back towards the kitchen to change the hot chocolate you were going to make for something stronger. “You think they planned this shit together?” You ask him, yanking a bottle of wine out of the fridge.

Frankie sighs, following you, “I don’t know. I think - I think they both had a feeling that we were finally happy without them and they decided to show up and fuck with us.” He snorts, walking over to you as you pour out the wine. “You sure you’re okay? I know he hurt you.”

“I’m mad for Alex.” It had always amused you that the boys had such similar names, especially since you and Frankie were the ones to pick them out. They always claimed there were twins and a few times, you wished that was true. So you could be with Frankie. “He just decides when he gets to be a father? He was a shit boyfriend, but I thought he loved his son.”

Frankie can’t help it. He reaches for you to pull you into his arms. “Come here, sweetheart. He’s an asshole. Don’t let him get under your skin. You have custody of Alex and there’s nothing he can do about it. Except pay his fucking child support.”

You lean into his hug, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing. Breathing in the warm and safe scent of your neighbor. Hating how it instantly relaxes you and turns you on at the same time. “I fucking hate it.” You huff. “You don’t even know how many times I’ve wished you were Alex’s dad.”

Frankie kisses your hair, “me too. I wish - so many times I’ve imagined us as a family. You’re such a good mother. Exactly what Ale deserves and he loves you so much. I- I love you so much.” He reveals against your hair, closing his eyes as he prepares for your rejection.

“Oh Francisco….” You murmur softly, hugging him tighter before you pull away to look him in the eyes. “I love you too.” You confess, smiling at the way his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “I have been crushing on you since you moved in, but I really started falling for you once we were single parents together, helping each other out.”

Your loving gaze makes his heart pound in his chest and he knows this is real. You’ve both turned down your exes tonight and he can’t help himself. He cups your cheek and surges forward to press his lips to yours. Every emotion he’s felt for you comes out in full force as he pours himself into the kiss.

It’s passionate, hot, and even sweet all mingled together. You moan in relief, feeling the emotion course through you as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Waiting for this moment for so long has made you ravenous for him.

He groans into your mouth as you cling to him, making him realize that this is real. He’s kissing you. You love him. His fantasy is coming true and that makes him growl into your mouth, tongue sliding between your lips while his hands slide down to squeeze your ass.

You shiver, always suspecting that Frankie is a very physical man and it’s thrilling to find out how right you are. He might claim to have been shy as a boy, but the man he is now has no problem touching you. Your hands slide down his back and you roll your hips against a hardness that is rapidly growing and making you drip in anticipation.

Frankie groans into your mouth as he walks you backwards towards your sofa. Netflix is still on the TV and he sits down, dragging you into his lap. When you straddle him and press down onto his bulge, he groans your name and grabs your ass again. “Fucking love this costume.” He admits, “was gonna jerk off thinking about you wearing it.”

You giggle, pressing your lips to his jaw and scraping your teeth over his skin. He’s got a lovely little five o’clock shadow of hair and you know it will feel so good against your skin. “Me too.” You hum. “Disappointed you took your costume off. Mando could have fucked Leia.”

“Shit. I could go back to the house but I don’t think I can. I - I want you, baby. If you wanna eat popcorn and watch a movie and make out I’m happy for that but if you want, I wanna spread you out and lick at your pussy like I’ve dreamed of doing so many goddamn times before I make you cum on my cock.”

You groan, nodding breathlessly. “Take me to bed, Francisco.” You order, leaning in and kissing him hard on the mouth before pulling away. “I’ve been tested, had to after finding out he was cheating. I’m clean.”

Frankie groans when you shuffle off his lap. "I'm clean too. Got tested after she left and I haven't -" He cuts himself off as he stands and he watches you, growling as the need overwhelms him again and he bends over, wrapping his arms around your thighs to lift you over his shoulder.

Squealing in surprise turns to laughter, echoing down the hall and you can only hope you don’t wake the boys. “Caveman!” You giggle, smacking his ass as he strides down the hallway to your bedroom. He knows which one is yours, he’s been in it to fix the sink in your bathroom. “Fuck that’s so hot.” You moan, cunt clenching around nothing. “Dragging me off to fuck me.”

Frankie pushes your bedroom door open with his foot and throws you onto your bed after he kicks the door shut. He watches you bounce on your bed and he reaches for your ankle, "so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, sliding his hand along your calf.

There’s an appeal to his roughness. You don’t mind a little bit of manhandling at all, especially when it’s tempered with praise. “Goddamn you are sexy.” You groan, licking your lips as your eyes slide down to where his sweats are tented by his hard cock. “I swear to God I wouldn’t have survived you in a fucking uniform.”

He chuckles, “I still have my uniforms.” He smirks, “maybe we can have another costume night.” He teases and slides his hand higher until he’s pressing his fingers against your covered cunt. “Fuck. Can feel how wet you are.” He murmurs, his eyes focused on where his fingers are until they flick up to look at you. His hand slides up to squeeze your breast through your costume and he groans your name.

“Frankie, fuuuuuuuck.” You whine, pressing your hips down and wishing that there was nothing between the two of you. “I need you baby.” You beg softly. “Been turned on since I saw you in your costume and it’s only gotten worse. My clit is throbbing.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll suck on it.” He smirks as he reaches for the waistband, dragging the leggings you wore underneath the dress down to expose your panties beneath. “Take the top off.” He orders as he tosses the white bottoms over his shoulder.

You moan, sitting up and dragging your costume over your head and unclipping your bra after reaching behind you. “Fuck, I need you baby.”

He nods, “you’ve got me.” He promises as he leans back to admire your body. “Shit. You’re better than I imagined.” He confesses and groans as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He murmurs as he kisses your stomach up to your breast. He slides his tongue along the underside of your tit until he takes your nipple into his mouth.

You moan, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Frankie.” You gasp his name when he toys with your nipple with his teeth. “So good.”

He loves how you writhe under him and he’s barely gotten started. He groans against your skin, cock aching in his sweats but thankfully not as confined as jeans. He squeezes himself while his other hand trails along your thigh until he’s sliding his fingers through your folds.

“More.” You beg, already needing more from him and he’s barely touched you. “You don’t- you can just fuck me.” You bargain. You don’t want him to do it just because he feels like he has to. You’d rather you both enjoy sex, even if you probably won’t cum.

Frankie offers you a scoff and a shake of his head. “You have any idea how many goddamn times I’ve imagined you spread out like this? I’m gonna enjoy it.” He promises as he kisses down your stomach, “I want to taste you. Make you cum on my tongue. And my fingers. And my cock.” He murmurs between kisses until he’s between your thighs. He pushes them further apart to see your cunt properly. “Fuck. So pretty.” He murmurs before he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds.”

The way you keen should be a crime. He pulls it out of you with the flick of his tongue and the skill of his mouth. This is a man who enjoys eating pussy, not just viewing it as a chore. You moan his name, reaching down and twisting your fingers in the bedspread as he takes you apart lick by lick.

He loves how you taste. Tangy and sweet like a candy and he sucks your clit between his lips. His dark eyes watch you as he makes you moan, his hands sliding up so he can palm your tits, squeezing them until he pinches your nipples.

You bite your lip when you look down at him, his dark eyes focused on you like you are the only thing in the world. You love it, moaning his name again, you reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair.

Frankie groans, loving the way you tug on his hair as he laps at your clit. He desperately wants you to fall apart for him. He needs to taste your cum before he slides into you. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs before he sucks on your clit, his hand finding yours to squeeze it.

He is the beautiful one. Gorgeous between your thighs and looking up at you. You moan his name again and roll your hips down to meet his mouth. “Fuck, Frankie!”

He grabs your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders so he feels smothered by you. He wants to drink you down, make you scream his name. He groans into your flesh when you tug on his hair again when he pushes his tongue into your pussy.

You whine, feeling your entire body lurching and bucking in pleasure as he pushes his tongue deep. “Frankie!” You squeal, eyes closed tight and you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

Your squeal makes his cock twitch, pre-cum soaking his sweats as he slides his tongue through your folds, pushing it deep again until he decides to flick the tip of his tongue over your clit. Eyes closed as he enjoys this moment that he’s imagined so many damn times.

He’s relentless, pushing his tongue deeper and curling it up. He wants you to fall apart, that is obvious from the determined set of his jaw. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’ve never - ever had someone be this eager.” You pant, unable to breathe he is flicking his tongue so deep inside you.

He pulls back to a second to look up at you, “then you’ve been sleeping with fucking idiots.” He growls before he dives back in, wanting to watch you fall apart for him before he slides inside you. His hands squeeze your flesh, his tongue pushing deep until his nose presses against your clit.

It’s hard to imagine sleeping with anyone better. Gasping when his prominent nose nudges you. His tongue quickly works you back up towards the edge and with one more flick of his tongue, you are sent spiraling, crying out loudly as you fall apart.

He holds you down as you spasm beneath his tongue. He’s aching, pressing into the mattress as he laps up every drop of your pleasure. He loves it. He loves you. “That’s it, baby.” He says between laps of his tongue until you’re pushing him away.

Your chest is heaving, breath heavy as your thighs shake and your cunt quivers in pleasure. “Oh fuck.” You moan. “Oh fuck, you’re so good. You’re so good, baby.” You praise, reaching down and needing to kiss him.

He shuffles up your body to press his lips to yours, his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweats and he’s so hungry for you. His tongue slides into your mouth, loving how you moan and taste yourself on his tongue while his hand cups your breast.

You want him. Reaching down, you hook your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and try to push them down, eager to touch him, to have him inside you. Gone is any worry about messing this up, you just need him.

When your fingers wrap around his cock, he groans and presses his forehead to your chin, watching your fingers squeeze him and he pants, “hold on, babe. Let me - let me take them off.” He pleads and you release him, letting him shift off the bed to kick off his sweats while he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Fuck, you are so gorgeous.” You moan, pressing your thighs together before spreading them wide in invitation. You want him to hurry up and fuck you. Needing that thick cock inside you. “That cock- fuck Francisco.” You whine. “I need it inside me.”

Frankie groans, wrapping his fingers around his cock as he kneels on the bed and shuffles closer. “You need it? Tell me how much you need it.” He demands, his free hand sliding through your slicked up folds.

“So bad, it hurts.” You promise him. “My pussy hurts, it’s so empty.” You probably aren’t making any sense, but you ache for him. Needing him to fill you up. “Fuck me, baby, I need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles at your whiny tone, loving it after imagining so many times how good you’d feel around him. He shifts closer, his slick fingers squeezing your thigh as he slides the head of his cock through your folds. Your whine is louder until it transforms into a moan as he starts to push into you, slowly stretching you out.

“Ohhhhhh godddddddd.” Your head tilts back and your eyes close as he fills you. Managing to scrub against every nerve inside your sensitive pussy and sink impossible deep. “So good.” You gasp, hands on his shoulders and fingernails digging into his skin slightly.

He shifts closer, resting his weight on his elbows, and he leans in to kiss along your neck. "So goddamn good around me. Always imagined you would be. So fucking perfect." He murmurs between kisses as he shifts his weight so he can caress your thigh.

He’s so fucking big inside you. Your walls are pulsing around him and every time he twitches, it feels like he’s poking against your cervix. “Fuck, move baby.” You beg, wanting him to wreck you. “Show me how you’ve imagined me.”

He nods, biting down on your chin as he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up higher, and he rocks into you. He’s slow and methodical. Loving the way you whimper when he pushes deep. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin as he kisses your jaw.

Your fingers caress his shoulders and you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You breathe out quietly, feeling your heart swell happily. Your legs slide up high on his hips and then hook behind his ass. “So much.”

Frankie loves how you push on his ass to make him sink even deeper inside you. He groans, rocking into you a little faster, and he presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

It’s not as fast or as hard as you have imagined before, but it’s perfect. You feel everything and the emotions have you nearly tearing up as he kisses you like it’s the last thing he will do. Pulling him closer and kissing him back just as eagerly.

He loves how you feel around him, beneath him, and he rocks into you like he has all the time in the world. Slow and deep. "Feel good?" He asks against your jaw, voice raspy from emotion.

“Sooooo good.” He has no idea what he does to you, what he is doing to you. “You’re perfect, Frankie.” You turn your head and kiss up his jaw and then back down again, nipping his skin slightly.

"You're perfect." He murmurs, closing his eyes as you nip at his skin. His pace increases, his hand sliding under you to get you even closer to him.

You moan, feeling so connected to him right now. It’s like the two of you are one whole together. “You -You’re perfect.” You pant, gasping for breath as he steals it from you.

Frankie doesn’t respond, he wants to show you how perfect he thinks you are. You’ve been his rock since his ex left and he knows you’ll be there no matter what happens next. He rocks into you a little faster, adjusting the angle with each thrust as he tries to find the spot that makes you cry out. When he finds it, he groans at the way you clench around him, and he focuses on it. He wants you to fall apart for him.

He has to be the perfect lover. You cling to him, moaning and whining every time he pushes against that perfect spot deep inside you. He seems to love hearing your sounds so you don’t hold back. “Fuck, fuck baby, I love you.”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel it. Squeeze me. Fuck - wanna feel you cum for me.” He demands, focusing on that spot with a determination that matches when he’s flying.

It doesn’t take long to do exactly as he says. The insistent push of his hips and the strategic angle that he’s shredding up into you sends you over the edge with a sharp howl of his name as your vision goes white and stars bursts behind your eyes.

Frankie watches you as you fall apart beneath him and shit, it's gorgeous. Your eyes roll back and your body shakes beneath him as you enjoy the pleasure that rushes through your body. "So fucking beautiful." He murmurs and slows his pace, helping you ride through it while he kisses along your jaw.

You moan his name, almost upset that he’s slowed down. “Baby, I want to feel you cum.” You whimper, turning and pressing your lips to his and enjoying the way he groans into your mouth. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Not yet.” He groans, pulling out of you and you whine. He slaps your thigh, “hands and knees. Wanna make you cum again.” He demands, “wanna feel it one more time before I fill you up.” He squeezes his cock, slick with your juices.

“Oh god.” You huff, rolling over to your stomach and coming up on your hands and knees. You hadn’t expected multiple positions the first time around, but he’s full of surprises. “Fuck me baby.” You beg, looking back over your shoulder at him as you shake your ass enticingly.

He can’t resist smacking your ass with his free hand, squeezing the flesh as he shuffles closer to you. He groans your name as he slides his cock through your dripping folds. “Gonna make you cum again.” He promises as he pushes into you.

You groan in pleasure, your already fluttering cunt greedy for another orgasm. You can’t even remember the last time you’ve cum from anything except your toy and now you are being spoiled. “Gonna get me addicted.” You pant.

He chuckles, caressing your lower back, “that’s the point, babe.” He grabs your hips so he can start pulling out of you until he slams his hips against your ass, loving the way it jiggles and he can’t help pressing his thumb against your puckered hole.

You choke out his name, surprised by the action but you don’t pull away. You can’t, not when it feels so good. He’s downright filthy and you love it

He rocks into you, his other hand sliding down to rub your clit as he bends over you. He wants you to cum again for him and he wants to fill you up.

His chest is pressing into your back, pushing you down and you love how he feels. Surrounding you, overwhelming you. He’s completely in control and his fingers are pushing you towards another orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. Pussy feels so good around me. Knew it would. Jesus, you’re so perfect. Wanted you for so long. Jerked off so many times imagining you.” He murmurs, groaning your name when your walls flutter around him. “That’s it. Cum for me. Wanna feel it again.”

You collapse down onto the bed, pressing your cheek to the cool sheets as he hammers into you. Squealing and moaning every time his hips slap sharply into your ass. He pinched your clit and you lurch forward, crying out in pleasure again.

“Fuck. That’s it. That’s it.” He grunts, rubbing your clit for a few more seconds before he slides his hand from beneath you. He grabs your ass, squeezing the flesh as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna. Gonna cum.” He warns you through gritted teeth as he closes his eyes when he can’t hold on any longer.

You feel his hips stutter, slamming into you one last time and grinding deep, the heat of his cum flooding your pussy walls and filling you up. It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and you moan his name while he rides out his high, clenching down around him again.

Frankie leans over you, pressing his forehead against your back and he presses a soft kiss to your skin as he tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches inside you and he can't believe that just happened.

You melt into the bed, bringing him with you as he collapses on top of you. “Could sleep just like this.” You groan happily, closing your eyes and sighing softly.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder, and he pulls out of you. He groans as he watches his cum well up between your folds. “So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, “everywhere.” He sighs as he flops to lay down beside you.

“You are pretty.” You hum, eyes still closed but there is a smile on your face. “We should have done that months ago. Maybe even a year.” You crack one eye open to look over at him in his gloriously disheveled state. “Fuck, you look even better post sex.”

He looks at you and chuckles, rubbing his chest that’s slick with sweat. “You do too. Yeah, we definitely should’ve done that earlier. But we have tons of time to make up for it.” He smirks, knowing the boys will be having lots of sleepovers now.

“Yeah?” You lean over and press your lips to his shoulder before rolling over to curl into him. “Plan on spending a lot of time in bed, Morales?” You tease.

He wraps his arm around you and he kisses your forehead. “Hell yeah. We got a lot of time to make up for.” He chuckles and enjoys the way you caress his chest. “And I want to go on a proper date. Like get Kelly down the street to babysit and we can dress up to go for dinner.”

“Fancy.” You tease, although it’s a very sweet sentiment. “I would go on a date with you. Of course.” Frankie dressed up would be so sexy and you haven’t been out in so long.

Frankie smiles, “good. I want to spoil you. You deserve so much better than that asshole.” He scoffs, “you deserve the damn world and I’m gonna give it to you.” He promises, turning his head to nudge your nose with his.

“Yeah?” You nudge him back and grin. “Why don’t we start with getting some of that leftover Halloween candy to share and we can go from there.”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie grins, “I’ll get the candy. You want a beer?” He asks and you nod. He shuffles off the bed and grabs his sweats, pulling them on before he disappears to your kitchen to grab some snacks. He pauses by the boys, slowly opening the door to see them both asleep and he shuts it softly. He can’t help but smile, his cheeks aching from how happy he is. He finally feels like things are happening for a reason. He has you, you love him, you have the boys and they are like brothers already. Despite your exes showing up like a goddamn demonic summoning, you and Frankie are together and that is definitely not a trick. It’s the best treat he’s ever gotten.

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